Sometimes art mimics life, and sometimes art mimics art. In the case of the Leonard Bernstein Scholars and Fellows concert this Sunday, the latter was true, in that the classical music concert resembled a musical drama.

The cast of players was the talented members of the Bernstein Fellowship, a highly selective program for undergraduate chamber musicians. They showcased their abilities in a variety of ensemble works for piano and strings, ranging from classical Mozart to the contemporary composer Ernest Bloch.

Chamber music is neither solo nor orchestral, but something in between that lets the audience hear the individuality of the performers' instruments, yet also features interactions between each player to form musical dialogues. The Bernstein Fellows both involve the audience's emotions and provoke quiet reflection.

The scene opened with "Meditation" by Bloch. In the brooding, wandering work, Sarah Shin '15 expressed struggle and resignation on viola as Anita Kao '14 created a backdrop of despair on piano.

Contrasting that piece was the regal yet whimsical "Kegelstatt Trio" by Mozart. In this charming piece—performed by violinist Kayley Wolf '12, violist Hannah Saltman '12 and pianist Kristina Yepez '12—the players moved with the music and demonstrated ease. This visual effect was mirrored in the tone of the piece, as the audience felt the music bounce around them. The players understood when to shine or let someone else take the stage.

The "Rumanische Melodie" by German Romantic composer Max Bruch required a similar approach. The work evoked nocturnal scenes of intense longing. Wolf and Saltman's strings sang through the soaring melodies as Yepez breathed sighs into her piano lines.

With each change of scene, new players offered fresh takes on the prior pieces. The audience was next transported to the raw emotion of the "Sonata in F minor, Op. 121, No. 1" by Brahms. In the sonata, Brahms gives the piano a lead voice. Thus freed from the traditional role of an accompanist, Sofiya Zaytseva '12 took equal ground as a prominent voice alongside Saltman's viola.

In the torrential first movement, their playing resembled a tumultuous relationship, a bad romance in which they consumed each other in passionate sound. Saltman pushed her viola to its limits, as Zaytseva displayed wide tonal and dynamic range. Despite this competition for dominance, it was clear that neither partner could survive without the other. The piece resolves, and the two finished the second movement in the quiet contemplation after the storm.

After the intermission the group played Mozart's "Quintet in C Major, K 515." This richly complex work was full of surprises. At times, these unexpected passages were in the traditional mode of voice and accompaniment. Then, a counterpoint followed as melodies melted into each other and overtook the next interlude, but they were never out of balance. My eyes constantly darted back and forth, as they would while watching a tennis match, examining how they traded melodies and built on what came before.

By the end of this musical journey, I felt thoroughly satisfied, entertained and challenged by their musical exploration. The Bernstein Scholars and Fellows explored a richness found in the in-betweens of classical music. Counterpoint and harmony exist between the unison of sound and the division of particular instruments where one would expect to hear only noise. Similarly, there is a richness in the contrast: the element of surprise that is neither random nor ordered, but a resolution of the two. These musicians understood the functions of these juxtapositions, as well as how to execute a phrase while listening to their peers to bring life to the music. They created art.

There is also a beauty in something just short of complete control without having a loss of control. I'm referring to expression: to lose oneself in the music, to let go of order and perfection and submit to the expression of the sounds—easier said than done because of the risk of imperfection.

Still, there is a certain middle point of comfort where technique becomes natural and the medium of expression is so clear that emotion communicates to the audience seamlessly. It is genuine magic. I saw it during the "Rumanische Melodie," at times during the "Sonata," and with cellist Alison Fessler '13 and violinist Brontte Hwang '15 in the "Quintet." It is a rare and beautiful thing.