SALZBURG, Austria – The festival in this town is big on voices: on operas and song recitals. It has ever been thus. But instrumentalists have their place, and this year we have about seven piano recitals and one violin recital. That violin recital? It was given by Midori on Thursday night in the Mozarteum’s Grosser Saal. Midori, of course, is the Japanese-American violinist who goes by one name. Her partner last week was Charles Abramovic, a Philadelphia-based pianist.

Midori played a traditional violin recital – you might say a classic one – beginning with a Mozart sonata, continuing with the Ravel sonata, circling back for a Beethoven sonata, continuing with a modern piece, and ending with a couple of Tchaikovsky chestnuts. (By the way, “chestnut,” in my vocabulary, is no putdown.) Throughout the program, Midori displayed her usual qualities, chief among them poise and tastefulness.

The sonata with which she and Mr. Abramovic began was Mozart’s in B flat, K. 454. Its first movement starts with a Largo, and proceeds with an Allegro. From Midori, the Largo sounded rather like a romance – it was freely and feelingly played. And then when the Allegro came in, it was chipper and well defined. All the same, Midori might have done more with Mozart’s bits of humor. As for Mr. Abramovic, he proved a full and sympathetic partner.

In the slow movement, an Andante, Midori barely escaped mousiness, and, in truth, her playing became a little dull: It was unmoving, in both senses of the word: The music could have used more of a walking pace, and a little more heart. This was perilously close to drawing-room Mozart.

But the final movement (Allegretto) was graceful and sweet, and altogether Mozartean. A touch more bite would have been appreciated, but Midori did not fade into the wallpaper.

The presence of the Ravel sonata on the program reminded me that Midori is one of the best “French” violinists going. Indeed, her recording of three French sonatas – by Saint-Saens, Debussy, and Poulenc – with the pianist Robert McDonald is one of the best such recordings I know. (It’s available from Sony.) And I am talking about recordings from Jacques Thibaud on.

In Ravel’s first movement, Midori was amazingly delicate, and almost overly so: You don’t need to be afraid to break porcelain in this movement. And I might note that she used sheet music, as she had in the Mozart, and as she would in most of the program. In the Ravel first movement, she really stared at the music, too. Charles Abramovic showed himself a fine colorist, and he knew to blend with his violinist.

The middle movement – Blues. Moderato – was very decorous, very polite, with Midori de-emphasizing its American side. She knew what she was doing, however, and the movement’s ending was nicely slinky and bluesy. The last movement, Midori gave a load of technique, if not much musical imagination. Then again, it is a perpetual motion: You basically just let it whir.

The second half of the recital started with a Beethoven sonata in A major – not the “Kreutzer,” but the Sonata No. 6, Op. 30, No. 1. Both musicians – violinist and pianist – applied to the Beethoven what they had to the Mozart, although they were a little more robust. (Rightly so.) The music had character and involvement from each of them. The slow movement in this sonata is one of the best Beethoven ever wrote, and the pair did it justice. They breathed well in it. They may have been slightly too slow, but they were far from indifferent: They obeyed Beethoven’s marking, Adagio molto espressivo. If Mr. Abramovic had a fault, it was that he committed some thumping, in melodic lines.

So, who is Einojuhani Rautavaara? With a name like that, a Finn, certainly, and a composer more frequently heard in Europe than in the U.S. Midori played his “Dithyrambos,” a brief work composed in 1970. (Earlier, I described this piece as a “modern piece” – but 1970 was a while ago, no?) The opening of “Dithyrambos” sounds like a quick, quick Prokofiev toccata, and then the music becomes slow and sly. Midori handled it superbly. According to the program notes, Mr. Rautavaara has written a violin concerto – it would be good to hear it.

At this point, Midori put away her music stand for those Tchaikovsky morceaux, the Melodie from his Op. 42 and the Valse-Scherzo, Op. 34. In the former, Midori was unbelievably correct, polite, when a bit more Kreislerian give or panache might have suited. Then again, this piece is Romantic enough – Midori never gilds the lily. To the Valse-Scherzo, she brought first nostalgia, then ample virtuosity. Midori is a complete violinist.

After those two “encores” – encore-like items – do you play an encore? Midori did: She played a transcription of the Entr’acte from Glazunov’s ballet “Raymonda.” She treated it dreamily, sending the audience away in a kind of happy trance.

And I wish to offer a couple of footnotes: Midori provided the English-language program notes for this recital, and they were exactly like her playing: intelligent, correct, and clear.

Also, remember the dog that didn’t bark, in Sherlock Holmes? I was reminded of this when a cell phone went off during Midori’s program. At the Salzburg Festival, cell phones virtually never go off. I don’t know why. In New York, one is startled when they don’t – the music sounds wrong, somehow. The man whose phone went off almost died from dismay. (He was in front of me, slightly to the left.) He was the very definition of mortified. I suggest he come to New York, and be reassured!