On Sunday, violinist Christian Tetzlaff opened the 75th anniversary season of the Cincinnati Chamber Music Society by performing J.S. Bach's six works for solo violin - three partitas and three sonatas - in Memorial Hall. To say it was an inspiring performance would be an understatement. Tetzlaff performed with the kind of insight, intellect and interpretive power that one rarely witnesses, and it was all dispatched with astounding virtuosity.

Making his tour de force even more impressive, the violinist, who studied at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music in 1985-86, undertook the marathon fresh from a three-night stint with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Cincinnati's Paavo Jarvi.

Bespectacled and wearing a dark suit, the German-born virtuoso plunged without fanfare into Bach's Sonata No. 1 in G Minor. From the first note, he projected a big, powerful tone on his modern Peter Greiner violin (a copy of a Guarneri del Gesu), and the music unfolded with almost surgical precision.

Yet he communicated with such natural warmth, expression and pristine intonation, that the result was mesmerizing. The audience of nearly 400 exploded with bravos after each piece, as if in a collective climb to the summit with the artist.

It's no mean feat to perform melody, harmony and counterpoint all at once on the violin, a melodic instrument. Yet Tetzlaff brought out each inner line of Bach's immense fugues, and melodies soared seamlessly and with great beauty over pulsating accompaniments.

Each movement of each larger work had its own character - haunting or dark, playful or profound. He dug into the "Courante" of Partita No. 2 in D Minor with fire and intensity; the next dance, a "Sarabande," was introspective and soulful. His "Chaconne" was intensely emotional - at times, he seemed to be baring his soul.

The violinist often dispatched breathtaking displays, never losing his concentration or focus. The "Double" of Partita No. 1 was a dazzling feat, delivered seemingly in one breath. The finale of Sonata No. 3 in C was a spectacle of impossibly difficult figures, spiraling to a lightning-quick finish.

Tetzlaff barely looked at the audience as he worked through nearly two and a half hours of music (with a dinner break in the middle). He moved along with the music, at times crouching or swaying, but it was all for the integrity of the music, and nothing done out of ego.

He attacked the final, most familiar piece, Partita No. 3 in E, with as much freshness and energy as if he had just picked up his instrument. The "Preludio" ended with a flourish of his bow, and he performed the ensuing dance movements with a sense of joy and exuberance.

E-mail jgelfand@enquirer.com