The Beaux Arts Trio, born almost 50 years ago, appeared on Friday night in its usual venue, Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium in the Metropolitan Museum. The hall was full to overflowing, with over 100 patrons sitting on the stage.

The mainstay of this trio is the pianist, Menahem Pressler, who was present at the creation (to borrow a phrase). He celebrated his 80th birthday last year. The other – newer – members are Daniel Hope, violin, and Antonio Meneses, cello. They didn’t play exactly a trio concert: They offered a Beethoven violin-and-piano sonata, a Beethoven cello-and-piano sonata … and then a trio. Also Beethoven. The Trio in D major, Op. 70, No. 1, nicknamed the “Ghost.”

First up was that violin-and-piano sonata, although one should really say piano-and-violin, because that is the order that Beethoven himself used. In any case, the sonata in question was that in A minor, Op. 23. In it – in the first movement, in particular – we could see the real Menahem Pressler.

Mr. Pressler is what we call – perhaps enigmatically – a “pianist’s pianist.” It’s a swell phrase, but what does it mean? I think it means that he pays attention to the “niceties”: phrasing, rhythm, note values, dynamics. He is an honest pianist, injecting no falsity into his playing – no artifice, no ego (unwanted ego). A love of the pianist’s craft, and of music, shines through his work.

Further, he’s a pianist one can learn from. For these reasons and still others, he’s a pianist’s pianist.

His playing in the first movement of the Beethoven was refined and “poetic,” but in this no one should read “airy-fairy.” Mr. Pressler always had body and definition. He and the violinist, Mr. Hope, meshed well, acting almost as one musician. Beethoven’s lyrical and stormy elements were duly brought forth. And the movement’s ending – like the movement overall – was a model of grace and timing.

The middle movement was less successful, with Mr. Hope not so crisp, not so clean – a little fuzzy, unfocused (and squeaky). Further, the playing of both men got a little plodding, a little hesitant. Their tempo slowed down unwisely.

The final movement, Allegro molto, is one of Beethoven’s “horizontal,” stewing movements. Here – in certain melodic lines – Mr. Hope was more retiring than he might have been, and the two musicians weren’t nearly as together as they had been earlier.

This was a puzzlingly uneven performance, two-thirds merely adequate, one-third – the first third – superb.

The cello sonata was that in A major, Op. 69. Out came Mr. Meneses, of course, who presented a burnished tone, and a quite bassy one. But isn’t a cello tone a cello tone, regardless of player, instrument, piece, or circumstances? Not on your life. Mr. Pressler and Mr. Meneses were clearly competent, and yet they might have done better: Mr. Pressler might have shown more fire when the music gets to A minor (we’re in the first movement); and the runs alternating between the two musicians might have been dreamier. A kind of lethargy covered this movement, instead of a contentment. The playing was too “autumnal,” if you will, for the music’s good.

The ensuing Scherzo had an excellent rhythmic character – but Mr. Meneses might have shown more warmth in A major. And in the third movement – which begins Adagio cantabile – Mr. Pressler truly sang, as the marking asks, and the cellist did some singing too. He also showed a new nimbleness and life. Though the movement’s – and sonata’s – final marking is Allegro vivace, Mr. Pressler and Mr. Meneses laid on a fitting, unrushed nobility.

A fellow critic made a witty and apt remark at intermission: “I think the Beaux Arts Trio functions better as a trio.” Indeed, they did great credit to the “Ghost,” one of Beethoven’s best chamber works (which is saying something). The middle movement is the crown of the thing, but we shouldn’t neglect the outer movements. The players began the piece vigorously and precisely. This whole movement was magnificently judged, interpretively, and well oiled, technically. Mr. Pressler’s playing sparkled – and all three men were alert to Beethoven’s shifts and invention.

It is the middle movement – Largo assai ed espressivo – that gives this work its name, and the Beaux Arts spared no ghostliness. This is an enormously suspenseful, dramatic movement, almost a mini-opera. The players caught that drama – although they ran the risk of etiolation. Over-etiolation, I should say.

Mr. Pressler wasted no time going into the last movement – Presto – as he had wasted no time going into other movements. This is (usually) a musicianly trait. And this last movement is splendidly crafted, showing what Beethoven had learned from Bach, Haydn, and Mozart. No, he never met the first gentleman personally – but he was his student all the same.

And, in their playing, the Beaux Arts Trio showed that they knew what they were doing, too.