Few things in life are as satisfying as a great piece of music well played — or well sung. And, on Friday night at Weill Recital Hall Schubert’s song-cycle “Die schöne Müllerin” was both: both well played and well sung. The performers were Christian Gerhaher, baritone, and Gerold Huber, piano. Both are from Germany. And they have worked together for a long time, practicing, studying, concertizing, recording. Some weeks ago in these pages, I reviewed their new CD of assorted Schubert lieder (on RCA Red Seal). It is an impressive and instructive disc.

A performance has to be heard, of course, but I will do my job and offer some thoughts about these men. Mr. Gerhaher was robust, human — not sweety-sweet or arty. And yet he was thoroughly artistic. Throughout the cycle, he was unfussy but not unnuanced. He was an engrossing storyteller — but he did not forget that his primary task was to sing. Even when conversational, he wasn’t talking, or half-singing — he was singing. And his diction was very, very clear: clear but not annoyingly meticulous (which can happen).

The 20 songs had the right spirit, and shades of spirit. Mr. Gerhaher was thinking along with the songs, as he must; but he wasn’t overthinking them, or intellectualizing. This is lieder-singing. He was fearless — as in the quite exposed song “Der Neugierige” — and he had reason to be: He has a sure technique and assurance of mind. I might also say that Mr. Gerhaher has great rhythm — and this is an undervalued trait in a singer: rhythm. I don’t know why. It is as important that they have it as that other musicians do.

A few words about some specific songs: “Mein!” was exuberant, as it must be, but also a little disturbed – which was interesting. It was not pretty, but it was arresting. “Die böse Farbe,” Mr. Gerhaher spat out, but the song was still elegant. This is what I mean about him: He is characterful, but he doesn’t forget he is singing. The final songs were not disembodied (as some singers make them, in a false attempt at drama or profundity) — and they hit the emotional mark.

In the course of this cycle, some of Mr. Gerhaher’s notes were flat, and toward the middle — at “Tränenregen” — he seemed to tire a little, vocally. But he rebounded. And he was never tired mentally. Mr. Huber is a well-tutored, aware, and convincing pianist. His playing was meaty and crunchy, rather than silken and ethereal. He was bold, like his singer, not preciously glassy. At the same time, he showed a superb sense of the musical line — nothing was out of order; wrong accents were absent. Like the baritone, Mr. Huber paid great attention to detail, but he didn’t fuss over anything. Everything was natural, right-seeming. This pianist was completely authoritative.

In fact, he was so authoritative, when he did something I found strange — socking the repeated G in the final song — I figured he had good reason.

It almost goes without saying that Messrs. Gerhaher and Huber were integrated, as one. Were they ever apart? Yes, in the speedy song “der Jäger,” for about two seconds. But this only proved that the performance was live, not a studio product.

In their traversing of “die schöne Müllerin,” they were learned, musical, and adept. You can’t ask for much more. And, about this song-cycle, let me say this: It is worth being a singer just to sing it. And, for the pianist, playing it isn’t bad either.