Omaha Symphony concertgoers have been able this past month to compare the different approaches of pop music “tribute acts”: Stay faithful to the music while performing as yourself, or simulate both the original recordings and performers as closely as possible.

Tony Kishman, who originated the Paul McCartney role in the “Beatlemania” stage show, has a well-deserved reputation for evoking Sir Paul. A near-capacity Holland Performing Arts Center warmly appreciated the visual and aural resemblance as Kishman and his backup band joined the symphony and resident conductor Ernest Richardson for a tour of McCartney’s career Saturday night.

In concerts paying homage to the Eagles on April 16 and Frank Sinatra last weekend, the guest stars weren’t attempting the musical equivalent of Hal Holbrook’s acclaimed portrayal of Mark Twain. By contrast, “Live and Let Die: The Music of Paul McCartney,” which draws from Sir Paul’s 1970s solo and Wings hits as well as his Beatles catalog, is a logical sequel to “Beatlemania.”

Which approach works better? Well, Steve Lippia, last weekend’s guest star, doesn’t have to compete with the living Sinatra. With the real McCartney still performing worldwide — including in Omaha in recent years — even a spot-on tribute performer is bound to fall just a tad short in charisma.

That said, the audience responded well to Kishman’s emulation of McCartney’s energy and his similarly broad range of musical talent.

Sir Paul most famously plays electric bass, but as Kishman and the symphony illustrated, his classic recording of “Yesterday” used only a simple acoustic guitar with cello backup. “Hey Jude,” “Let It Be” and “The Long and Winding Road,” meanwhile, draw much of their power from the piano.

Attentive fans could closely follow the evolution of McCartney’s composing style through the polished performances of Kishman, guitarist/keyboardist Jim Owen (not a bad Beatle lookalike himself), electric guitarist John Brosnan and drummer Chris Camilieri.

As the Beatles moved on from their early standard-rock sound (illustrated Saturday by “I Saw Her Standing There” and “Can’t Buy Me Love”), McCartney showed an affinity for carefree, delightfully silly songs nodding to his British upbringing (“Penny Lane,” “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and “When I’m Sixty-Four”).

The unforgettable late-Beatles anthems noted earlier, however, pointed the way toward “Band on the Run” (sadly truncated to one verse Saturday), “Silly Love Songs,” “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” and “Live and Let Die.” These typically boasted complex musical layers surrounding a standard classic-rock core.

When called upon, Richardson and the symphony skillfully amplified the extent to which these songs defined 1970s pop-rock in America. They also reminded the Holland audience of the importance of the orchestra in many classic Beatles recordings as well as McCartney’s solo work.

As Kishman pointed out toward the end of the show, performing publicly with an orchestra was “something that Paul McCartney and the Beatles never got to do live.”

Had the Fab Four done so, perhaps it would have sounded much like what Omahans were treated to Saturday. It’s a delightful “what-if” to ponder.