When opera singers reach a certain level of fame and stature, they almost invariably express the desire to present song recitals as well. Often the problem is that they have little training in this specialized art and too much practice in their own stylistic niche. As a result, many highly publicized evenings at Carnegie or Alice Tully turn out to be woeful disappointments, proving only the lack of adaptability of many of our best singers.

There are exceptions. Recently, a couple of the finest exponents of lieder and song singing were here starring together at the Met. Anne Sofie von Otter and Jose Van Dam are two of the world’s greatest stars on the operatic stage; each is also a remarkable artist of the intimate and delicate. Many of their equals at the opera house simply don’t have the diction, phrasing, patience, and inner directedness necessary for this smaller, more arcane craft. And so, at most song recitals mounted by opera singers, everyone waits for the encore section so that the performers can become Gypsy girls and toreadors again.

But what do you do if the song recital is a compendium of short pieces written by operatic composers? Just such an event was the latest offering by the always fascinating New York Festival of Song, presented at Merkin Concert Hall Wednesday evening. Those of us who slogged our way up Broadway like Shackleton at the pole were treated to a simply delightful program of miniatures from some of our favorite composers whose songs we had never heard.

When was the last time that you were at a presentation of a Wagner song written in French? This highly inventive program had just such a tune, composed when the young man was in Paris in the thrall of Meyerbeer. For encyclopedic completeness, there was a Meyerbeer ditty as well.

Though the concert was shaped by groupings of like composers, after a while I began to realize there were actually two distinct types of songs: operatic and not. In the former category were such numbers as “Adieux a Suzon” of Bizet, sung by last-minute substitute Jeremy Little; “La regatta veneziana” of Rossini, performed in classic bel canto duet style, complete with characterizations, by soprano Carolyn Betty and mezzo Adriana Zabala; and a hilarious take on Donizetti’s “La gelosia” from mezzo Marie Lenormand and baritone Daniel Mobbs.

All these were great fun and simply seemed to be escapees from one of those minor operas to which we just have never gotten around. And the most impressive of these pseudo theatrical works was also the best performed: Ms. Betty was sensational in Bellini’s “La ricordanza.” The piece was very familiar to many of us, as it was the rough draft of Elvira’s mad scene from “I Puritani,” a sonnet setting of poet Carlo Pepoli, who soon thereafter fashioned that famous, deliciously illogical libretto.

The other type of song was represented by such affecting works as Wagner’s “Tout n’est qu’images fugitives” – again Ms. Betty – “Aimons-nous!” of Gounod, sung by Ms. Lenormand, “Stornello” by Verdi, performed by Mr. Mobbs, and “Trust Her Not!” – another comic turn, this time by Jeffrey Picon and Mr. Mobbs. Here there was little sense of the composers being grandiloquent. These finely cut jewels lived and died on their own.

In this category the most memorable entry was the stentorian intonation of baritone Alexander Tall in Gounod’s “Venise,” especially praiseworthy for his diction in this poem by Alfred de Musset. Also fascinating was Rossini’s “Mi lagnero tacendo,” one of a rather amazing 56 settings of this Metastasio poem done by the grand gourmand after he retired from the rough-and-tumble world of the opera house while he was still in his 30s.

Another beautiful frozen moment was Massenet’s “Revons, c’est l’heure.” Hymnal and dreamy, it can stand with any of the similar creations of Faure or Debussy. Massenet was the teacher of the remarkably poetic Reynaldo Hahn, and this music was a wonderful foreshadowing of that Venezuelan’s exquisite output.

This was one of those nights of pure pleasure. It would be mean-spirited to even mention some of the performances that were not as satisfying musically, so I won’t. Overall, these were youthful, high-energy realizations: City Opera redux.

Steven Blier is not only the cofounder (with Michael Barrett) of NYFOS, but also its driving force. Besides being the researcher, programmer, coach, pianist, and master of ceremonies, he also translated every one of this night’s songs from French, German, Italian, and Spanish into readable English for the accompanying booklet. If the proprietors would allow him, he would sell orange drink in the lobby at intermission.