If you were any place other than the Maine Center for the Arts on Saturday night, you missed a most exquisite evening of music. Les Arts Florissants, a vocal and instrumental group that performs music from the 17th and 18th centuries, presented two brief operas, and completely revived the exuberance and ornateness of the Baroque period. The most fascinating part, however, was that these eight soloists and five instrumentalists accomplished this with little more than voices and instruments.

In fact, there was no actual ostentation. This group was composed and concise in its actions and dramatics. It was all soul, skill, and spirit.

Les Arts was founded in Paris more than 10 years ago by American musician William Christie, who directed Saturday night’s concert. The depth and blend of sound were a constant indication of Christie’s graceful imagination and sensitivity to the music.

In “Acteon,” Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s pastoral tragedy (sung in French), the small ensemble of two violins, cello and harpsichord twisted and turned with florid style while the singers related the story of Acteon. Elegantly and powerfully, they presented the tale of a hunter who, in search of rest, leaves his party and inadvertently encounters Diana and her sisters as they bathe. When he is discovered by the women, Acteon is dealt a harsh punishment. He is turned into a stag, pursued by his own hounds, and killed. “What heart could be unmoved by this misfortune?” the chorus of hunters asks.

What heart could be unmoved, indeed, by the beautiful presentation of this tragic story? So simple and pure were the sopranos, so direct and provocative the tenor.

For “Dido and Aeneas,” written by Englishman Henry Purcell in the late 1600s, the troupe brought a decidedly lighter mood to the music, though the tale was no less a tragedy than “Acteon.” Here, lovers are torn apart by politics, and a sorceress and her witches. The singers, though they were in much the same positions on the bare stage, were transformed by the sharp definitions and character of their voices into members of the underworld. Seconds later, they were royalty, or sailors, or lovers. The changes were subtle and glorious.

The sounds of Les Arts Florissants were old sounds, a celebration of just how decorative and convoluted music can be. Christie, his musicians and vocalists caught every nuance, and articulated it with unforgettable balance, crispness, and clarity.