The Philadelphia Orchestra performs Mahler’s ‘loud’ ‘Symphony No. 6′ at the top of its considerable form

Tragedy isn’t always autobiographical. Proof of that is Mahler’s Symphony No. 6, which temperamentally lives up to its subtitle “Tragic,” but was written during a rather happy period in the composer’s life.

And at the Friday Philadelphia Orchestra performance in Marian Anderson Hall, the symphony’s four boulder-like movements had tragedy coexisting with every other extreme emotion, cheek by jowl, sometimes simultaneously, under music director Yannick Nézet-Séguin.

Walking into the Kimmel Center on a rainy Friday, one had apprehension mixed with anticipation: This is one of Mahler’s loudest symphonies — with the final movement’s floor-shaking sledgehammer blows in the percussion section. And Nézet-Séguin is gaining a reputation in some quarters as the loudest conductor in New York (where he and the orchestra repeat Mahler Tuesday at Carnegie Hall).

What unfolded was a deeply considered reading of this endlessly rich symphony, that happened to be written years before medical tragedies struck the composer and his family.

Not so long ago, one heard performances that apologized for Mahler with airbrushed sonorities. Maybe the Berlin Philharmonic now goes too far the other direction with Mahler that leaves you feeling bludgeoned.

But Nézet-Séguin’s point of reference for much of his music-making appears to be the coloristic nuances of Ravel. Through that lens, Mahler’s dense sonorities opened up to reveal more content in a single movement than in Mahler’s entire Symphony No. 1.

Woodwind sonorities were blended meaningfully. Harps were not demure. Dramatic contrasts were arresting but not merely sensational. A French Impressionist accent also makes sense: The Austrian composer was as cosmopolitan as they come, and his lifetime overlapped with Ravel’s. Certainly, the Philadelphia Orchestra took to this approach and was at the top of its considerable form.

The highly receptive full-house audience showed no signs of feeling shortchanged by the 80-minute run time in this single-piece program.

Besides, this symphony leaves little brain space for anything else if only because there’s so much of it — with meaning that shifts with every hearing. Nézet-Séguin clearly illuminated a series of musical character, nothing so graphic as the nature studies of Symphony No. 3.

The relentless first-movement marches are more psychological than visual. The summery interlude are interior memories. Indistinct Wagnerian monsters lurk in the lower brass writing. Percussion cackles invasively. Splintered Bach chorales are lying about.

Though the triple meter of the second movement somewhat suggests dance, it’s full of even more nightmarish creatures. The sublime “Andante” movement with its pastoral expansiveness was phrased as a thoughtful, unfolding discourse, building into great inner exaltation. Percussion in that movement, seemingly suggesting mountain cowbells, felt more like a flood of chimes under Nézet-Séguin.

And the final movement, where everything seems to be happening all the time, you wonder how can music have so much traffic and still cohere? And not be brutal? It’s possible — with this orchestra and conductor. By the end, you didn’t know where the marches were headed, why themes are reiterated so obsessively, where the grotesque percussion gestures were hiding, or what the horns were barking about.

But if such questions had solid answers, would it be Mahler?

Philadelphia Orchestra plays Mahler’s ‘Symphony No. 6.’ The program will be repeated at 2 p.m. Sunday, April 13 at Marian Anderson Hall in the Kimmel Center. Tickets are $25-166. Information: 215-893-3151or philorch.ensembleartsphilly.org