As the New York Philharmonic winds down its season, the Philharmonic chamber concerts have wound down theirs: We heard the last one on Sunday afternoon at Merkin Hall. On the program were two works, only: Schubert’s “Trout” Quintet and the Sextet of Krzysztof Penderecki, composed in 2000.

Both pieces require a pianist, and these were guests, which is to say, not members of the Philharmonic (although orchestras have pianists!): Evelyn Chen played in the Schubert, and Vladimir Stoupel played in the Penderecki.

And the Philharmonic players themselves? To be in an orchestra is, in a sense, to be anonymous, but some orchestral players are more anonymous than others. That is, you may know who the concertmaster is, but not who the sixth chair in the second violins is. The players assembled at Merkin Hall – and none of the 11 players performed in both pieces – were not big Philharmonic names. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t play in a big way.

As anyone who has sat through countless “Trout” Quintets knows, this piece is often weakly performed. Its banes are sluggishness and preciousness. Some groups think they are approaching something holy, fragile, and perfumed, when, in reality, the “Trout” is a fun, joyous, almost rip-roaring piece. The Philharmonic players knew this, thank goodness: There was nothing sluggish or precious about their rendition.

The pianist, Ms. Chen, opened with some beautifully rippling chords. Throughout the work, she played boldly and confidently, but not bluntly. The other players evinced a similar spirit. Schubert’s first movement, Allegro vivace, had lots of bonhomie. Yulia Ziskel exhibited nice, modest leadership on the violin. Satoshi Okamoto, the double bassist, emitted a buzzy warmth. And the five were not strangers to one another: They were in coordination.

The Andante movement began with a not-great entrance, but the tempo, once more, was not too slow – a huge relief. You could have asked for a more pronounced gypsy inflection in the low strings, and the group, overall, suffered from some flatness (of pitch). But these were minor annoyances. Ms. Chen was impressive in her musical poise, and all the players had to contend with a serious plastic bag in the audience: The woman who owned it was playing it but good.

The Scherzo had a superb vigor, thanks mainly to the pianist. This movement was not really polished, from a technical point of view, but the group made up for it with exuberance. And in the fourth movement – the theme and variations – Ms. Chen was nicely matter of fact. She also displayed much nimbleness and grace. String players had further intonation trouble, but at least they were unprissy. A current ran through this movement; often it is bogged down.

And the last movement – Allegro giusto (marvelous marking, that) – could have been more together, but it made a robust, heartfelt finale, in a wonderfully robust, heartfelt performance.

I realize this is a concert review, not a record review, but let me sneak in an extraneous word: EMI has just released a recording of a piano quintet written by Thomas Ades, the prominent Brit, and the “Trout” Quintet. Mr. Ades serves as pianist in both works. Leaving aside his worth as a composer, he is an excellent pianist, and his spirited, stylish, knowledgeable playing makes this “Trout” a great pleasure. I’m not sure I know a better recording, even amid all the famous ones.

Krzysztof Penderecki composed his Sextet for violin, viola, cello, clarinet, horn, and piano. The work is in two movements, but these feel like more than two movements, for there is considerable variety within each. The first movement contains several little conversations, and we hear a fair amount of Shostakovich: that cackle, that dark humor. The clarinetist, Pascual Martinez Forteza, executed one attractive lick after another. And he was important in the Shostakovich-like bits, because if you want to mock, taunt, or cackle, you need a woodwind – preferably a clarinet.

The pianist, Mr. Stoupel, played very, very percussively, but not wrongly: The music could bear it, and in spots it needed it. The violinist, Anna Rabinova, contributed a playful edge. And Howard Wall managed a not-easy horn part.(Are there any easy horn parts?)

Mr. Penderecki’s second movement begins with some calming noodling on the piano. But soon the music grows insistent, and the Philharmonic ensemble was full of insistence. At one point, you get a bit of the dance hall, from the composer – he is flirting with pastiche. And the work ends with a beautiful, affecting – rather disturbing – lament, which the cellist Qiang Tu and the violist Dawn Hannay, in particular, handled admirably.

These chamber-music concerts are opportunities for Philharmonic members to show that they can really play. This may be especially true for the “back-benchers,” the players who don’t get many solo chances in the orchestra. Of course, they’d better be able to play – if they can’t, there are thousands of eager musicians ready to take their places.