Those who have heard the recording that Maurice Ravel made at the piano of his “Pavane pour une infante defunte” — pavane for a dead princess — know that almost every modern orchestra performs it incorrectly. Virtually all conductors now emphasize an exaggeratedly fluid line that produces a certain treacly quality, the royal personage in question out of the Disney stable. But the composer heard it differently, and it was delightful on Tuesday evening at Avery Fisher Hall to hear a fellow Frenchman, Louis Langree, conduct the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra in a stately and measured dance, its formalized rhythms dignified and noble, its articulation aristocratic. For once, we could sense the ghost of the main character finally having her turn across the floor.

Mozart being a bit of an odd man out at this season’s festivities, it is important to cherish those performances that feature his work. This night pianist Marc-Andre Hamelin joined the festival orchestra for a reading of the G major Piano Concerto, No. 17.

Although it is not true that Wolfgang copied the main theme of the last movement from a bird, it is apparently the case that he did purchase a caged starling sometime after writing this concerto because its song was so close to that of his own charming tune, part of the urtext for the music of Pappageno. Both maestro and soloist nodded to this playfully charming side.

Mr. Hamelin is one of the most refreshing keyboard artists practicing today, confident enough to completely resist the temptation to play loudly. His realization hovered eloquently just above a whisper, his touch delicate but strong. Opting to jettison Mozart’s original cadenza, he replaced it with his own, moving its location from the first movement Allegro to the quite unusual conclusion of the Andante. This contemplative, improvisatory passage was a meditation of variations on the movement’s theme. The orchestra matched their guest stroke for stroke in quiet and balanced grace. This effort was far the superior to their rather underweight forays into Beethoven last week.

One of the many non-Mozartean initiatives of this festival is showcasing what Lincoln Center has chosen to label “spiritual” music. Of course, what they really mean is “religious,” but that word is all but banned on the Upper West Side of New York these days. Mr. Langree led a powerful and distinctive performance of the Requiem of Gabriel Fauré.

The Swedish Radio Choir was on hand to do most of the heavy lifting. Prepared by Kaspars Putnins, the group of about 30 singers often sounded like 200. Fauré commenced his work after the death of his father and there is a certain Freudian parallel to that of Mozart’s own Requiem — Lincoln Center management can use whatever assistance they can muster in establishing some relevance to Wolfgang — that emerges strongly in the more masculine passages like the Dies Irae.

Dietrich Henschel was the competent baritone soloist, perhaps personifying the father in the Libera me, but stylistically he was in the wrong house. Operatic in his approach, his rallentandos would have been perfect for a work such as Rossini’s Stabat Mater, but here he was a little over the top. Soprano Sophie Karthaeuser, on the other hand, was superb, producing a disciplined and intense solo that was the highlight of the evening. Krista Bennion Feeney, concertmistress of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s in the winter, intoned the violin obbligato in the Sanctus angelically.