Reprinted from yesterday's late editions.

Antal Dorati Tuesday night continued the policy he has followed regularly to his eight years with the National Symphony by adding yet another major work of the late 19th century to its repertoire. This time it was the Third Symphony by Anton Bruckner.

The music has more rhetoric in it than some of the later Bruckner symphonies, and a great, open allegiance to Richard Wagner. That allegiance was later refined until it is hard to discern in the midst of some of the century's loftiest symphonic writing. Tuesday night it was heard in the sound of the full orchestra as well as in the harmonic thought underlying most of the music.

Dorati read the large work with great freedom but never permitted the music to lag from the forward movement that is essential to sustain its long and sometimes repetitious episodes. His phrasing had a wonderful plasticity, touching the lofty mood when appropriate, but just as often emphasizing the earthier dance rhymthms that mark the piece.

The orchestra's response was alert and full of beautiful sound, nowhere more ideally illustrated than in the exquisite viola melody of the slow movement.

The only other work on the program was the concerto Mozart wrote for three pianos, a composition he was impelled to create for three of his pupils, one of whom was the sister of the churchly employer Mozart thoroughly hated.

It is easy, in the often perfunctory manner of the outer movements, to believe Mozart was vastly uninterested in this concerto. But no Mozart piano concerto lacks for certain beauty of thought. Most of this occurs in the slow movement. At no time, however, is there any hint of the richness of invention in melodic and harmonic imagination that makes most Mozart piano concertos affairs of unsurpassed greatness.

Lili Kraus, Ilse von Alpenheim and Dorati were the pianists, often making the most of their opportunities. However, the absence of one of the great solo concertos in the presence of Kraus still seems a pitiful waste.