Sometimes, a critic chooses a concert strictly on the merits of the program. On Tuesday evening at the Weill Recital Hall, pianist John Kamitsuka offered a very challenging and satisfying bill of fare that included Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, and Schubert. It simply doesn’t get any better than this.

Mr. Kamitsuka has many impressive lines on his curriculum vitae, but perhaps none more memorable than being an official cultural ambassador for the American government on a tour of Brazil. This evening, he gave a noble and interesting recital, sometimes short on precision but always long on heart.

He began with his strength. Mr. Kamitsuka is somewhat of a Bach specialist and proved from the outset his mastery of this mathematical music. His playing is lapidary, making a strong case for a modern instrument without the haunting echoes of filigreed overtones. He is not an exponent of the modern school of Bach playing that exploits the decibel power of the piano; rather he chisels away with the secure knowledge that each individual note will be well-defined and segregated from its mates.

This steady rhythmic lockstep was immediately ear-catching in the A Flat Major from the “Well-Tempered Clavier,” Book One. Varying his content just a bit, he wisely chose as his yang to that yin the more hesitant F Minor, a piece that can sound botched in less confident hands, as the music contains some natural fits and starts. There was no sense of inauthenticity with Mr. Kamitsuka, though. Rather we felt in the presence of a great communicator.

A thoughtful traversal of the penultimate Beethoven piano sonata — the Opus 110 — was followed by what had to be the best performance of the evening, two of the valedictory pieces of Johannes Brahms. Mr. Kamitsuka eschewed the more famous of these delightful, reflective miniatures, opting instead for two from Opus 119, the last grouping written by the avuncular composer in a magnanimous, slightly melancholy, mood. It was, in fact, this set that prompted Arnold Schoenberg to write his counterintuitive essay “Brahms the Progressive,” putting the lie to the notion that the man was simply a fuddy-duddy not in tune with Wagner’s “music of the future.” Especially in the E Minor, Mr. Kamitsuka captured the unusual rhythms and complex harmonic overlay expertly.

The “Wanderer Fantasy” of Franz Schubert is so difficult that the composer famously stopped in the middle at one performance, exclaiming as he left the stage “let the devil play it!” Mr. Kamitsuka’s realization, although intelligently shaped and powerfully emoted, suffered from a number of poor landings, centering on the famous theme taken from Schubert’s song of the same peripatetic name.

This motto is unmistakable and forms the building blocks for the entire piece. Intoned forte, it is inescapable and reoccurs numerous times, sometimes as a theme to be variegated, sometimes as a refrain, and at least once as a fugal subject. Mr. Kamitsuka’s fudging of it was thus especially disappointing. He was, oddly, virtually flawless for several minutes in the exposition section when the theme does not dominate, only to slip a bit once the music turned tuneful once again. Still, his vigor and strong sense of architecture carried the day. I have heard many performances of this piece that were decidedly more accurate and considerably less musical.

This was the last concert of the season. Summer will bring its own languid blend of music making, but already it is time to focus on 2007–2008. Who will take over at the Philharmonic? What effect will Gerard Mortier’s appointment have on the opera scene two years prior to his arrival? How will we cope without Alice Tully? Stay tuned.