The world is awash in violinists — in young, excellent ones. It seems like every other night throws up a twenty-something fiddler who is both virtuosic and artistically mature. Saturday night saw another one, when Janine Jansen played with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra in Carnegie Hall.

Ms. Jansen is a Dutchwoman who gets starrier by the day. Recently, she recorded the Mendelssohn and Bruch concertos with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, conducted by Riccardo Chailly (on Decca). (Bruch wrote three violin concertos, but when we say “the Bruch Concerto,” we know what we mean — the First, in G minor.) The Mendelssohn and the Bruch are a longtime pairing, a couple of warhorses. But Ms. Jansen makes them gallop beautifully, sleekly, and winningly.

It was the Mendelssohn that she played with the chamber orchestra on Saturday night. In an interview published in the Orpheus program, here’s what she had to say about the piece: It is “one of the most fresh violin concertos” ever written. “It is such a genius piece, so lively. It has a certain pureness to it, and it is unpretentious.”

Quite so. And Ms. Jansen played it much this way.

Her tone was liquid and focused, and her phrasing was natural and apt. She was both accurate and aware, musically. In the first movement, particularly, she was somewhat small-scale — we sometimes wanted more sound, more oomph. But you could argue that she was playing with a chamber orchestra, and that her smallness was okay.

I’m not so sure.

In the Andante, she was melting and sweet, but unsentimental, which is laudable. And the final movement was appropriately nifty and gay. Ms. Jansen had some rough spots, technically, and she did a couple of quirky things, musically — but no harm was done, and much, endearing good.

She is clearly a musician and a craftsman, Janine Jansen. She has an intimate and special relationship with that instrument under her chin. When you hear her, and see her, you don’t wonder why audiences the world over have flipped for her.

The Orpheus Chamber Orchestra had begun the concert with two brief works by Poul Ruders, a Danish composer born in 1949. The first was “Credo,” written in the mid-1990s to honor the late violinist, conductor, and humanist Yehudi Menuhin on his 80th birthday. When the piece begins, it is “spiritual” and seeking. Then some disturbing elements come in, clouding the atmosphere. But the seeking continues.

Overall, this piece is both beautiful and slightly unsettling, or doubtful — an interesting and commendable small creation.

The second Ruders piece was rather different: “Trapeze,” composed in 1992. It is wacky, circusy, screechy, squirmy. I think Shostakovich, who loved the circus and its music, would enjoy it. And the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra played it competently, if not with perfect precision and zip. “Credo,” they had played with ample sensitivity and care.

The second half of the program was given over to a Schumann symphony: No. 2 in C major, Op. 61. This conductorless chamber orchestra is feeling its oats, huh? Enough of Vivaldi and Haydn — time for some Romantic symphonies. What’s next, the Bruckner Eighth?

The orchestra’s adventure in Schumann more or less worked. The first movement was the worst of the lot. After a shaky entrance, the opening section of this movement was slow, plodding, and lifeless; the subsequent section missed its heroic and ringing quality. Still, the playing was respectable.

Next comes the Scherzo, and it held together decently. After that comes the slow movement — and it was decently, even nicely, sighing and arching. The finale? It was decently gladdening, decently affirming, even if it could have used more heft. Surprisingly, this movement was short on bounce, and chamber orchestras are supposed to specialize in bounce.

George Szell had a big ol’ Cleveland Orchestra, and he played this music with plenty of bounce.

Anyway … I will again say that Orpheus’s adventure in Schumann more or less worked (and probably more more than less). Even so, they might want to stay away from Bruckner.