One of the benefits of a defective musical education is that I am often bowled over.

Last night I heard my first live performance of Bach’s sonatas and partitas for solo violin. The venue was the 92nd St. Y, the violinist was Christian Tetzlaff. Mr. Tetzlaff is 48 years old. Early publicity photos show a baby face, but he has grown into it nicely; if he grew his hair and beard he could front a rock band.

I wonder what his workout routine is. I have never heard such an exposed performance. Vocal soloists almost always have some sort of accompaniment when they perform, even if it’s themselves on a guitar or a piano. Solo pianists, cellists and guitarists get to sit. Tetzlaff stood on the bare stage, with his violin, like a fetal Siamese twin growing out of his neck, for over an hour with only brief breaks, then did it again after the intermission.

Only one violin — yet these are a collection of world pieces, with everything and the kitchen sink. There was song, dance, pyrotechnics so blistering you had to laugh — and the ever present whirring of a mathematical/philosophical mind, Newton meets Aquinas, building towers of demonstration and analysis far too complicated for me to understand, though I could glimpse their summits rising up through the sound. No texting in this audience — everyone was riveted.

I left after the intermission. You missed the chaconne? (the grand climax of the partita in d minor). Yes, I missed the chaconne. I was worn out. I will hear the chaconne another time.