On Sunday afternoon, pianist Garrick Ohlsson offered the third of his three all-Beethoven recitals this season, but with a difference. While the first two programs occurred within the friendly confines of Alice Tully Hall, this final effort took place in the much more challenging Avery Fisher. Mr. Ohlsson saved his best performance for his biggest crowd.

Extracting a good sound from a solo instrument is tricky in this vast, unforgiving auditorium, but Mr. Ohlsson was up to the task, ratcheting up his volume from that of his previous concerts without sacrificing nimbleness of touch or good taste. Opening with the E flat major Sonata, Op. 7, he established immediately an air of confidence and command.

As he nailed the opening Allegro molto e con brio, Mr. Ohlsson served notice that this was to be an extremely accurate performance. In fact, I did not detect even one wrong note in the entire first half of the program. Especially impressive were his measured and detailed unveiling of the unhurried Largo con gran espressione — a performance that laid bare the master architect’s plan — and a sprightly third movement Allegro that was notable for playful rhythm.

The Op. 101 in A major is one of the problem sonatas and is often avoided by savvy practitioners who find it too episodic for public taste. Mr. Ohlsson, however, rather reveled in its stops and starts, its peripetias of emotion, its mercurial changes of mood. At intermission, he had this audience in the palm of his huge hand.

And then he took out the big guns. Mr. Ohlsson used the Waldstein Sonata to showcase his prodigious digital strength and sophisticated technical abilities. Taking the signature Allegro con brio at a slightly faster than normal tempo, he dazzled with right hand crispness and clarity. There were a couple of botched landings and a very occasional misstep in the left hand buildups, but nothing that truly detracted from the overall result.

The final Rondo was superb, lovely and steely by turns. The famous theme, one of Beethoven’s best, was intoned just a little bit louder each time, creating tremendous tension before the orgiastic Prestissimo ending. The sheer technical demands of this movement are frightfully daunting, but Mr. Ohlsson made it all look so easy.

The “Moonlight” Sonata — in C sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2 — has an opening so familiar and poetic that it is often in danger of sounding clichéd. Mr. Ohlsson dealt with this potential problem head-on by slightly altering the phrasing of the melody, making it just a little more declarative and rhythmically equidistant. By keeping the development metronomic, he made a strong case for the musical logic of the piece without injuring the poesy, which, by this time in the work’s performance history, is locked securely in our collective inner ears. This was a masterful rendition that led to an enchanted Allegretto almost Mendelssohnian in character and a heartpounding Presto agitato, replete with powerful accents and iron discipline. As a whole, this was simply the best piano playing of the season.

Mr. Ohlsson followed with the only appropriate encore, the “other” moonlight, Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” After performing a program decidedly on the louder side, he forced the audience to listen intently as he began this piece with a sigh that increased only to a whisper. After a few measures, the crowd was rapt, transformed by such lyrical delicacy. Again Mr. Ohlsson was precise rhythmically, even at this much slower tempo, but did indulge in one delicious bit of rubato before that one famous grounding note that allows the rest of the piece to soar so mysteriously. This athletic artist, who is wont to stay out there and perform several finger-breaking encores, let Debussy have the last word. And the crowd, which didn’t stir until the very last overtones had died away, proved cooperative. The audience, it seemed, did not want its applause to disturb this perfect ending to an almost perfect day.