Forget about the accordion of basement cafes in Paris or Austrian firemen's barbecues. True Love has the claustrophobic, wraparound agitation of a dance party in the Midtown Tunnel. The soloist threads his way through dense orchestral traffic, giving off siren howls and gut-thrust chords.
There was, of course, no reason to expect that these works would be conventional concertos in the 18th- and 19th-century sense. Ms. Wolfe, for one, warned listeners in a program note that she was more interested in ensemble dynamics than in the traditional showiness of the concerto form.