The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra rolled into Carnegie Hall for a three-concert stand. These concerts took place on Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday afternoon. The middle concert was all-Bartok, and had a soloist: Lang Lang, the mercurial young Chinese pianist. The final concert was purely orchestral, offering Schumann and Wagner. About the opening concert, more in a moment.

As the Vienna Philharmonic has no music director, opting for endless guests, you never know who will lead them — and, for this stand, it was the Argentinian-born musician Daniel Barenboim. He left the Chicago Symphony Orchestra last summer, after 15 years. The New York Philharmonic’s music director, Lorin Maazel, has recommended that Mr. Barenboim succeed him. And that would make sense: For one thing, Mr. Barenboim would be in utter harmony with the city’s elites, politically and socially.

But he has many other gigs for now, and one of them was this series with the Vienna Philharmonic. Friday night’s program consisted of two symphonies — by Schubert and Bruckner. The Schubert was the Symphony No. 5 in B flat, written when the composer was 19. One is apt to forget how much Schubert did in a very short life (he lived to 31). A musician friend of mine pointed out recently that, if Beethoven had lived the same amount of years, we would have only one symphony from him. No “Eroica,” no Fifth, no Ninth. Not even the Symphony No. 2 in D major!

In my view, Schubert’s Symphony No. 5 should begin almost as though already in progress. Mr. Barenboim did not quite handle it that way, preferring more of an announcement. And he was very, very fast in this movement — you could even say rushed. The music had less grace and more muscle than it normally does. At the same time, the Vienna Philharmonic played very cleanly.

The second movement, Andante con moto, is one of the loveliest things in Schubert, and Mr. Barenboim gave it a wise, breathable tempo. He also gave it the proper breadth. (Interesting how breath and breadth are related — they come from the same Middle English word.) The third movement, a minuet, had a dark and slightly menacing sound. A minuet, dark and menacing? In the case of Schubert’s Fifth, yes. And Mr. Barenboim phrased the music superbly. He exhibited what I can only call a lyrical pugnacity. And that applies to a lot of Mr. Barenboim’s conducting, come to think of it. He is a lyrically pugnacious, or a pugnaciously lyrical, fellow.

The last movement was fast, like the first one, only this tempo was entirely appropriate. And Schubert’s music was clear and exciting. I should say, too, that Mr. Barenboim emphasized some modulations unusually and shrewdly.

The Bruckner was the Symphony No. 7, one of the greatest of the symphonies by that supremely great symphonist. And when the work began, we were hit by that wondrous Vienna Philharmonic sound — warm and enveloping. Sound is not everything, but it ain’t nothing, particularly in Bruckner.

As in the Schubert, Mr. Barenboim phrased like a champion, and he allowed no nonsense — not in the first movement. There was nothing self-consciously profound; there was certainly nothing cutesy. Mr. Barenboim conducted this music rather as he would Beethoven. His reading might have been too tight and robust for some, but I admired it, finding it stirring. Moreover, there is no need to try for profundity when conducting Bruckner; the composer has built the profundity in. Oftentimes, you should simply leave him alone.

The slow movement of the Seventh is a transcendental glory, and it started well: thick in tone, hymn-like, hugely noble. Then it sighed and sang away, with its beloved rocking lines. As the movement progressed, however, some passages bordered on studied or mannered. Then came the Scherzo, which was certainly not bad, but which could have used more subtlety and character — more ominousness, for example.

In the last movement, the orchestra really let loose, particularly its low brass, which, on this listener, had a well-nigh physical effect: The sound shook you up, and not unpleasantly. And how strange for a sound so loud to be so rounded! Nonetheless, this movement was a little blustery, and the end was somewhat hurried. Bruckner’s E major should simply wash over you, providing relief, uplift, and what we might call a triumphant comfort.

But Daniel Barenboim is a fine Brucknerian, as he proved once again. And a bath in Bruckner is about as close to worship as you can get in music.