We have known some good French musicians with Italian names: Zino Francescatti, Aldo Ciccolini. And Wednesday night, as Mannes College’s piano festival continued, we heard another such musician. That was Philippe Bianconi. He played a recital of beloved and excellent music: Brahms and Schumann on the first half; Debussy and Ravel on the second.

Mr. Bianconi opened with Brahms’ s Two Rhapsodies, Op. 79. He immediately proved himself a bold, liberal-minded pianist, with plenty of bravura. He produced some beautiful sounds, too — rounded, resonant ones. Mr. Bianconi is obviously confident in his ideas, his technique, and himself. And when a pianist — or any other musician — has confidence, you tend to have confidence in him, too.

But there were problems in these Rhapsodies. In the first (B minor), Mr. Bianconi could have done with a steadier tempo — with less pulling and pushing, or starting and stopping. The piece should have had more of a backbone. Its B-major section was a little overpedaled — slightly muddy — but still lovely.And Mr. Bianconi demonstrated that he knew the arc of the piece, treating climaxes as climaxes. You don’t get that with every pianist.

As for the second Rhapsody (G minor), it was both rushed and loose. The piece relies for some of its power on a firm, unrelenting tempo.What’s more, it was badly overpedaled and muddy. But I will say this for Mr. Bianconi: He cut off the last chord, not letting it linger. That was exactly right, and, again — you don’t get that from everybody.

Mr. Bianconi’s Schumann piece was “Carnaval,” that wonderful, and wonderfully imaginative, ride. Mr. Bianconi attacked the work with abandon — fine. But too much of his playing, starting with the Préambule, was overly heavy and loud. All of “Carnaval” could have used more nuance, subtlety, and variation. Take Pierrot and Arlequin (two sections of the piece): Couldn’t they have had some charm? And why was Coquette so thumping and labored? That’s no way to flirt.

There was some good playing, to be sure. For example, the Valse noble had tremendous heart, being noble indeed. But, in general, Mr. Bianconi was strangely crude.The last section — that astonishing march — was noisy, overpedaled, banging.This is very exciting music, but if you play it like that, you rob it of its excitement.

Let me now indulge in an aside: Often, as Mr. Bianconi played, you heard fingernails on the keyboard. That is to be avoided, if at all possible. Sometimes you even hear them on recordings — as I did on a Murray Perahia CD the other day. On recordings, given all the technological trickery available, that is really inexcusable!

After intermission, Mr. Bianconi played four Préludes from Debussy’s Book II and “Le Tombeau de Couperin” by Ravel. Nothing on the first half of the recital prepared the listener — prepared me — for how good this second half was. Mr. Bianconi’s playing was an Impressionistic delight, first-rate.

Present were the sensitivity, deftness, and savoir-faire that were missing in “Carnaval.” And Mr. Bianconi showed a great nimbleness of fingers, plus a palette of colors. In “Le Tombeau de Couperin,” the Fugue was a little heavy, and the Forlane was a little plodding. But Mr. Bianconi truly distinguished himself, putting on a kind of clinic. Every measure held interest, and even if you couldn’t endorse what he was doing, you respected his case.

The crowd at the Mannes festival is always very, very appreciative. And Mr. Bianconi favored them with three encores. The first brought more Debussy: “Poissons d’or” (“Goldfish”), which was duly shimmering, wriggly, and fun.The second was a piece by Erwin Schulhoff. Mr. Bianconi has a standing interest in this composer, a Czech Jew who was born in 1894 and died in a concentration camp. Mr. Bianconi played a jazzy number, written in the Teens. He brought it off with real panache.

Schulhoff is fortunate to have this champion.

Finally, Mr. Bianconi played a Posthumous Variation from Schumann’s Symphonic Etudes. This was a very, very good idea for an encore. But Mr. Bianconi rendered it in too studied and careful a fashion. He might have simply let it drip in its lovely way. But Mr. Bianconi, particularly from about 9:20 to 10 p.m., had provided ample satisfaction.