Two years ago, Gidon Kremer brought his Kremerata Baltica to Zankel Hall. Among his usual gang of young Baltic musicians was Andrius Zlabys, a Lithuanian pianist. He stood out with his mature playing. And he had a stage to himself on Tuesday afternoon — he played a recital at Merkin Hall.

He chose an interesting program, too. Mr. Zlabys began with Bach, the Partita No. 6 in E minor. In the first pages, he was rather free, causing the music to be somewhat flabby. But he soon found his balance: between strictness and looseness, between feeling and duty. His Bach was “moderate,” but not in a negative sense: It was far from boring. It was simply sensible, musically.

Mr. Zlabys did not try to be a Lisztian pianist, but neither was he was a mousy clavichordist. He played his grand-piano Bach fearlessly and boldly — but he respected the Baroque.

Some further observations: Occasionally — just occasionally — Mr. Zlabys got a little typewriterish. A little mechanical. And in the Courante, he did some unfortunate rushing, getting ahead of himself. Finally, in the Gigue, he was somewhat harsh and percussive. Still, this wonderful dance had its bracing effect. I was amazed to rediscover how modern it sounds.

But then, Bach is modern, as well as ancient — he is timeless and eternal.

Mr. Zlabys is a striking figure at the piano. He hunches over it in Gouldian fashion: At times, his nose seems about to touch the keys. And he really, really takes his time before beginning a piece; he waits for what seems like a half-hour, hands hovered over the keyboard. Curious.

Next on the program was a section from Messiaen’s two-hour piano work, “Vingt regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus.” The section was “Le baiser de l’Enfant-Jésus,” a strange and lovely thing. Mr. Zlabys played it with obvious intelligence and mastery. But he was slightly slow in it, and also blunt — even a little rough. The music could have used more of a blur, more tenderness, and more beauty. At least, though, Mr. Zlabys avoided the namby-pamby (and the airy-fairy).

After intermission, he played a piece by Yevgeniy Sharlat, born in 1977, a teacher in Texas. This was a Prelude and Fugue in B minor, an interesting, mysterious, slightly other-worldly opus. Mr. Zlabys played it with care and sensitivity.

And then he went into another B-minor piece: Franck’s Prelude, Chorale, and Fugue from 1884. This is an old-fashioned piece, favored by virtuosos of yore, and Mr. Zlabys is to be congratulated for programming it. (A senior pianist, Ivan Moravec, played it at the Metropolitan Museum in March.) Throughout the work, Mr. Zlabys commanded the keyboard, with his big hands, and big, bold ideas.

But there were problems: At times, this work calls for a religious feeling, and a noble one. And Mr. Zlabys did not adequately convey these feelings. He let some priceless moments go by, or stepped on them with coarse playing. I’m thinking in particular of some cross-handed passages. Also, the work’s ending was without its coursing joy.

Nonetheless, this was a respectable account, by a pianist who knows what he wants to do, whether we like what he wants or not.

To close the printed program was one of the great Prokofiev sonatas, the Seventh, which ends with that marvelous, driving, hell-bent movement marked Precipitato. The opening Allegro, Mr. Zlabys played stylishly and convincingly: He was both smooth and crunchy (sounds like I’m talking about peanut butter, I know). The Andante was somewhat overmilked, but okay. And the Precipitato?

All program long, I had been waiting for it, thinking Mr. Zlabys would play the blazes out of it. And it was all right — a little sloppy, undisciplined, and anticlimactic. He can do much better. Also, as an American, I like a speck of jazz in this music — with its syncopation and all. But that is personal preference.

Mr. Zlabys gave the audience one encore, Busoni’s beloved treatment of Bach’s “Ich ruf’ zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ.” (This recital emphasized the holy.) Our pianist played it decently. He did not exactly transfigure the room, but he put forth dignity and beauty.

Merkin Hall’s Tuesday Matinees are a good thing in New York. There’s a “Catch a Rising Star” flavor to them. In February, the young Spanish clarinetist Jose Franch-Ballester played a rollicking recital there. And Andrius Zlabys has proven his worth, too. Despite my criticisms, he is an excellent pianist, and he provided an afternoon that was never for a second uninteresting.