If a performer begins and ends well, few will remember what he or she did in the middle. Unfortunately, the opposite also holds true. At the International Keyboard Institute and Festival on Thursday at Mannes College, the fine pianism of Sara Daneshpour more than compensated for a hesitant start and a timid conclusion.

Ms. Daneshpour is a graduate of the Curtis Institute, where she studied with Leon Fleisher. She continues her studies at present with Oleg Volkov. She chose an aggressive program and, in the main, delivered it with impressive musicianship.

Perhaps butterflies in her stomach simply broke loose and settled in her fingers, but the opening, normally steady rhythmic lines of Scarlatti’s Sonata in B minor, K. 27, were noticeably uneven, notes of equal temporal value intoned at various off-the-beat moments. Without its steady grounding, the piece went off the rails rather badly, and after this short curtain raiser I wondered if we were all in for a long night. But Ms. Daneshpour recovered immediately, spinning a diaphanous web for the lovely D Minor Sonata, K. 32, and redeeming her sense of metronomic control with the underpinnings of the A Major, K. 212.

She did a very good interpretive job in the B-flat minor Sonata of Chopin, demonstrating a solid sense of its architecture and tackling its technical demands with ease. This artist handled the quicksilver moods quite poetically, especially in the Scherzo. The famous funeral march was a little fast for my taste, sounding almost jaunty in spots, but the intersecting material was stretched with just the right amount of rubato. And that bizarre Finale: Presto, one of the oddest movements in the entire literature, radiated just the right amount of mania and dramatic impact.

By far the best performance of the evening came in the second half, as Ms. Daneshpour struck deep into the poetic fabric of the difficult Variations on a Theme of Corelli by Sergei Rachmaninoff. Among other technical achievements, she proved that she could project quite loudly without any sense of pounding or lack of taste. This is a big-handed piece, and this pianist was able to navigate its Herculean jumps smoothly and with a good deal of frisson. This realization was of professional quality.

It might not have been such a good idea, however, to follow the Rachmaninoff with the Sonata No. 7 of Prokofiev. Even a superb realization might have fallen flat, since the work is so similar in style and effect to the previous piece. Again, Ms. Daneshpour used her large perspective kaleidoscopically, relating the gigantic thoughts of the composer in a confident and clear manner. Contrast of mood is important here, and, at least for the first two movements, this was a satisfying version.

But the last movement, the notorious Precipitato, was approached in much too gingerly a manner. Prokofiev wrote this conclusion for himself, so that his own piano recitals could end uproariously. There are a tremendous number of notes per square inch and a three-toned, constantly repeated figure that grabs one by the throat and never lets go. Ms. Daneshpour, however, never established the requisite relentlessness, what one might call the Scythian quality of this monster from the steppes, and the program as a whole ended more with a whimper than a bang. This was disappointing, because it was clear that she possesses both the dexterity and the soul to champion such a wild, atavistic piece.

On the whole, there was tremendous potential displayed this evening and the promise that, with a lot of hard work, Sara Daneshpour might actually carve out a rewarding career for herself.

Steven Beck is in the midst of his own piano festival, presenting the 32 sonatas of Beethoven at Bargemusic. I stopped in on Saturday night to hear how he is progressing.

Mr. Beck offered four programs this week detailing half of this extraordinary output. He will present the other 16 programs in September. He explained to the overflowing crowd that he was not playing the 32 in chronological order, rather attempting to create interesting and balanced programs each evening. At least on this night, however, he did unfold the four sonatas du soir in their proper historical sequence.

Even to dare to explore this mighty literature, a pianist must have overwhelming confidence, and Mr. Beck displayed this courageous quality from the outset of the C Major Sonata, the No. 3. This is indeed the first truly great work of Beethoven, including an opening movement that begins its development instantly and a fully mature Adagio worthy of the most profound of Mozart. Mr. Beck did a fine job of nurturing Classical balance while still allowing the proto-Romantic phrases a chance to breathe.

He sensitively brought out the mystery of that Adagio, lingering just a tad now and then to emphasize the broadness of the lyrical passages. Of special mention is his touch, a strong, almost steely attack accompanied by a communicative, unhurried decay. This early sonata has a certain playful quality, and Mr. Beck projected the humor and humanity of the composer in a heartwarming manner.

The two companion pieces of Opus 14 bookended intermission. The E Major was pure joy served with that special Beethovenian flavor of the outdoorsman, a bit boorish at times but always jocular. Mr. Beck is not afraid to expose this music to its bare core and maintains an honest, unornamented approach to his phrasing. The G Major was lovely, if sometimes a bit driven, a very brisk walk through the woodlands that evokes the pianistic flights of fancy of Robert Schumann to come. Mr. Beck’s clear, declarative style was much appreciated here. Too often this fantasy piece is presented in a dreamy context that incorrectly imposes later mid-19th-century sensibilities on what was, for Beethoven, a strictly structured idyll. Up to this point, this was a wonderful recital.

An artist of the caliber of Mr. Beck has often played the “Appassionata” much better than he was able to conjure this night. Although there were passages of impressive technical problem solving, in particular some of his dexterous cross-handed work, overall this was an effort that never achieved its goal. Playing four programs of such difficult challenges in the same weekend — by contrast, András Schiff is currently exploring the same 32 over a three-year period — is bound to insure that one or another will come a cropper. Nothing gelled in this performance, arpeggiated material was ragged, landings were equivocal, fingers moved but no sound emerged. Mr. Beck even attempted to correct one phrase by repeating it instantaneously, causing a major pileup on his intonation superhighway. Much of the drama was still present, particularly in the left hand at the conclusion of the Allegro assai, but the real value of this performance will be as a learning experience. I would love to hear Mr. Beck play this piece again after the dust has settled.

One last thought: You could not have squeezed another warm body onto that barge for this recital. Could it be that the public is really hungry not for the contemporary, but for Beethoven?