Serious stuff: Conservatory professors Gregory Fulkerson and James Howsmon performed in Finney Chapel last Sunday night.

Violin professor Gregory Fulkerson needs to learn how to smile.

I mean this only half-jokingly. In his hour-and-a-half-long recital last Sunday night, his mouth stretched into what could possibly be described as a smirk, no further, only three or four times. The same could be said of the overall performance. It had lots of verve, lots of technical prowess and a good amount of artistry, but no real joy. Both the music and Fulkerson seemed vaguely uncomfortable, overly serious and rather out of place on Finney’s expansive stage.

Fulkerson performed all three of Schumann’s violin sonatas, expertly accompanied by professor James Howsmon, to a good-sized crowd in Finney Chapel last Sunday night. He programmed the sonatas out of chronological order, placing the two A minor works next to each other (No. 1 and No. 3, written respectively in 1851 and 1853) in order to end with the more recognized No. 2 in D minor.

The first A minor sonata was rendered satisfyingly enough. Fulkerson’s dark, rich sound in the opening of the first sonata effectively captivated the audience from the start. He brought a gypsy-like quality to the whole first movement that worked quite well, although sometimes his fervent romanticism came off as forced and overly ponderous. The allegretto was neatly performed, with a sense of subdued playfulness throughout, and the third movement allowed Fulkerson a chance to dig in with more gypsy-inspired passion.

The second A minor sonata did not work nearly as well as the first. The composition itself seemed rather awkward, although it was difficult to tell whether this awkwardness came from the piece or the performance. Even so, I’m glad the work was included; it gave Howsmon a chance to get noticed in spite of the fact that he was all but ignored by his soloistic partner. Howsmon’s opening in the first movement was very effectively played, and his work in the Intermezzo was exquisite.

Fulkerson, on the other hand, seemed to be working too hard. The opening of the first movement tended to sound like a bow control exercise with lots of vibrato, and the Scherzo was plodding where it should have been vivacious and free. The last movement culminated what was overall a poorly pulled-together performance. Ensemble was rough, with the many lines traded off between the piano and violin getting lost both stylistically and rhythmically. This quirky movement would have required a great deal of direction and flair to work; Fulkerson’s interpretation lacked both.

After a slightly disappointing first half, the audience was treated to the duo’s best when they returned after intermission to play Schumann’s Sonata No. 2 in D minor. This sonata is more frequently performed than the other two, and the reason why was immediately apparent: it’s a better piece. Fulkerson and Howsmon acknowledged this by bringing to the work a much greater sense of purpose and energy than they brought to the other two sonatas.

The first movement started off well, gaining considerable momentum as it progressed. Fulkerson utilized his brilliant command of tone color much more extensively than in the first half; the movement’s soft, lyrical passages were particularly beautiful. The second movement was appropriately light and naturally phrased, and the chorale-like third movement also had many nice moments.

The real show-stopper, however, was the last movement: Fulkerson’s phrasing was impeccably nuanced and his dense sound worked perfectly with Schumann’s writing. The pair seemed finally tuned in to each other. The work’s climax was superb, a genuine and satisfying finale to this gem of the violin repertoire.

There was a lot of great violin playing in this recital. There were also a lot of beautiful moments. Unfortunately, at least for this reviewer, these aspects were overshadowed by the performance’s general flatness. At a time when classical music, in the broad sense of the term, is struggling for an audience, it seems counterproductive to perform without allowing oneself to revel in the joy of musical expression.

A performance cannot simultaneously move people and be self-consciously wry. And so, while it may seem inane, I truly think that a full-fledged smile or two would have significantly improved this program, even if only by verifying that Fulkerson actually wanted to be there on stage. Which might have given the audience, in turn, a reason to want to be there listening.