The late Finnish-born composerKaija Saariaho’swrenching 2005 opera “Adriana Mater” begins with a crashing, world-shattering chord, as if all the potential lives and deaths of its characters had been condensed into a single hypercharged sonority.

When the opera concludes 2½ hours later, in a state of unforeseeable but well-earned grace, the aftershocks of that opening still reverberate like the faint radiation from the Big Bang.

“Adriana Mater,” a wise and richly inventive tale of violence and motherhood, received its local premiere on Thursday, June 8, just days after the composer’sdeath at 70. The San Francisco Symphony performance in Davies Symphony Hall, conducted by her lifelong friendEsa-Pekka Salonenand staged by her frequent collaboratorPeter Sellars, could hardly have been a more fitting tribute to her legacy.

The semi-staged presentation was, of course, dedicated to Saariaho’s memory (as several other local musical presentations have been lately, including productions bySan Francisco OperaandOpera Parallèle). In this case, though, the gesture seemed inevitable almost to the point of superfluity. Everything about the occasion, after all, was suffused with the distinctive shapes and flavors of Saariaho’s artistry, from the dense, sinuous orchestral writing to the moral and emotional gravity of the subject itself. It felt like a benediction.

“Adriana Mater” is potent and often beautiful, but its rewards are by no means easy. Writer Amin Maalouf’s French-language libretto tackles a difficult, potentially traumatizing subject, and does it without evasion or euphemism. The score is restless and confrontational, often requiring the listener to unearth musical connections that have been deftly camouflaged.

Yet the work’s power is impossible to withstand. It ropes the audience in, entangling us in moral and psychological complexities for which we may not be prepared. At the end of Thursday’s performance, listeners sat poleaxed in their seats, already chewing over what they’d just witnessed.

“阿德里亚娜板牙”被设置在一个未指明的城市撕开n by intermittent civil wars (the Balkans seem like a plausible backdrop, though it hardly matters). Adriana (mezzo-soprano Fleur Barron) is subjected to the amorous advances of Tsargo (baritone Christopher Purves), a drunken layabout with whom she danced once at a local fair.

Under ordinary circumstances Adriana has the ferocious strength of will to keep Tsargo at bay, although her sister Refka (soprano Axelle Fanyo) insists she should treat him with more overt contempt. But when war arrives — spreading, as Maalouf eloquently has it, like a fine dust throughout the city — Tsargo takes the opportunity to rape Adriana and leave her pregnant.

From that point onward, the lives of the characters disperse like the offshoots of the score’s opening orchestral explosion, as each of them tries to find a path forward. Should Adriana keep the child she insists is hers, not her rapist’s? Is she certain of her decision?

She does keep and raise her son, leaving him, in Act 2, with his own dilemmas at 17. Should Yonas (tenor Nicholas Phan) avenge his mother? What does he owe the world, and what does the world owe him?

All these questions are treated with the kind of elemental force that only opera makes possible. (A play on the subject would have entailed a lot more talking.) Saariaho’s music illuminates the inner workings of all four characters — even the demonic Tsargo, who is granted his own dark humanity.

Born and raised in Finland, Saariaho relocated to Paris as a young woman, and she remained for the rest of her life a French composer in all the ways that mattered. Her vocal writing and text-setting are strongly influenced by Debussy. The melodic lines move with a lyrical fluency that takes them in hard-to-predict directions.

But whereas Debussy’s opera “Pelléas and Mélisande” operates in a shimmery, other-worldly sphere, “Adriana” revels in grit and blood and fear; the grim world of Alban Berg’s Expressionist masterpiece“Wozzeck”often comes to mind.

Sellars’ staging embraces the physical limitations of the concert hall by framing the action on three square platforms — one above another, with a third halfway across the stage — which allows him to draw elemental but telling lessons from the performers’ placement. Adriana, for example, looks down on Tsargo in all their interactions. Refka standing far off is a different persona from the Refka who shares a space with Adriana. James F. Ingalls’ ingenious lighting design, at once lurid and subtle, contributes mightily to the effect.

From a purely musical standpoint, Thursday’s performance was a triumph. Saariaho’s compositional arsenal is broad and detailed, and Salonen guided the proceedings with easeful mastery. Members of the San Francisco Symphony Chorus, led by Guest Director Jenny Wong, added richly evocative atmospherics.

All four of the vocal soloists, meanwhile, took the measure of their assignments superbly, from Barron’s thrillingly responsive Adriana to the sepulchral shades of Purves’ Tsargo.

The only thing missing, perhaps, was the full theatrical experience that opera depends on — sets, full staging and so forth.

Next year, theSan Francisco Operaplans the U.S. premiere of Saariaho’s final completed opera, “Innocence.” In the meantime, the Symphony’s “Adriana” is at once a joy in its own right and a tantalizing teaser for joys still to come.

Reach Joshua Kosman:jkosman@sfchronicle.com; Twitter:@JoshuaKosman