Hearing Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky at Carnegie Hall brought back a special memory. At the gala for outgoing general manager Joseph Volpe thrown by the Metropolitan Opera two seasons ago, there were many fine singers and some truly spectacular performances. But it was Mr. Hvorostovsky who stood tall above all others. Having apparently already taken a breath in the limousine on the way to the concert, he sailed through Rodrigo’s death scene from Verdi’s “Don Carlo” with remarkable lyricism, elongating his romantic singing lines seemingly undisturbed by the intake of air. The result was an illuminating reading of a familiar passage that put even the great Tito Gobbi to shame.

For his recital on Thursday, Mr. Hvorostovsky was in superb voice, navigating the beauties of 20 songs symmetrically arranged in two impressive halves of 10. Along with his longtime pianist Ivari Ilja, he presented some of the finest gems of Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff, and Medtner.

And who? Well, Nicolai Medtner was a Russian pianist of German parentage who had a successful career as a soloist — he was an Anton Rubinstein prize winner — at the beginning of the last century. His music is written almost exclusively for piano or voice and the best of it is from his early years before his wanderings throughout Europe and America as a performer. His piano music in particular is exquisite, much of it inspired by fairy tales. His songs are unfamiliar in the West; judging from this quintet, that oversight should be rectified immediately.

Mr. Hvorostovsky put over these aural vignettes with a craftsman’s care and an artist’s love. “Gone Are My Heart’s Desires” is a chilling piece with text of Pushkin that concludes with the lonely line “I’m a forgotten, shivering leaf.” Mr. H drew upon his operatic training to fashion a portrait of a character of intense sorrow. In “To a Dreamer,” also Pushkin, he presented a man obsessed by love. In two Goethe pieces, “Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage” and “The Wanderer’s Nightsong,” he developed magnificent crescendi that were infectious in their zeal. Then back to Pushkin for “Winter Evening,” the swirling storm created by the steadfast Mr. Ilja threateningly surrounding this dark and spare work, primitive in the best tradition of Mussorgsky. This in particular was a moving performance — no-holds-barred Romanticism with incredibly taut lines. Mr. Hvorostovsky has reached the point in his career where he could come out onto that stage and read the telephone directory and everyone would applaud wildly, but this set of Medtner songs deserved all of the tumultuous adulation it received.

Some of us in the critical community have been concerned that his newfound fame in the popular arena back home — he currently fills soccer stadia with lighter fare and electronic equipment — might have an influence on his classical singing. As it happens, we were right to be wary, except that the effect on his contemporary presentation is a beneficent one. His unbuttoning with the sort of crowd-pleasing ditties that he offered at the end of his last recital has loosened this consummate artist up just a tad, moving the voice from the strong but a bit stiff to the supple and pliant. This transformation allowed for even greater communication in the lovely set of Tchaikovsky songs and released the singer to clearly display the emotional center of each set piece even for those of us who do not wish to be distracted by reading the texts in the program booklet. A Russian friend in attendance commented on Mr. Hvorostovsky’s excellent diction; although I am unfamiliar with the language, I felt as if I had understood every word.

* * *

George London was a very different type of baritone from Dmitri Hvorostovsky, but one of similar nobility and artistry. Actually a bass-baritone, he was a presence in the Italian repertoire but will always be remembered specifically for his Wagner — clean and clear, commanding and yet disarmingly personal. London’s “Wotan’s Farewell” is the standard by which all others should be judged. The foundation that bears his name supports a number of young singers and each year opens the finals of its competition to the public.

At the Morgan Library, the contestants had one last chance to impress their adjudicators. There were 25 entrants, and not a bad one in the bunch. I play a little game at these competitions, picking my own winners and then comparing them with the actual recipients of the London grants. Last year, the judges and I only disagreed about one finalist.

Here are my choices for the seven winners of this year’s competition, the first six of whom are presented in no particular order. At the conclusion of this article, we shall see who was actually chosen.

Soprano Lisette Oropesa was quite impressive in building a mood as she chose the difficult mad scene from “Hamlet” by Ambroise Thomas. Some of her top notes were a bit harsh, but overall this was a fine effort, notable for deep dives into the character of Ophelia.

That same sense of depth of character was what made the rendition of baritone Lee Poulis so memorable. Singing Ford’s aria “E sogno? O realta” from Verdi’s “Falstaff,” his singing was exciting, even thrilling. Another soprano, Angela Meade, was simply superb in “Non mi dir” from “Don Giovanni.” Ms. Meade was recently pressed into service at the Metropolitan Opera for the current run of “Ernani,” and, at the Morgan, dazzled with power and pitch purity. A tough call, but this was probably the best individual performance of the session.

Mezzo Sasha Cooke was excellent in “Parto, parto ma tu ben mio” from Mozart’s “La Clemenza di Tito.” She was pristine in her delivery of lines, hit every note in its exact center, and was in control every step of the way. This campanilian voice will go far.

Speaking of purity, countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo not only had the most distinctive voice this day, but knew how to husband it intelligently. His “Stille Amare” from Handel’s “Tolomeo” was electric, icy cold in spots, fiery red in others. For this critic to choose a countertenor, it had to be a very special performance.

Finally, a consensus pick had to be tenor Richard Cox, who re-created the memorable mad scene from “Peter Grimes” with a dark sense of characterization, a large armamentarium of emotions and a room-filling voice. Definitely ready for prime time.

The seventh award is reserved for Canadians, as London was born up north. Out of the five entrants, I chose soprano Katherine Whyte, whose “Presentation of the Rose” was quite distinguished.

Who did not win an award but should have was pianist Jonathan Kelly, who performed for the entire three hours and strongly supported 24 of these able aspirants through many differing moods and styles.

So, how did the judges vote? They picked Ms. Oropesa, Ms. Meade, and Mr. Cox but also selected sopranos Meagan Miller, Julianna DiGiacomo, and Tamara Wilson and, for their Canadian, Joyce El-Khoury. Ms. Cooke and Messrs. Costanzo and Poulis did receive $1,000 each as “encouragement awards.” Oh well, that’s what makes horse races.