In devoting his entire recital Saturday night to songs by Johannes Brahms, tenor Ian Bostridge risked making a little too full a mark for the sake of thematic consistency. Yet by dint of exceptional interpretive poise, expressed through a voice of uncommon purity and dynamic nuance, Bostridge scored one of the unalloyed triumphs of this or any other season.

The British singer brought a considerable reputation to his appearance at the University of Louisville School of Music. He is one of those artists who doesn’t open his mouth without thinking, long and hard, about what should emerge. But as he demonstrated at this Speed Endowed Concerts Series recital, he never let undue rumination spoil a combustible moment.

And believe me, there were plenty of those to be heard. Wrapping himself around every contour of Brahms’ Nine Lieder, Op. 32, Bostridge disappeared within a wandering soul warmed by the pleasures of love, and wracked by its agonies.

With the very fine pianist Julius Drake providing all due urgency from the keyboard, Bostridge sang as though his alter-ego were engaged in a kind of deep, anguished confession. Not content to dwell in the bend of the piano — protected territory for many singers — he twisted his body this way and that, roaming the stage in spasms of restless energy.

These nine songs, which Brahms set to texts by such poets as August von Platen and George Friedrich Daumer, might have tempted a less disciplined artist into bathos. Eyes smolder and recriminations are always bitter in this realm of the exalted senses.

Bostridge, however, wasn’t fooled. Instead he identified, and then shaped into commentary, each core emotional issue. If he sometimes sounded desperate, it was because he was singing about desperation. If he exulted, it was because his character had discovered a moment of triumph.

There was little to quibble with in terms of Bostridge’s vocal technique. He moved easily between registers, with what sounded like effortless support and tone that never sacrificed its defining luster. No phrase was compromised by premature or excessive vibrato, and his ability to apply ringing points of emphasis — with thrilling suddenness — was extraordinary.

Bostridge continued his intriguing Brahms survey with four songs set to texts by Heinrich Heine — capped by an appropriately spare account of “Der Tod, das ist die kühle Nache” (“Death is cool night”). He closed with 13 songs exploring a heart mostly ravaged, occasionally comforted, but always revealing.

Saturday’s recital included a single encore: Robert Schumann’s “Mondnacht” (“Moonlight”), Op. 39, No. 5, from “Liederkreis.”