Not that I know much about solo violin, but I do know something about small cast plays, and I'd say the challenges are similar: The fewer the voices, the greater the need to hit just the right tone. The artistry had better be immaculate.

Much credit, then, to the world premiere of Willy Holtzman's "The Morini Strad" at City Theatre, in which the dialogue is indeed artful: sharp, witty, sometimes pensive and sympathetic, occasionally seductive. But there are few of the pyrotechnics of which even a solo instrument is capable. At just under 90 minutes, this is narrative imbued with different moods (comedy, sonnet, georgic, elegy), never building to something explosive. Its emotions are generally modest, but they ring true.

The Strad of the title is the Davidoff Stradivarius, owned by Erica Morini, a real Austrian-American violinist (1904-95) of fabled fire and skill. Mr. Holtzman gives her, late in life, an antagonist five decades younger, the prideful Brian Skarstad.

He's a violin maker -- a craftsman who rises to artistry -- who, to pay the bills, also repairs violins. Theirs is a prickly relationship, of course, or how else would there be drama? Entering her 10th decade, she is a wary diva, defensive and sharp-tongued. Gradually they lower their defenses and enter a working relationship, eased by a growing friendship.

But the drama is never intense. There are ups and downs, but nothing earth-shattering until the very end, when there's little earth left to shatter. Rather than reaching an explosive climax, the play eases into elegy.

I wish there were some more galvanizing events, but Mr. Holzman has apparently stayed true to the shape of real lives. And there is certainly interest in the friction of such opposing, cross-generational characters. I most enjoyed the skillful comedy of barbed comment. But mainly, Skarstad remains the occasion by which we discover Morini. It's really her play.

As such, it is laced with offhand perceptions about life, art and love. This modesty of the drama is matched by the understated wit of Tony Ferrieri's extraordinary thrust set in the intimate Hamburg theater. In front, you see the rich living room of Morini's handsome New York apartment. Behind and above, on a platform, is Skarstad's workshop, scattered with tools and soaring racks of violins, like chorines in formation. Everything is in warm, rich colors, including the brick wall at the rear.

There are also strings strung from ceiling to floor and across the stage -- like rigging on a ship or -- of course! -- a violin's long fingerboard and strings. And that indented circular area in front that serves as stairs from apartment to workshop is a violin's gracefully indented waist. You see this if you look from the side and recognize the platform's distinctive, voluptuous curves. This is significant form masked by the ordinary.

The play has some of that, too. I'm not sure how much. Sometimes it feels just a dutiful tribute, a dramatized life story. We hear recorded snatches of Morini's music, but not enough to be swept away. And I never believe in the family Skarsgard supposedly has just offstage.

But then the dialogue turns a corner and presto, there's insight into art and time, and that set-sized violin seems to throb with Morini's music. "Art is a poor substitute for love," we hear, as they question the life choices they've made. "Art is love," the play later affirms.

A two-hander depends hugely on the hands. Playing Morini is Carla Belver, a Philadelphia actress new to Pittsburgh. She supplies the mix of hauteur and cranky snap the part requires. Facing her as Skarstad is an actor we know very well, David Whalen. He has an innate grace that doesn't quite match the cranky craftsman, but his light touch provides the empathy to frame Morini's story.

Directing is Daniella Topol, a returning City Theatre veteran who now makes a specialty of midwifing new plays. She handles this one gently. It may need more sizzle, but you wouldn't want to compromise its quiet truth. That includes an unsolved mystery, an intriguing, open-ended conclusion that encourages speculation.

Mr. Holzman has been to Pittsburgh twice to develop new plays before -- "Sabina" and "The Closer" at the new play festival at Carnegie Mellon in the 1990s. Let's hope City Theatre serves him as well.

First Published: November 19, 2010, 10:00 a.m.