The Faust legend put in an appearance at Carnegie Hall on Monday night, in the form of Berlioz’s “Damnation of Faust.” What is this work? An oratorio, an opera, a “dramatic cantata,” as it has been formally labeled? It’s all those things, and essentially what you conceive it to be. It is also a fantastically brilliant work.

And it was conducted by a dedicated Berliozian, James Levine. He led his Boston Symphony Orchestra and the Tanglewood Festival Chorus. And he had a very good night, engaged and compelling.

You could nitpick a little (and why not?): Parts of the score were slightly ponderous, especially in the early going. And Mr. Levine seemed to me a little score-bound at times. You know the Hungarian March, also known as the Rakoczy March? It was determined, as it must be, but also a little charmless — and, in my mind, the march is not entirely martial. I also think the Dance of the Will-o’-the-Wisps could have been more … debonair, let’s say.

But enough of nitpicking: Mr. Levine conducted as gratifying a performance as you are ever likely to hear.

I often say that he injects a little Beethoven into whatever he conducts: Mozart, Wagner, Tchaikovsky. And that was certainly the case with the Berlioz work. It was disciplined, clear, and taut. This was particularly true of the choruses (and we know what Mr. Levine’s choruses are like, from his thousands of nights at the Metropolitan Opera). He allowed no Romantic slop, although he was far from stifling. And Berlioz’s horse ride into hell was utterly gripping.

If that didn’t shake your nerves and rattle your brain, nothing will.

The title role is a long and difficult one, and it was admirably filled by the American tenor Paul Groves. He is an experienced Berliozian, having sung in the Requiem, for example. And on Monday night he sang ardently, intelligently, and securely. His sound was a bit pinched from time to time, but mainly he was free. And the very high notes he sang — C sharps — were not especially pretty. But they were there, and pretty brave.

I note, too, that, of all the performers, he was the only one not to use a score. The man is well familiar with the opera (or whatever). He also stayed “in character,” all through. Whether this is desirable in a concert performance is a matter of taste.

Singing the part of Méphistophélès was José van Dam, the Belgian bass-baritone born in 1940. Mr. van Dam demonstrated mastery over self and mastery over his part: He is an exemplary pro. The voice is worn, sure, but Mr. van Dam has earned this wear, so to speak. And he sang Méphistophélès as a wily old gent. He was smooth and seductive, and his French was a treat to hear.

The aria “Voici des roses” had a gentle elegance; and the later serenade, “Devant la maison,” was Gallic and wicked. (Yes, there is a difference.)

Three seasons ago, a Swiss mezzo-soprano named Yvonne Naef had a fairly major success at the Metropolitan Opera. She sang a trio of roles in Wagner’s “Ring” cycle, notably Fricka. And it was she who sang Marguerite on Monday night. Ms. Naef is a tasteful, cultured woman, and it showed. She sang with restraint and dignity — tenderness as well. Her big aria, “D’amour l’ardente flamme,” was not lush, as it has been from, say, Olga Borodina and Jessye Norman. But it was endearingly shaped.

And, look: It’s not easy to sing the word “hélas” — “alas” — without coming off as corny or melodramatic. Ms. Naef can.

In the brief part of Brander was a young American bass, Andrew Gangestad, who has a fine instrument at his disposal. He sang in a suitably lively manner. But his sound was just a bit muffled, and low notes, in particular, were hard to hear — needing more pop.

The Boston Symphony Orchestra was once called “the aristocrat of orchestras,” and, aristocratic or not, it played capably. The horns on the hunt were especially good. And the Tanglewood Festival Chorus was capable, too, although the tenors had some worrisome moments. Late in the game — at 10:30, to be precise — a group of kids came on. What were they doing up so late? They were the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, and were helping to beckon Marguerite into the heavenly state.

Perhaps the biggest winner of the concert was “The Damnation of Faust” itself. Even those who aren’t hardcore Berliozians must recognize that this is a Romantic masterpiece (if you even need the qualifier “Romantic”). It brims with imagination on virtually every page. And it is a prize in the catalogue of Faust works, which bulges. On Sunday, a woman named Faust was named president of Harvard. So it has been a good week for Fausts all around.