Brahms and Wagner were both enchanted by the Faust legend, but each only composed one overture on the subject. The Brahms entry, that we now know as the “Tragic” — Brahms let his publisher pick the title — opened the program of the Oratorio Society of New York on Tuesday evening at Carnegie Hall.

The orchestra of the society is a relatively small one, about the size that Brahms would have been working with at the time. Once the listener became accustomed to their rather thin sound, the performance of the overture was an animated one, lacking gravitas perhaps but clean and crisply enunciated.

Brahms was not a man of faith, but did possess deep compassion. He composed his Requiem not for the souls of the dead, but rather for the living left to grieve. It is a work of stunning restorative powers and the strongest possible gentleness. Ubiquitous after September 11, 2001, the piece has not appeared that often in recent years, which may have more to do with the exit of Kurt Masur than any other single event. On Tuesday, conductor Kent Tritle led a quiet and calming realization, kindred spirit to the sensibility of Brahms.

The most successful sections were those wherein the chorus sang a cappella, at the commencement of the work and especially in the fourth movement. That con moto moderato in E flat major is the rocking fulcrum of the entire larger construction, and emphasizes like no other the caressing emotional center. Intoned quite softly but briskly, the effect was magical, the musicianship superb.

There are at least three different ways to fashion the second movement, a stormy moderato in modo di Marcia. A leader can call for fist-pounding percussion, à la Herbert von Karajan, or he can stress the powerful brass chorales, like Otto Klemperer, or, like Mr. Tritle, he can downplay these martial touches in favor of a consistency of grace and charity. However, in any scenario, the movement is loud and boisterous, and here the choir was less than at its best. Raising the decibel level caused the higher female voices to sharp and the men to get sloppy. The orchestra strained a bit as well, some adventurous high notes in the trumpets on the wayward side. There was consistent energy, but not always corresponding beauty.

There are two soloists in the mix and each did a creditable job. Soprano Susanna Phillips was featured as an angelic or motherly voice — biographers differ on the effect of the demise of the composer’s own mother on this fifth movement’s composition — and was good not only technically but also in creating an emotional overlay. Oddly, in the notes that she should have elongated in order to soar over the instrumentalists, she instead clipped them so that no vocalise effect was forthcoming. Baritone Christopher Feigum exhibited a good church voice, perhaps more suited to a smaller solo in a Bach cantata, but serviceable nonetheless. He was a model of solid pitch control.

Overall, this evening saw a praiseworthy rendition very well attended. This was not a Carnegie-sponsored event, but rather a rental of the hall, and this caused at least one serious problem. Although Mr. Tritle had clearly made arrangements to create a pause in order to accommodate latecomers between the second and third movements, even going so far as to have his chorus sit and then stand after a long interval, the ushering staff allowed people to come and go as they pleased throughout the performance, causing much breaking of the moods so assiduously constructed by the society’s singers and players. But much more memorable was the good effort of these dedicated musicians, amateurs in the best and noblest sense of the word.