It used to be thought that “Der Freischutz” simply didn’t travel well, that Carl Maria von Weber’s opera of the occult was too steeped in Black Forest folklore to appeal to foreign audiences. But nowadays productions of this seminal German Romantic opera, once a national icon, are becoming rare even in Germany. Many attending the Opera Orchestra of New York’s Monday performance under Eve Queler must have been approaching “Der Freischutz” for the first time. Some, however, remember fondly the Metropolitan Opera’s revival from the early 1970s for its contributions by Pilar Lorengar and Edith Mathis.

The work has its problems. The human-interest side of the story – about a hunter whose poor marksmanship leads him to make a pact with the devil so he can win his chosen bride in a shooting contest – is easily obscured by its folk elements. And the work’s occasionally clumsy dramaturgy is a reminder that German opera didn’t exist on a firm footing when “Der Freischutz” had its premiere in 1821 in Berlin. But a sympathetic producer can work all this out, and the work’s musical glories are so obvious and appealing that it is well worth the effort.

Production values didn’t enter into the equation at Carnegie Hall, since the performance was in concert form. But with the voice of Samiel, an incarnation of the devil, piped in from offstage, it was possible to appreciate the chill of the famous Wolf’s Glen scene and recognize it as a launch pad for Wagner. As the hero Max casts magic bullets with the help of the netherworld, the scene’s free-flowing dramatic structure, recurring themes, and (for its day) highly chromatic writing, all point the way toward the master of Bayreuth.

Yet for all the importance of the Wolf’s Glen scene as a representation of the supernatural and its central position in the opera, it hardly overshadows the rest of the opera. “Der Freischutz’s” choruses are too lusty, its arias and ensembles too engaging. Indeed, there is hardly a weak musical moment in the whole piece, even if the ending, when the repentant Max is let off with a year’s probation, is a bit lame.

Monday’s performance marked the United States debut of the Dutch soprano Charlotte Margiono, who has enjoyed a major career in Europe. Although she came to prominence in Mozart, Ms. Margiono displayed a voice of true dramatic substance and carrying power as Max’s fiancee Agathe. Agathe is a rather passive figure who, having had a premonition of impending disaster, spends much of the opera worrying. But she also has two splendid arias, including the famous “Leise, leise.”

Ms. Margiono sang the opening slow movement with lovely restraint and floated it on a seamless, gorgeous pianissimo almost throughout. The cabaletta-like close was sung with energy and full-bodied sound, though her tone was a little pinched on top. The haunting third-act prayer, “Und ob die Wolke,” with its lovely cello obbligato, also brought exquisite singing.

Max was originally to have been sung by the tenor Johan Botha, but apparently he decided that Max was not for him. In the event the incipient heldentenor role was taken by Thomas Studebaker. He took a stand-and-deliver approach, singing the part firmly and fluently, if not terribly expressively. The bass Vitalij Kowaljow was in fine form as Kaspar, a gamekeeper who serves as the instrumentality of Samiel’s evil doing. Mr. Kowaljow sang his great first-act aria with incisiveness and menace and coped ably with the fiendish coloratura runs at the close.

Agathe’s cheerful cousin Annchen supplies a welcome contrast to Agathe’s troubled state with two delightful arias. Sandra Moon sang with bright tone and a lively, insistent manner, making the most of the clever second aria that pokes fun of the opera’s supernatural element by recounting the tale of a ghost who turns out to be a family watchdog.

Smaller roles were also well taken. Philip Cokorinos’s seasoned bass dealt handsomely with the music of Agathe’s father, Kuno, and the baritone Andrew Mobbs was excellent as the peasant Kilian, who taunts Max’s poor shooting in the opening scene. Michael Chioldi was effective as the reigning prince, Ottokar, and the bass Andrew Gangestad intoned the Hermit’s deus ex machina pronouncements majestically.

The Coro Lirico upheld the choral honors in able fashion, variously as huntsmen, bridesmaids, country folk, musicians, and invisible spirits. Ms. Queler began the evening with a tidy reading of the famous overture, which draws heavily on the opera’s thematic material. She went on to preside over a well-proportioned performance that only here and there might have had a bit more urgency.