On Tuesday night, the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center concluded its 2004-05 season most unusually: with an evening of Lalo Schifrin. Who’s Lalo Schifrin? Ah, I’m glad you asked.

He is an Argentinean composer of remarkable breadth. He was born in Buenos Aires (1932), the son of the concertmaster of the Teatro Colon orchestra. At 18, he won a scholarship to the Paris Conservatory, where he took courses with Messiaen, among others. Then he worked as an arranger for Xavier Cugat, the Spanish-Cuban bandleader, and for Dizzy Gillespie (he was also Dizzy’s pianist). For decades, he would write film scores and TV themes, including the one from “Mission: Impossible.” (You can hear it now, can’t you?)

His classical compositions tend to be hybrids, as you can tell from a title or two: “Gillespiana,” “Jazz Faust.”(Those two are ballets.) Recent commissions include a “Fantasy for Screenplay and Orchestra,” for Daniel Barenboim and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. (Mr. Barenboim is another Buenos Aires boy, recall.)

For its part, the Chamber Music Society co-commissioned a work that turned out to be the evening-long “Letters from Argentina.” As Mr. Schifrin wrote in program notes, these are “musical memories enhanced by my imagination and converted into impressions of my homeland.” The prime mover in this commission seems to have been David Shifrin, the clarinetist and former artistic director of CMS. Any relation, between Lalo Schifrin and David Shifrin, despite the divergent spellings? Sure: “Lalo’s father and my grandfather were cousins in Russia a century ago,” wrote David Shifrin, in his own program note. And “I have been in awe of Lalo Schifrin as a person and musician for many, many years.”

Mr. Shifrin – David Shifrin – was in the band for “Letters from Argentina.” Other band members were Cho-Liang “Jimmy” Lin, the violinist; Pablo Aslan, a double bassist; Satoshi Takeishi, percussionist; and Nestor Marconi, player of the bandoneon. Mr. Schifrin himself – Lalo Schifrin – played the piano, and provided the talk, between each piece.

What is the bandoneon, you ask? Not an accordion, Mr. Schifrin quickly said. (It looks like one.) This is an instrument, the composer explained, invented in Germany, during the Renaissance, and it served as a “portable organ.” For some reason, it became “the most important instrument in Buenos Aires.” I don’t care if the word “accordion” offends, it’s still a squeezebox, of some type – and a most effective squeezebox.

The evening consisted of about a dozen pieces, starting with a tango – “Tango del Atardecer” – which was driving and infectious. In it was a hint of “My Way” (I swear). Mr. Lin took to this music like a duck to water: All evening long, he was natural, convincing, pleasing. David Shifrin seemed to be enjoying himself, and also to be somewhat amused. Mr. Aslan, the double bassist, slapped, stroked, and plucked his instrument attractively. Mr. Takeishi was imaginative and reliable on his drums. And if there’s a better bandoneon player than Nestor Marconi, I’ve never met him.

As for Mr. Schifrin’s pieces, they reflected his eclectic life, being mixtures of the Latin, the jazzy, the classical, the Hollywood. There must not be another composer quite like him. Some of his pieces did go on, but I was reminded of the nature of cafe society: We have all the time in the world; just sit back, relax, and enjoy. You’re not supposed to rush back out into the night.

In one piece – “Resonancias” – Mr. Schifrin strummed the inside of the piano, always a neat trick. (Often a neat trick.) In another piece – “Danza de los Montes” – he drew from the Incas, and their music (“pentatonic,” “very advanced”). And Mr. Schifrin was generous, allowing other composers – and arrangers – the stage. Mr. Marconi and Mr. Aslan played a couple of pieces by Astor Piazzolla, “adapted” by Mr. Marconi. The first expressed a gay melancholy, to use a necessary oxymoron; the second was all slinky coyness. Then Mr. Schifrin presented his own adaptation of a Piazzolla piece, “La Muerte del Angel.” This was a rouser, with David Shifrin showing off serious articulation on his clarinet. Afterward, we had another adaptation, this one of a dance by Alberto Ginastera. Mr. Schifrin’s “Letter” bag was full, and heartfelt, and welcome.

Classical music likes its adventures in Latin America. Yo-Yo Ma makes Brazilian albums, and so does Mr. Barenboim. The music of Piazzolla is almost a staple. And then there is Lalo Schifrin. One can appreciate his efforts in the concert hall – but imagine having written the theme to “Mission: Impossible”!