Those who think Bjork is the only competent musician ever to come out of Iceland might want to spend an hour or two with violinist Judith Ingolfsson, who performed in recital Wednesday evening at St. Bartholomew’s Church. This spectacular temple of the arts, a wonderful old building in the midst of the glass-and-steel boxes of Park Avenue in the East 50’s, is celebrating the centenary of the hiring of Leopold Stokowski as its music director with a rich and varied schedule of concerts and recitals, both spiritual and secular.

Beginning with the ubiquitous Mozart sonatas for violin and piano from the Mannheim-to-Paris days, Ms. Ingolfsson dispelled any doubt as to her 18th-century approach. Her tone was confident and sparkling in the K. 301, and she delivered the piece with considerable enthusiasm and panache, if not a great deal of heft – a flute of champagne rather than a snifter of brandy. The playful lightness was probably pretty far from the sounds of the day, but period-instrument practice be damned – well, darned, since this was in a church.

Also pleasing was the pianism of Ronald Sat, an actual accompanist. Having recently heard both Orli Shaham and Mitsuko Uchida in these keyboard-dominated pieces, it was delightful to think of the piano as an equal partner of the fiddle rather than a pugnacious rival. Violin and piano – what a concept – actually seemed to complement one another.

Mr. Sat did not emerge for the second piece. Giuseppe Tartini’s “The Devil’s Trill” was apparently suggested to the Baroque scribbler in a dream, although the idea that it was a musical duel between him and Old Nick is actually a 20th-century embellishment. Ms. Ingolfsson explained that the composer had developed a basso continuo for the work but also wrote that ideally the violin should perform solo, intertwining the harmonic structure ad libitum. Ms. Ingolfsson discussed and then demonstrated the lesson she learned from Fritz Kreisler, not, as one might think, to ornament with fin-de-siecle sentimentalism, but rather to embroider in her own voice.

The resulting performance revealed flashes of brilliance. The additional material was often uncompromisingly contemporary and somewhat discordant, but this only reinforced the satanic nature of the piece. The dexterity demonstrated by the soloist in the more rapid movements was highly accurate and suitably impressive. Both slow sections, the opening Andante and the closing Adagio, revealed such beauty as to remind that the original source of inspiration was indeed a fallen angel.

The evening ended with a rather lengthy and emotionally devoid work by Igor Stravinsky. “Divertimento for Violin and Piano” is an expurgation of ballet music by Tchaikovsky that itself was later reborn as a Balanchine dance piece. Perhaps we needed the kinetic energy of the more gymnastic performers, because as recital fare this was hardly compelling. More than one patron exited mid-course, though it was certainly not the fault of the recitalists, who matched each other stroke for stroke and complex rhythm for syncopated step. I would have wished for a little bit of humanity somewhere in the score, but have resigned myself to the fact that there are people out there – and Ms. Ingolfsson is apparently one of them – who appreciate this chilly, formalistic music.

Among those appreciating it on this night were many young people, who made up the bulk of the audience. Once again, this put the lie to the idee fixe of New York critics that only gimmicky evenings of contemporary music will attract the new generation. As institutions like Carnegie Hall slowly succumb to the twin plagues of pop and crossover, it may once again be the churches that preserve the great artistic traditions for a more enlightened listening public. Here in New York we are blessed with several of them – Trinity, St. John’s, Riverside, St. Ignatius Loyola, and St. Bart’s to name but a few – that are already fostering and nurturing the best this town has to offer.