The Norwegian Chamber Orchestra played in Carnegie Hall on Wednesday night. How in the world did this humble Scandinavian ensemble land in Carnegie Hall? Well, they had with them a superstar soloist: the Norwegian pianist Leif Ove Andsnes. That’ll sell out Carnegie Hall, or at least come close.

Mr. Andsnes played twice, at the beginning and at the end.If you wanted to hear him that second time, you had to listen to the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra play three works Andsnes-less. And that was no great burden.

Mr. Andsnes began with Haydn’s Gmajor piano concerto, not as well known as the D-major piano concerto, and therefore all the more welcome. Unsurprisingly, Haydn fills his concerto with wit, loveliness, and delight. Mr. Andsnes did not always reflect these qualities. His opening measures were fairly heavy and blurred, which was unusual from this incisive pianist. Largely missing from the first movement was Haydn’s playfulness, his impishness – this was not the Haydn of a Jean-Yves Thibaudet or an Andras Schiff. Mr. Andsnes was more strait-laced, Norwegian, you might say. (We’re allowed to stereotype Scandinavians, aren’t we?) But obviously Mr. Andsnes is a commanding pianist, and he got and kept your attention.

He shaped the second movement – Adagio cantabile – nicely, demonstrating his usual tidiness and taste. The closing Rondo is a fleet, scampering, merry thing, quite typical of Haydn. But interestingly, Mr. Andsnes used his big, Brahmsian tone – a fat, full, plush tone.This was extraordinary in this music. But it was neither wrong nor unpleasant. As for the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra, it was zippy and precise, especially in its unison playing.

Please note that Mr. Andsnes himself conducted from the keyboard. This approach is fraught with perils, because the pianist-conductor can slight both his playing and his conducting, in myriad ways. But everyone does it, and Mr. Andsnes does it probably better than most.

After the Haydn, the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra played a work composed in 2003, by the young Norwegian Eivind Buene. This is called “Langsam und schmactend” – meaning slow and languishing – which is the famous tempo marking of Wagner’s Prelude to “Tristan und Isolde.” Mr. Buene duly quotes that music, in an effective way. Otherwise, his piece sounds very, very familiar: bleak, stark, end-of-the-worldlike. You can hear a new piece that sounds like this pretty much any night of the week. And they say all Vivaldi concertos sound the same! At least they have the excuse of having been written by one man. Can’t today’s composers feel the impulse of something original? Mr. Buene’s piece conveys angst, yes. But don’t they all.

The first half of the program closed with a chamber-orchestra arrangement of Beethoven’s last quartet, that in F major, Op. 135.The arranging was done by the Norwegian group’s “artistic director” – its concertmaster and leader – Terje T0nnesen. With any such arrangement, you lose a little something: The music sounds heavier, for one thing, and you sacrifice some agility. In the case of Op. 135, this was especially felt in the second movement (Vivace).The third movement (Lento assai e cantante tranquillo) happens to be one of the most heavenly things Beethoven ever wrote. The Norwegian Chamber Orchestra didn’t bring out all the beauty and profundity of it – but at least they didn’t soup it up.

After intermission, we had the Mozart serenade known as “Eine kleine Nachtmusik,” “A Little Night Music” – and you know what? Like “Carmen” and other too-famous pieces, it is really, really good: a model of Mozartean balance and inspiration. Perfect, really. The Norwegians played it competently, with unusually pronounced dynamics. Some ritardandi were unusually pronounced, too, which was not so hot. Furthermore, I believe that the third movement should bounce right into the fourth movement. Mr. T0nnesen and his band paused quite a long time. And then they began this final movement sloppily. But in the main, they did justice to “Nachtmusik.”

When Mr. Andsnes returned, it was for one of the greatest Mozart piano concertos of all, that in D minor, K. 466. He conducted with authority, and he played with authority. The orchestra had that punchiness so typical of the “period” style. In my view, this punchiness can be excessive and unmusical, but the Norwegians did not quite overdo it. Unfortunately, Mr. Andsnes seemed unable to decide on a tempo in the first movement: He rushed, then he slowed. But the sheer force – the confidence – of his playing is undeniable.

Mozart’s middle movement is marked Romanza, and it is not exactly a slow movement – but it might be called a slowish movement. Not in Mr. Andsnes’s hands! He took it almost like the wind, as though it were an Allegro moderato.At one level, this was a relief: Mozart “slow” movements are habitually too slow, just as Mozart’s “slow” arias – e.g., the tenor arias in “Don Giovanni” – are habitually too slow. But at another level, Mr. Andsnes’s speed risked indifference. Also, why were the piano’s bass notes in the G-minor section so subdued, barely audible?

The Rondo was fast, too, but it had an undisputed right. More puzzling was that Mozart’s opening motif was strangely defined, ill-defined, actually. But at least Mr. Andsnes played it the same way every time he encountered it. Mozart closes his movement, and his concerto, with a D-major section, a glorious stretch of music. Beethoven and Brahms borrowed from it. When it appears, it should be like the sun. On Wednesday night, however, there was no real sun: just more briskness and tidiness. Ah, well.

Mr. Andsnes and the orchestra gave an encore, the final movement of a Mozart E-flat concerto. From K. 271, the “Jeunehomme,” you say? That would have been natural (and thrilling). But Mr.Andsnes et al. played the final movement of a different E-flat concerto: K. 449 (no nickname). This is a rarely heard work, and, being by Mozart, an excellent one. Pianist and orchestra suffered a bit of a coordination problem – here, one and all might have benefited from a proper conductor. But Mr. Andsnes played super-stylishly and super-winningly, just as a superstar should.