It would be natural to assume that the pianist for the world premiere of the Piano Quintet in E flat major of Robert Schumann was his wife Clara, and she indeed was at the keyboard for the first public performance at the Gewandhaus. But the work was actually debuted at the private home of Leipzig merchant Karl Voigt. On that glorious evening, the part was played by Felix Mendelssohn.

Mendelssohn and Schumann shared many important musical experiences, including the discovery, preparation, and inauguration of Schubert’s “Great” C Major Symphony. Schumann even taught briefly at his friend’s new conservatory during the same year – 1843 – when the quintet in question was published. It was therefore altogether right and proper for the Emerson String Quartet to invite Garrick Ohlsson to Zankel Hall to join them in performance of this mighty work as an accompaniment to their series featuring the now rather neglected quartets of Mendelssohn.

Joe DiMaggio used to say that a rich man’s son could never be a star. This wisdom applies to Mendelssohn as well. Although he was undoubtedly blessed with exceptional melodic inspiration and educated properly to allow that natural gift to develop, his wealth and facility in society dictated his ultimate dilettantism. Everything he touched turned to gold but, like Midas, he paid a significant penalty.

Looking over the oeuvre as a whole, there are many works that are emptily pretty, passing fancies of fashionable moods. The two piano concerti, for example, have tried for almost two centuries to establish themselves as worthy of inclusion in the standard repertoire, but always – despite being championed by significant pianists – come up short. Much of the chamber music falls into this near-miss category.

I have never been a devotee of the Emerson String Quartet. These four men, all obviously sincere players, do not possess a very good tone, either individually or collectively, and I have followed with interest lately the articles about them by well-respected critical colleagues that express surprise that their concerts of late have been uninteresting and – at least according to these learned gentlemen – uncharacteristically sloppy.

In their defense, the group is one of the most expertly blended on the current quartet scene. No one instrument dominates; these chums definitely play as a unit. Ironically, the finished product is stale and decidedly not beautiful. The thematic material of these early Mendelssohnian works is weak enough without such a lackluster ensemble taking up its cause.

Tuesday evening proved to be, for me, a typically unsatisfying performance. The Emersonians – except for cellist David Finckel – stand now while playing. I am not sure what the reasoning is here, but the unusual platform positioning did little to enliven a pedestrian and mind-numbingly declarative reading of the Quartet in D Major. Mr. Ohlsson joining them for the resurrected piece of juvenilia known as the Sextet, Op. 110, did soften the mood quite a bit.

First, they all sat down. Then they followed this masterful pianist’s lead and lightened their touch significantly. Unfortunately, the composer probably should have followed his initial instincts and kept the work locked in a drawer.

The really poor performance of the night was of the Schumann. The entire rendition suffered from too rushed a tempo, a phenomenon manifestly displayed in the Allegro brillante, when Mr. Finckel and violist Lawrence Dutton struggled to even intone all of the notes of the normally infectious melody that they introduce consecutively. Almost immediately, this seemed like a run-through of the piece for technical purposes, rather than a presentation of attempted artistic communication geared toward an audience.

The second movement exposed some of that signature Emerson dryness of tone, especially evident in the viola solos. The Scherzo was (I can think of no more appropriate word) ridiculously fast, precluding any intelligent or delicate shaping of phrases. First violinist Eugene Drucker played a half step below his line for several measures. And, as far as I know, there is no scordatura section in the Schumann Piano Quintet.

This rather discouraging music making occurred in the bowels of Zankel Hall. In the film “Brewster’s Millions,” Richard Pryor and John Candy are minor-league baseball players whose home park is so poor that the railroad tracks run right through center field. Mr. Pryor, the pitcher, has to stop every once in a while to allow the train to pass through. For some reason, I thought at least as much about him last evening as I did about Mendelssohn.

The Emerson Quartet has a splendid reputation, but I have the self-reliance to inform you that this particular experience was anything but transcendental.

The Emerson Quartet will perform at Zankel Hall again March 22, April 5 & 19 at 7:30 p.m. (Carnegie Hall, 212-247-7800).