It may surprise some to learn that Maurizio Pollini is 62 years old. Is that all? Practically a pup, in the music world. You can be forgiven for thinking that this pianist has been on our stages forever. He has, in fact, been on them for about 40 years. That’s two generations, if we count as we used to.

Mr. Pollini was on the stage of Carnegie Hall on Sunday afternoon, for a program of Chopin and Debussy – and then a lot more Chopin. (I will explain in due course.)

The first half of the program consisted of two nocturnes, a ballade, and a sonata. (All Chopin.) If you will bear with me, Mr. Pollini is a musician who plays rather like he looks: tidy, natty, fit, disciplined, angular, somewhat severe. His Chopin was, as always, brisk, no-nonsense, and unsentimental. This is a cool customer, Mr. Pollini – also an intelligent and musical one.

In the first nocturne (that in B major, Op. 32, No. 1), he exhibited a plain beauty, although one might complain that his tone was a little thin – bordering on tinny, occasionally. Passagework was extraordinarily crisp, and uses of rests were exemplary. One might have argued for a little more tenderness.

The second nocturne – that in Aflat major, Op. 32, No. 2 – sounded like Schubert in these hands. The feeling was late Classical, on the cusp of the Romantic period. This nocturne was masculine, straightforward, economical. Chopin can use these qualities, even if Mr. Pollini now and then overdoes them.

In the ballade, we stayed in the key of A flat, for it was the Ballade No. 3. Here – as elsewhere – Mr. Pollini displayed his keen sense of line. What’s that? It is a matter of phrasing, and weight, and musical perception. Mr. Pollini was wise to give the ballade a little, dancey bounce. But he might have offered more rhapsody, a greater sense of fantasia. Mr. Pollini is so very contained. Some of Chopin’s phrases could have been enjoyed more, savored a bit. Not milked, mind you – just savored.

Mr. Pollini’s Chopin is extraordinarily business-like. I find it remarkable that such a temperament should be interested in Chopin (and, again, the composer benefits, to a degree).As for technique, Mr. Pollini has a lot of it – maybe not Pletnev amounts, but a lot. That said, he was somewhat sloppy and stiff in the ballade’s final section.

The sonata was No. 2, in B-flat minor – the one with the funeral march. Concerning that movement, there is one main question to ask: Did it build as it should? Did it have its unrelenting, inexorable power? Not quite (is my answer). But the middle section – with that lovely, simple, almost Disney-like tune – was nicely matter-offact. And the final movement – the ghostly toccata – was superb. It was the best-played movement of the sonata. I hope it’s not too insulting to point out that it’s the one requiring the least “interpretation.”

After intermission, Mr. Pollini played the Book II preludes of Debussy – all of them. Mr. Pollini has a thing for completeness: Not long ago in Carnegie Hall, he played all of the Chopin preludes.

Mr. Pollini’s virtues as a Debussyan are considerable: He provides a rare clarity in this music. Even his Impressionist blurs are clear, if you will allow clear blurs (an oxymoron that makes musical sense, even if it makes no other). He does not place great emphasis on delicacy, but he has enough delicacy. He has colors, too – maybe not as many as Jean-Yves Thibaudet (for example), but plenty.

“La puerta del vino” was gutsily Spanish; “Bruyeres” had huge warmth – a surprising warmth – and nobility; “General Lavine – eccentric” was spiky, jaunty, jokey; “Ondine” – that piece so loved by Arthur Rubinstein, who often used it as an encore – was neatly dispatched; and in “Les Tierces alternees,” Mr. Pollini showed that formidable technique.

He also showed a little singing technique – not so formidable – though he does not sing at Glenn Gould levels. (I am speaking of what comes out of his mouth, not what comes out of the keyboard.)

Mr. Pollini’s approach to the preludes was clinical. He virtually dissected them. The doctor was in.

He gave the adoring audience four encores, the first of which was another blast of Debussy, and the second of which was the Chopin G-minor ballade. What? That is no encore piece. No: It is a program piece. It is really too long for an encore. But Mr. Pollini played it, and did not play it terribly well, treating it rather perfunctorily, not exploiting its possibilities. I believe this was the least successful playing of the afternoon. More successful was Chopin’s D-flat-major prelude (modest, clean), and his C-sharp-minor etude (fierce, accurate, stirring). So, that amounted to a second Chopin program.

And then the doctor was out.