Midori, the one-named violinist, is an exceptionally reliable performer: You can count on her to be well prepared, efficient, and tasteful. Some nights have greater musical impact than others — but Midori will never lay an egg on you. And she was largely satisfying in her recital at Avery Fisher Hall on Tuesday night, accompanied by her regular pianist, the excellent Robert McDonald.

They opened with Beethoven’s Sonata in F, Op. 24, known as the “Spring.” Nice timing, huh? And they took the first movement very, very fast — jarringly fast. This did not seem altogether reasonable. And Midori’s soft playing was curious: It was very, very soft. In fact, it was tiny, disembodied, barely audible. We must not attribute this to Avery Fisherness, either. In her soft playing, Midori could stand to be more substantial and singing. But elsewhere in Beethoven’s first movement, she played with incisive passion — with what they call in music “slancio.”

As for Mr. McDonald, he showed some exquisite, silken pianism, even if some passagework and turns were a bit blurry.

In the second movement (Adagio molto espressivo), Mr. McDonald sang nicely, and he managed to make the slow Alberti bass sound unmechanical. The violinist was poised, graceful, and logical — and these, of course, are Midori hallmarks.

From both performers, the Scherzo was snappy but sweet, just as Beethoven wants. But the closing Rondo was somewhat strange, especially where Mr. McDonald was concerned: The music was less horizontal, less legato, than it can be — than it should be, I would argue. The Rondo was missing some of its fluid grace. Also, the tempo was so fast, it was borderline rushed.

In addition, Midori was guilty of overaccentuation. And I wonder if she picked this up from the “period” movement — overaccentuation being one of their worst contributions.

After her Beethoven, Midori turned to a work that she herself commissioned two years ago: “Lost Landscapes” for Violin and Piano by Einojuhani Rautavaara (b. 1928), “the most successful Finnish composer since Sibelius.” I am quoting from Midori’s program notes, and, incidentally, she is an elegant writer of such notes.

“Lost Landscapes” consists of four movements, or landscapes, each depicting a place where Mr. Rautavaara lived during his “wanderer years” (his words). One of these places is W. 23rd St., right here in good ol’ New York. This music is nicely kinetic.

But “Lost Landscapes” as a whole is, to me, forgettable: pleasant enough to listen to, but leaving no impression. Nonetheless, I hope that, for Mr. Rautavaara, these landscapes, now that he has painted them in music, aren’t so lost anymore.

And Midori and Mr. McDonald played the work with sincerity, simplicity, and skill.

After intermission, it was two sonatas, both in E flat. The first was by Hindemith, and it is his Op. 11, No. 1. This sonata is incomplete, having only two movements — but what wonderful movements they are. In the first, Midori was clean and lyrical, a nice combination. She was logical, too — and a logical composer like Hindemith deserves a logical performer. Note also that, at the end of the first movement, Midori delivered some Hindemithian ferocity.

And to the second movement she gave appropriate mystery and poignancy. What a pity that so fine a sonata is incomplete.

That other E-flat sonata was by Strauss, his Op. 18. In the outer movements, Midori was oddly small-scale and unrhapsodic. Indeed, she was fairly intimate, which is an arguable approach. Unfortunately, her intonation lapsed, particularly when she was playing forte. But she did not fail outright: She is too smart and capable a musician for that.

Strauss’s middle movement carries an interesting marking: “Improvisation: Andante cantabile.” In this music, Midori was clean, clean, in her accustomed style. But phrasing might have been a bit more natural.

Maybe her best playing of the night came in her encores: Glazunov’s “Meditation” and Kreisler’s “Syncopation.” In the Glazunov, Midori was lovely, enchanting, and entirely natural. Also, she showed some spot-on intonation in her instrument’s highest region. And in the Kreisler, she was charming, suave — Kreislerian. That’s what the doctor orders.

And I would like to add a footnote: A flier in the program booklet informed us that Midori would meet people in the lobby after the concert. No, “The artist will sign only copies of her latest CD,” no restrictions or provisos at all. Just, “Midori will meet with audience members in the lobby near the box office.”

She is one of the most public-friendly and public-spirited of musicians. A great credit to her.