In retrospect, it may have been unfortunate that Yundi Li placed first in the 2000 Chopin International Piano Competition in Warsaw at the tender age of 18. Since then, he has been transformed into a commodity, a major Chinese export.

Carnegie Hall looked very different on Monday evening when Mr. Li performed. There was a spotlight shining directly onto the piano bench. A spotlight. I haven’t seen such lighting on this stage since the last appearance of Liberace. As an emblem of this self-involved recital, the effect was appropriate.

Considering Mr. Li’s youth and his training in Chongqing and Shenzhen, he might be expected to be technically proficient but stylistically and poetically challenged. In the main, he is all of that.

He began with Mozart’s familiar Sonata in C Major, K. 330. As befits Mr. Li’s youthful exuberance, he took the Allegro moderato at a fast clip. This was pleasingly playful, but when he launched into the final Allegretto at a ridiculously fast and ultimately unplayable speed, the joke turned out to be on the audience. Mr. Li needs to learn that American phrase “it ain’t braggin’ if you can back it up.” He could not.

This young firebrand seemed to be in a hurry all evening. After only a peremptory acknowledgement of the applause for the Mozart, he launched into Schumann, leaving the latecom ers to dive for their seats. For the remainder of the evening, he played quite accurately, remarkably so considering his penchant for the breakneck. His poetry, however …

Two of the greatest and strangest works of pianistic Romanticism are Schumann’s “Davidsbuendlertaenze” (“Dances of the League of David”) and the companion piece, “Carnaval.” Both are meant as portraits of many of Schumann’s closest friends, who formed a literary salon-style circle around him and remained loyal even through his most difficult years of mental illness. The individual aural vignettes provide alternate versions of the lively and the melancholy, expressing the bipolarity of every psyche.This is particularly significant when one realizes that many of these “friends” were actually imaginary; the essence of the poetry behind the music is the desperate wish of Schumann to belong.

For a pianist to communicate this elemental longing, he must convincingly contrast the outgoing sections inspired by Florestan (the flamboyant side of Schumann) with the introspective sadness of his alterego, Eusebius. Not surprisingly, the high spirits of Florestan were much more in evidence in Mr. Li’s rendition than the recollections in tranquility of Eusebius. Apparently, Mr. Li has been coached to turn to the audience periodically during the slower passages and look contemplative, the same lesson that Sol Hurok taught Artur Rubinstein when he first came to America. This is simply no substitute for poetic communication, however.

“Carnaval” is being performed twice this week in New York, and I am covering both events. On Sunday, Piers Lane will perform it at the Walter Reade Theater. I hope his approach will be more balanced than that of Mr. Li.

Mr. Li is a bit of a pounder, and chordal material in the left hand was always a little too loud and showy. This was especially evident in the final work of the evening, the Everest of the pianistic world known as the Sonata in B minor of Franz Liszt. This was the best performance of the recital but was plagued by this solipsistic artist’s need to show off his own strength. Rather than communicate the forcefulness of the rhythmic drive eloquently but seemingly effortlessly a la Claudio Arrau or Garrick Ohlsson, Mr. Li insisted on a gargantuan but ultimately clangorous sound,more reminiscent of such Leviathans of the “big hands” school as Emil Gilels and Lazar Berman. This may be a difficult habit to break as he matures.

Still, I found it hard not to admire this young man’s athleticism and enthusiasm. Technically, this realization of the Liszt was very impressive once I became accustomed to the high volume level. The emotion in Liszt is a lot closer to the surface than that of Schumann and so it was by definition conveyed by this pianist. He certainly has a grasp of the big Romantic gesture.

Mr. Li’s need for speed might be explained at least partially by his rushing to the lobby to hawk his CDs after the concert. He is, after all, first and foremost a commodity.