The Marlboro Music Festival may be based in Vermont, but it makes yearly New York appearances. On Friday evening, five relatively young people appeared with one established player in a concert that, in the main, showcased exceptional music making.

The festival may have been founded by German violinist Adolph Busch, but it was his son-inlaw Rudolf Serkin who shaped it into a significant learning experience. Serkin lived by three rules: Students should perform with veterans for each to learn from the other, pieces should never be performed in concert until they were ready, and everyone should have fun.

In keeping with this philosophy, Croatian hornist Radovan Vlatkovic, an established expert of this recalcitrant instrument, teamed with violinist Soovin Kim and pianist Anna Polonsky for Johannes Brahms’s Trio in E Flat Major for Violin, Horn, and Piano.

This is an extremely difficult piece for the horn player, but Mr. Vlatkovic’s gingerly approach, while reasonably accurate enough, was deadly dull. There is much great music here, emotive and dark, strident and triumphant, but these moods were subsumed by this practitioner’s timidity and desire for perfection of articulation. What was striking about this rendition of the “horn trio” was that the violin totally dominated; Mr. Kim, performing on a 1709 Stradivarius, played rings around who should normally be the featured artist. Ms. Polonsky was solid throughout, if a bit self-effacingly quiet.

But to make matters worse, Mr. Vlatkovic, after 20 minutes of walking on eggshells, totally blew the ending, getting caught up in a maelstrom of wrong notes, bleats, and brays. He would have been better served by loosening up from the beginning and playing not the notes, but the music.

The other great work on the program was performed masterfully. The String Quartet of Maurice Ravel is one of the wonders of the classical repertoire, a shining, sparkling jewel in the right hands. Here, Mr. Kim was joined by Jessica Lee, second violin, Jonathan Vinocour, viola, and Soo Bae, cello, who also plays a Strad, this one from 1696. The resultant sound was superb, blended exquisitely but also containing individual beauties that thrilled to the very bones.

Especially notable were the precise technical maneuvers of the group, such as the pizzicatos of the Assez vif — Tres rythme shot out at breakneck speed and the wildly emotive snippets of synaptic material that flash by occasionally in this essay. Each part was intoned strikingly, but I was particularly enamored with the clarity of Ms. Lee’s playing — her supporting utterances came through with crystalline enunciation. Thirty years ago the Tokyo Quartet — when its members were all from Japan — rendered a version this electric at Yale, but this current affair was at least as impressive.

Two much less consequential works were also on the program. Concertino for String Quartet is one of those Stravinsky pieces that sounds like a parody of Stravinsky, with lots of circus effects and noodling around in dotted rhythms. And John Harbison’s Twilight Music, as the name implies, is a little less dark that your average contemporary piece, but is really just three jazz chords that move around the odd combination of piano, violin, and horn in a slowfast-slow pattern to establish a rather kitschy effect. Both were played intently, although Ms. Lee, in her one opportunity to shine as solo violinist, may have bestowed a good deal more assiduity and intelligent phrasing on the Harbison than it actually deserved.

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Although some critics have found his methods idiosyncratic and arcane, William Christie has a reputation as a developer of young vocal talent. His group, Les Arts Florissants, presents introductory concerts titled Le Jardin des Voix on a regular basis, and the latest flower show was held Saturday evening at Alice Tully Hall. It contained, as is usually the case, an excellent period instrument ensemble, raw voices, and showmanship by the bagful. Mr. Christie is fond of semi-staging, and this event was choreographed by Elsa Rooke. Not only were the arias acted out, but such vocal numbers as Monteverdi madrigals were dramatized. Even purely orchestral offerings were accompanied in dumbshow. The result was delightful, taking some attention away from the cantillating aspirants and their imperfect presentations.

Mr. Christie himself is often part of the staged action, but this night he was relegated to the role of head cheerleader for much of the first half of the program, since the Paleolithic music of Monteverdi and Cavalli often required no conductor. Dressed in primavera colors, the aspirants demonstrated a wide range of vocal talent, an enviable amount of physical grace, and a rather narrow spectrum of thespianism (there is a certain Stepford feel to a Christie presentation).

Les Arts also adds variety by positioning its instrumentalists in varying spots. At the commencement of the evening, all who didn’t have to sit marched onto the stage while intoning the introduction to Monteverdi’s Questi vaghi concenti. Sometimes the orchestra members stood antiphonally, sometimes they sat, with the higher strings all on stage right, but with their order reversed from the modern format, with the violas on the outside and the solo violinist closest to the center. Those who performed sometimes stood as the others, including Mr. Christie, sat and observed.

The first half of the concert consisted of very early music, focusing on the period that heard the invention of the opera. The young people did a fine job in the madrigals, but seemed somewhat strained in the more dramatic operatic roles. Mr. Christie plans to bring a work featuring nine countertenors to Lincoln Center next season, and this night we heard one of these distinctively voiced creatures, the Pole Michal Czerniawski, in an emotive Lucidissima face from Cavalli’s Calisto.

But in the second half, when Mr. Christie awoke and conducted scenes and arias from the Baroque and Classical periods, the chinks in the cast’s armor became more noticeable. Claire Meghnagi, who was paired with Mr. Czerniawski for a duet from Handel’s Arminio, was all over the place, flatting regularly and becoming very shrill at the conclusion. Bulgarian soprano Sonya Yoncheva was much better, shaping her phrases deliciously in M’hai resa infelice from the same composer’s Deidamia,

American Laura Hynes Smith was sailing along impressively in Furia di donna irata from Piccinni’s — no, not Puccini’s — La buona figliuola when the higher register did her in unmercifully. Still, her high-energy version won the heartiest ovation from the sold-out house. Best of the lot was mezzo-soprano Amaya Dominguez, who, in a considered rendition of Vo’ far guerra from Handel’s Rinaldo, not only shaped a fully formed portrait of the rejected sorceress Armida, but wandered over to the harpsichord while Benoit Hartoin was playing his extended solo, and caressed the instrument in sensual, mad-scene style.

Spring gardens often appear a bit sparse. The real test is how they bloom in late summer.