It won’t do to describe Benny Carter as a multi-instrumentalist. Even though he may have been the only major jazzman who was equally fluent on saxophone and trumpet, everything he did outside the realm of the saxophone was, if not exactly superfluous, then certainly secondary. You could take away everything else he ever did (and it was plenty), and the equation of his greatness, both as a player and an orchestrator, remains unchanged.

In fact, I’m almost peeved that the central image of Carter (1907-2003) in his placement in the Nesuhi Ertegun Hall of Fame at Jazz at Lincoln Center is of the subject playing trumpet (it must have something to do with a pro-brass bias on the part of JALC’s artistic director, Wynton Marsalis). Yet JALC has more than made up for this questionable decision, first by electing the native of Harlem to its Hall of Fame and second by honoring him with an excellent concert on Friday and Saturday. Even if JALC’s choice of photos said otherwise, the concert itself, which I attended on Saturday night, was a testament to the reedcentric nature of Carter’s classic work. The opening chorus of the first tune, 1933’s “Symphony in Riffs,” was taken by trumpets, but the piece went from merely brilliant to magical when the saxophones invaded the second chorus. Even when they backed Mr. Marsalis on trumpet and Vincent Gardner on trombone, the reeds made those two brass instruments sound much better. Likewise, soft, muted trumpets introduced the lovely theme of the second number, “Lonesome Nights,” but they were merely an opening act for the reeds: In both tunes, when the saxes took over and danced around the melody with whimsical variations, the party really began.

The best thing about living to 95 is that you have time to do almost anything you want, and Carter did practically everything. The concert began with these two 1933 masterpieces for Carter’s first orchestra (skipping past his earlier works written for other band-leaders, such as Fletcher Henderson), then focused mainly on his swing-era work. Most of his mid-life years were skipped, but the JALC Orchestra did feature excerpts from later works, such as the beautiful “People Time” (1985) and two movements from “Echoes of San Juan Hill.”

Carter’s inspiration clearly meant a lot to the five members of the saxophone section on Saturday, which included Joe Temperley on baritone, Walter Blanding and Victor Goines on tenor (the latter doubling on clarinet), and Sherman Irby and Ted Nash on alto (the latter doubling on flute). It seemed as though they’d stayed up nights and slept with the arrangements under their pillows to get every nuance of Carter’s music exactly right. Most of the time, the role of filling Carter’s own solo spots went to the expressive Mr. Irby, whose alto vibrato more often reminded me of Oliver Nelson.

Unfortunately, the reeds only had the chance to play two of Carter’s saxophone quartet pieces, 1937’s “I’m Comin’ Virginia” and 1961’s “Doozy,” both of which were expanded for a fifth saxophone, namely Mr. Temperley. Still, the saxophones are the meat of the matter on Carter’s ingenious “All of Me” from 1941 and “Shufflebug Shuffle” from 1939, in which the brass does mere grunt work. Only on Saturday’s penultimate piece, “Movin’ Uptown,” was another section (the trombones) given pride of place.

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Speaking of composer tributes, on Friday the third annual Broadway Cabaret Festival at Town Hall began with a salute to Stephen Schwartz.

Mr. Schwartz’s place in the pantheon of living musical theater composers has long been assured: His music and lyrics may not be as consistently brilliant as that other Stephen’s, but they’re certainly a lot better than that of Andrew Lloyd Webber. Mr. Schwartz’s success over the last 40 years on Broadway (even though, amazingly, he’s only 59) has both to do with the quality of his music and the ease with which his songs fit into the worlds of theater and mainstream pop. “Defying Gravity,” the climactic song from Mr. Schwartz’s blockbuster show, “Wicked,” illuminates a character and a narrative, and is a better mass-market pop tune than anything Mariah Carey is singing today.

Liz Callaway got most of the applause in the first act with the very funny “Lion Tamer” and the moving narrative “Meadowlark” (which, coincidentally, borrows from Sondheim’s “Another Hundred People”), although a young comedienne new to me named Jill Abramowitz made a strong impression with the comedy waltz “It’s an Art” (from “Working”). In the second act, Jason Graae, who steals enough shows to be arrested, reworked “Popularity” into a deadpan comedy routine that even replicated Kristin Chenoweth’s “Wicked” yodel.

At his best, Mr. Schwartz is more than capable of writing rich, resonant melodies and equally strong lyrics: Friday’s show climaxed with the composer’s wife Carole sharing with us “No Time at All” (from “Pippin”), a remarkable reflection on life and aging written when Mr. Schwartz was 24 (and recorded with suitable sagaciousness by Bing Crosby). Musically, substantially, and lyrically profound, it’s the kind of song that makes you feel good about yourself, and everything else.

wfriedwald@nysun.com