Jane Moss, the artistic director of the Mostly Mozart Festival, had a bright idea: the late-night, one-hour concert. These are 10:30 affairs, held at the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse, yet another space in Lincoln Center.

The name of these concerts? “A Little Night Music,” of course.

And, sitting there amid the twinkling lights, you feel quite urban. Even the square can fancy themselves night prowlers. Also, these concerts afford a rare closeness to the performers — a physical proximity. Which can be nice (or not).

Doing the performing on Wednesday night were Christiane Oelze, a German soprano, and the Daedalus Quartet, a young ensemble (founded in 2000) composed of young players. Soprano and quartet did not perform together. This was something of a variety show, and no worse for that.

The Daedalus Quartet — or rather, three of its members — began the concert with Mahler’s Piano Quartet in A minor. They were joined by Ken Noda, a veteran Met hand. (He is musical assistant to James Levine at the Metropolitan Opera.) Mahler wrote his quartet when he was a student, about 16 years old. All that has come down to us is one movement.

What a pity that Mahler didn’t write more chamber music, and more, period. But we have those nine symphonies, plus some other works.

From the Daedalus players plus Mr. Noda, the Mahler was swelling and impassioned — yet always tasteful. The musicians blended and breathed beautifully. The cellist suffered a touch of sharpness, but otherwise there was scarcely an error.

And I might mention something about Kyu-Young Kim, the violinist. He is a player who is very demonstrative, physically. And usually that is a bad sign. But Mr. Kim is an exception.

The concert continued with Webern’s “Langsamer Satz,” or “Slow Movement” — and this time the Daedalus was at full strength, for all four players are needed. In this delicious Webern piece, the group was poised, alert, and nearly transcendent. The music built just as it should.

I’ll say what I’ve said before about the Daedalus — after the “Langsamer Satz,” as it happens: They remind us that, while age and experience are something, they are not everything. Take Hilary Hahn, the violinist: Still in her 20s, she was great years ago.

After the Webern, the Daedalus played Schubert’s “Quartettsatz” (“Quartet Movement”) — and you see the pattern. These were three one-movement works.

The “Quartettsatz” can sometimes resemble a violin concerto; Schubert gave the first violinist plenty to do. Jesse Mills was in this chair, and he had a little trouble: Some sounds were not especially sweet, and some intonation was iffy. But he acquitted himself well, and so did his mates.

One should apply very high standards to this group.

Finally it was time for Ms. Oelze to take the stage. With Mr. Noda, she performed “Sieben frühe Lieder,” or “Seven Early Songs,” by Berg. Time was, these were rarities. The singer who sang them was sort of daring. These days, they are as ubiquitous as “Gretchen am Spinnrade” — maybe more so.

Ms. Oelze sang the songs intelligently and, for the most part, matter-of-factly. She did not display great beauty of voice, but there are other considerations. And her relative spareness worked well, particularly in a small room. Now and then, you could have asked for more fullness and rapture. But Ms. Oelze provided a dose of rapture in the final song, “Sommertage.”

And here is a detail: In the third song, “Die Nachtigall,” she included a touch of wispiness, which was very effective.

Mr. Noda was a perfectly able partner. His boss, Mr. Levine, is maybe the world’s leading Berg-oholic, and he would have been pleased. I will relate one funny fact about Mr. Noda: At the piano, he appears very, very tight. And yet his playing does not come out that way. This is an aural art, music.

Ms. Oelze and Mr. Noda gave us two encores — the first, an Ives song in German (yes). You could hear traces of “Goin’ Home” and “To a Wild Rose,” if you wanted.

The second encore was an immortal Schubert: “Du bist die Ruh.” Ms. Oelze’s sound was a little harsh and steely for this song. Some softness, some bend, would have helped. Still, the song hit its mark. Mr. Noda accompanied exquisitely.

And, as a colleague of mine remarked after, it’s a wonder anyone bothered to write songs, after Schubert.

In all, this entire concert — from everyone concerned — was marked by tastefulness. Even without the complimentary drinks, the audience would have gotten its money’s worth.