Marilyn Horne’s “The Song Continues …” continued on Thursday at Weill Recital Hall with a duo recital of voices on their way up. The project attempts to preserve and protect the song recital in an era when classical music in general is disappearing from the American landscape as inexorably as once did the buffalo and when serious vocal art is, at least in the public imagination, confined almost exclusively to opera.

Of course, these are voices not fully developed and styles not fully mastered, so the benefit for the listener is to experience firsthand a later stage of artistic progression. Soprano Hanan Alattar was first to present and offered two sets of lieder in very different moods.

Ms. Alattar’s debut performance as Zerlina in New York City Opera’s “Don Giovanni” last season was marred by breath control difficulties. She was much more in command this evening, indicating her move to the next rung of the ladder. She possesses a rich instrument but suffers some waywardness of pitch, especially in louder notes. Although she did a good job of articulating the desperation of Hugo Wolf’s Mignon, her insistence on exaggerated operatic gestures and facial expressions in the Joaquin Turina set Poema en forma de canciones was over the top.

Timothy Fallon is still at Juilliard and is blessed with a sweet lyric tenor of the distinctly Irish variety. He challenged himself in his first set by attempting some of the more colorful songs of Franz Liszt, including the heroic ballad Der Alpenjaeger from Drei Lieder aus Wilhelm Tell. Again, this is the proper forum for stretching in order to grow, so his consistent flatness in notes both loud and high was not as much a flaw as an opportunity. Mr. Fallon is close to achieving his goal, as indicated by his perfect pitch control and seamless transitioning in high passages.

Mr. Fallon was much more in his element in the trio of pieces from Gerald Finzi’s A Young Man’s Exhortation, lovingly shaping his phrases and utilizing his instrument for maximum emotional impact. Finzi was obsessed with the poet Thomas Hardy, not only setting his texts to music, but also following the man around and collecting his discarded material as memorabilia. Today we might label him a stalker, but there is little doubt that his exquisite settings are tremendously moving.

Without gesturing, Mr. Fallon scored his heartfelt points with sheer beauty of sound. Fortuitously, I had chosen to sit in the back row of this small hall, so that during Finzi’s The Dance Continued, nobody could observe me openly weeping.

***

Nobody plays Mendelssohn quite as nimbly as the Gewandhaus Orchestra of Leipzig, nor Haydn as charmingly as the Vienna Philharmonic. Would another hometown ensemble be as authoritative in the music of its own native son? On Friday evening, the Hamburg Symphony offered an opportunity to find out as it presented that sunniest of all symphonies, the D minor Second of Johannes Brahms.

Conductor Andrey Boreyko began with a disciplined account of the Felix Mendelssohn Overture The Hebrides, often known as “Fingal’s Cave.” Although I wished for a little more mystery and a little darker hue, the overall sound of the orchestra was instantly satisfying. Not opulent nor lush, but rather sinewy and athletic, the group phrased with seamless facility.

Those of us who are unabashed lovers of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto have learned to make room for those who are not. The other side will argue that the first movement — twice the length of either of the other two — is repetitious and ultimately a bit dull. Robert McDuffie, tonight’s soloist, labored assiduously to make his individual passages seem fresh, achieving a kaleidoscopic variety by varying phrase lengths, employing differing amounts of vibrato, and exhibiting a thorough command of the work’s technical demands.

Mr. McDuffie, however, offered one of the most pedestrian tones imaginable for what should have been a Romantic showcase. His rather anemic sound rendered his concentrated efforts at showcasing the beauty of Tchaikovsky’s music moot, and doomed all of his technique to mere finger exercises. The Hamburg ensemble, though, sounded great, its string sections really digging in to what Mr. Boreyko elevated beyond backup to an equal partnership. Bruckner may be the horn player’s favorite composer, but the bassoonist must love Tchaikovsky best, and the Hamburg winds in general produced some of the best playing that I have experienced this season. When the orchestra entered midmovement alla marcia, the effect was truly joyful. At the conclusion of the first movement, all received a huge, prolonged ovation.

So could they play Brahms? You bet! This was a wonderful performance filled with that atmospheric quality that makes this symphony perhaps the most beloved of all. The piece was inspired by walks Brahms took with his friends, including the composer Ignaz Bruell, and this rendition captured not only the Alpine beauties of the score but also the sense of the athleticism of the walk itself.

Mr. Boreyko accomplished a lot with his smallish band. There were only six cellos, but they intoned with a muscular sound that presented the gloriously familiar Brahmsian themes not only with heartfelt lyricism but also energetic fitness. The ensemble sound was simply spectacular, and matters of discipline, such as perfectly uniform pizzicato, emphasized the masterful work ethic of the group.

Again, the winds were notably excellent — those extremely delicate clarinet passages achingly beautiful — and the horns were consistently accurate and on pitch. I hoped for Mr. Boreyko to observe, if not a grand pause, then at least a caesura near the end of the Adagio non troppo, but this was not to be this evening. He is in good company, as some of the great conductors of the past have ignored this seemingly vital moment — listen to the CD of that “other” band from Hamburg, the North German Radio Orchestra under Gunther Wand, to hear the same uninterrupted treatment. Maybe it’s a hometown thing.