Singer-Songwriter Meets Violin Great

Hilary Hahn is one of our leading violinists. Josh Ritter is a singer-songwriter. I'm not quite sure how you'd classify his music. Indie? Folky? Singer-songwritery? Anyway, Ms. Hahn and Mr. Ritter gave a joint concert at the Metropolitan Museum on Saturday night. I'm not sure why this concert took place. But I can tell you this: They really, really, really like each other.

After some opening remarks from both musicians, Mr. Ritter sang a set of his songs. They are simple, repetitive, and sometimes pleasant. Mr. Ritter accompanied himself on the guitar. And he sings in that laid-back, druggy way that became our national sound 35 years ago, give or take. He has a nice little falsetto, and a very good sense of pitch. He is from Idaho, and doesn't talk with a Southern accent. Funny thing is, he tends to sing in one — especially on the word "I."

His fans were out in force. You could tell because, when he began a song they liked, they cheered. In one song — maybe the same one, can't remember — he stamped his foot on the floor, repeatedly. They yelled. And he bantered throughout his set, usually charmingly. He made fun of Rotarians in Idaho. That is such a daring thing to do on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

In due course, he sang "The Last Rose of Summer." And then Ms. Hahn came out and played the variations on that song composed by Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst (1814–65). She suffered some imperfect notes, even bad ones. I mention this only because it is so un-Hahn-like.

Mr. Ritter sang a couple more songs, but, this time, Ms. Hahn made a contribution, too: She added some little accompanying notes on the violin, to his guitar and voice. This was almost surreal, this great violinist serving this function. Decades ago, Heifetz played while Bing sang, true. But, if you listen to the recordings, that made more musical sense.

One of Mr. Ritter's songs was a ranty, interminable number about war and peace and capitalism and religion. I thought of late nights in a dorm room, populated by hazy undergrad sages.

After intermission, Ms. Hahn played something like a violin recital (unaccompanied). She started with a rarity by Nielsen: his Prelude and Theme with Variations. This deserves to be more like a staple. And Ms. Hahn played it with the absolute mastery for which she is known. This was a mastery both physical and mental. She practically gave a definition of virtuosity in the service of music-making.

But then came the pièce de résistance: She played Bach's Sonata No. 2 in A minor. This has been a good month in New York for that sonata, as Gil Shaham played it in the Rose Theater about a week and a half ago. It is a piece you can listen to at least once a week. And Ms. Hahn was astounding in it. That is, you would have been astounded, if you had never heard her play Bach before. But even if you had — you were plenty astounded. The purity, strength, refinement, and overall musicality were extraordinary.

At the beginning of the evening, Ms. Hahn had noted that there were "reports of scalping" outside the museum. She said she hoped those paying high prices would find the concert worth it. Her Bach alone was worth at least

twice what the highest payer forked over. And, charmingly, Mr. Ritter's fans exploded in applause after the sonata's first movement. I believe there were whoops mixed in there, too. Ms. Hahn smiled.

Following the sonata, she played another piece by Ernst, a caprice that fiddles with the Schubert song "Erlkönig." Not to be left out of the act, Mr. Ritter returned to sing a song of his own, inspired by "Erlkönig." This was "The Oak Tree King" (!). And it is an interesting and skillful song (from an interesting and skillful guy — and an immensely likable one, too, really).

The printed program concluded with Ms. Hahn's playing of a sonata by Ysaÿe: No. 5, the "Pastorale." As the violinist noted from the stage, Ysaÿe was her teacher's teacher — she studied with Jascha Brodsky at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia. And Ms. Hahn played her Ysaÿe with utter assurance, understanding, and heart. It's hard to see how violin playing can get better.

There were, of course, encores — a couple more duets. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe this was the strangest musical event I have ever attended. The same must have been true for many others in the audience. And there was no reason for this event to have taken place — except that two young people (the performers) wanted it to. And people wanted to buy tickets. And those are reasons enough.