Sitting by the fountain on the Lincoln Center plaza one lovely summer Sunday afternoon, anticipating another in the series of that season’s Mostly Mozart events, a friend noted that the Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio was one of the very few groups of performers on whom one can always rely for an excellent concert experience. I mused on this for a while and discovered that I could only think of two orchestras and three or four solo performers who fall into this category (although there are considerably more who exhibit a remarkable consistency in giving bad performances). KLR has much more local than national or international fame and I am not sure why, considering their insightful and masterful readings of the classics which literally date back to the inauguration of Jimmy Carter. But those of us in the know consider this familial group a civic treasure.

They have been playing together for so long that they know each other’s moves to a degree that makes them seem like one focused player. The propinquity factor is strong in this ensemble (Mr. Laredo and Ms. Robinson are husband and wife) and it is remarkable to observe that these musicians even breathe together, even though they are not playing wind instruments. Their home base is the 92nd Street Y, and this week they presented a varied and interesting program.

Ethnomusicology is a slippery slope, but I distinctly heard more French elements in the Piano Trio no. 2 of Joaquin Turina than I detected Spanish idioms. The excellent program notes of David Wright identify the origin of this music as Seville, but echoes of the Basque country of Ravel were paramount in my ear – the A Minor Trio in particular. Add to this a decided Django Rheinhardt flavor – the work premiered in 1933 – and we all experienced a rare treat. Mr. Laredo is Bolivian and so has some ingrained affinities here, blending quite sensuously with Ms. Robinson’s zaftig cello tone to produce sounds of vibrant and quivering color. The Molto Vivace is an example of that rare combination of soft and fast. Mr. Laredo’s muted violin was eloquently nocturnal.

Unfortunately, Mr. Kalichstein had an off night and was not even the best pianist in the room, as Emanuel Ax was spotted in the audience. Uncharacteristically, Mr. Kalichstein fell victim to an unreasonable amount of fat-fingering, which took away from the superb string sound around him. These inaccuracies haunted him in the Beethoven Trio, Opus 1, no. 2 as well.

Having heard this particular piece earlier this month in the Beaux Arts version, a performance characterized in these pages as having “not a great deal of propulsive energy,” it was refreshing to hear such a lively and exuberant account. Where the trio at the museum stressed the classical grace of the fledgling composer, KLR dug deeply into his youthful enthusiasm and self-confident brio. The spirited Presto ran rings around the Beaux Arts rendition.

Also, there was a distinct difference of opinion above what the ideal sound should be. Daniel Hope offered a mannered but desiccated version, whereas Mr. Laredo opened the Largo con espressione with such a generous and song-like vibrato as to instantly convince that this more “romantic approach” was by far the superior. Would Bach have preferred the modern concert grand to the harpsichord? These arguments, hopefully, will rage forever. For me, the most “espressione” always wins out. And for any latecomers to the debate, the KLR Scherzo was icing on an exultant cake, the main theme as joyously toe-tapping as that of the finale of Schubert’s “Great” C Major.

Before being joined by Mr. Laredo, violinist Soovin Kim and violist Kirsten Johnson for a return to Schumann Piano Quintet, K & R presented the New York premiere of “El Andalus” by Katherine Hoover (strictly speaking, the premiere was Tuesday, while I attended the Wednesday performance). Purporting to be a fusion of Islamic and European elements in the wake of September 11, 2001, ethnomusicologically all of the snippets and phrases actually come from just one narrow region: Hollywood. The piece reads like a compendium of every cliche ever employed to suggest or represent things Iberian or even Latin American. It was condescendingly manipulative as well – now everybody be sad as the music swells! Ms. Hoover is hardly alone. Virtually every composer of the 19th, 20th, and 21st centuries has used these tired intervals to evoke the Spanish. Every composer, that is, except those actually from Spain. At least I can report that it was well played.