As years pass, presentation of musical forms undergoes many transformations. Somehow chamber music has assumed a new identity in the 21st century, forced to relinquish much of its conversational style in the pursuit of larger and larger audiences. Thus, venues such as Carnegie Hall or the various auditoria at Lincoln Center are filled with the small noise of a trio or quartet straining to reach the far corners of the rafters. The very nature of chamber music itself is threatened by this necessary quest for public acceptance.

There are still some places, however, where the art of the blended voices of two, three, or four instruments still seems to be preserved in its original aspect and none of these are more pleasant, both environmentally and acoustically, than Olga Bloom’s Bargemusic on the East River. Cognoscenti of the intimate have been coming here now for years to experience lovely music in a relaxed and familial setting, restoring the hearth and the heart to this most satisfying of all musical experiences.

This hardly seems a secret, as an overflow crowd crammed every nook and cranny of the cozy room on Sunday afternoon to hear artistic director Mark Peskanov and two young charges explore the piano trio repertoire of Beethoven. Beginning before the beginning and ending with the ultimate, the threesome traversed sacred territory and did so splendidly.

No composer in history had a splashier opus one than Beethoven, who composed a set of three of the most pleasant and forward thinking trios ever conceived. But back in Bonn in the early 1790s, Beethoven began his piano trio writing with a set of 14 variations on an original theme, now known to posterity as the “trio number 10.” Although the young composer claimed to have no debt to the mentorship of Haydn, this work belies that premise. Haydn conceived of the piano trio as a solo for the keyboard with string obbligato and this set follows suit. Pianist Steven Beck thus had the lion’s share of the work here and, after some initial fudginess, settled down to some fine pianism. Cellist Raman Ramakrishnan exhibited a solid sense of control, even though most of his part consists of repetition of the piano left hand continuo.

Mr. Peskanov is a violinist of uncommon talents and an infectious Slavic brio. He is a very big guy, and in his enormous hands his fiddle looks like one of those halfsize instruments used in Suzuki class. He possesses a supersize tone, as well, and could easily be a soloist with an orchestra on a regular basis (he does this occasionally). In the Piano Trio No. 2 in G Major from that exceptional opus one, his opening notes demonstrated his thought process about the piece, and established a deep gravitas even before the main theme emerged. If there is a problem with Mr. Peskanov, it is that he dominates his younger players a bit too much, with his warm vibrato and flashing attacks far outweighing the efforts of his mates.

This performance by the trio as a whole was, however, excellent, with Mr. Beck especially shining in the very difficult Presto finale in which Beethoven writes a theme so jam-packed with notes that it is difficult for a keyboardist to exhibit the same level of distinction and staccato as his stringed mates. Mr. Beck began confidently and ended triumphantly.

Finally, the top of the mountain was reached with the “Archduke” Trio, the last of the lot. Beethoven did not take it easy on his noble patron and wrote a complex piano part for him. Here Mr. Beck was quite accurate throughout, but adopted a disappointingly gingerly approach to the task, as if even one mistake would have been too much. The group was especially adept at building the tension in the miraculous slow movement, with the cellist and pianist intoning in an anticipatory manner far beyond their years. I would have thought that no performer in his or her 20s could pull off the emotional content of the “Archduke,” but these two men kept pace with their communicative master, Mr. Peskanov’s phrases dripping with poignancy. There is a lot of great music being made out there that does not rely on the imprimatur of the big Manhattan venues.