Sharon Roffman was soloist for the Mozart and Haydn violin concerti Saturday.

The Paris conjured in the imagination of American visitors is a distinctive and palpable enough place to warrant its own passport stamp. Thomas Oboe Lee’s new Symphony No. 8, “City of Light’’ - commissioned by the Boston Classical Orchestra, premiered by them and conductor Steven Lipsitt at Faneuil Hall on Saturday - seems to unapologetically illustrate that imaginary Paris as much as the real one.

Lee’s travelogue is more suite than symphony, more scenery than discourse. Even the scenery feels idealized, Parisian-inspired genre evocations rather than the immediate experience of the city: a heavy drape of Byzantine chant for Sacré-Coeur, a swirl of asymmetric waltz for the Palais Garnier. The “Musée du Louvre’’ finale plays as a Ravellian soundtrack, a romantic reunion among the museum’s grand, chaotic profusion, maybe, instead of the profusion itself.

The music, well-anchored tonality spiced with Impressionistically jazzy touches, eschews development for charm: For the “Avenue des Champs-Élysées,’’ Lee sets up a chattering backdrop of pizzicato strings, lays in piquant chorales from the horns and bassoons, high accents from the other winds, deep cello-bass pedals - and then simply regards such diverting colors from various angles. The charm is sincere; the symphony might be the equivalent of postcards, but few cities provide such views the way Paris does.

Violinist Sharon Roffman was soloist for the first concerti of both Mozart (K. 207) and Haydn (Hob. VIIa:1). Roffman was terrific, her tone warm but refined and focused, her interpretation a thoughtful, absorbing push-pull, giving extra lingering emphasis to those points where each phrase’s arch started its tumble into the next, encouraging the music forward, gently nudging its energy into the spotlight. The accompaniment confirmed the group’s comfortable flair for such classical repertoire, Lipsitt and the orchestra backing Roffman up with easygoing polish.

Lipsitt and the orchestra bookended Lee’s vacation with Mozart’s Symphony No. 31, the “Paris’’ symphony, written while the composer visited the city in search of a post-Salzburg career boost. Both music and performance exhibited a fairly extroverted urbanity, an amplified, purposefully showy demonstration of fine etiquette suitable for a job interview.

In actuality, Mozart’s Paris trip was lousy enough - no job was forthcoming, his mother died - that he may have most enjoyed seeing the city in his rearview mirror. At the very least, his symphony, was, unusually, a reverse souvenir: less a reminder of Paris than a reminder of Mozart himself, for the city’s benefit.