Central to Simone Dinnerstein’s recording ambitions is a kind of reflective Bach-playing which, with or without Larkin’s line ‘Something almost being said’ as a marketing ploy, will divide the critics. Her Bachian utterances also serve here as a framing stimulus towards the rapt stillness and presence of her Schubert Impromptus.

Past detractors have alighted on mannerisms, painfully slow tempi and controlled deliberation, and the same can, to a certain extent, be said here. Starting with the last (which is usually first), the First Partita is a performance which requires some serious acclimatising – though acclimatising to what, I’m not sure. Accepting Dinnerstein’s priority for a forthright and productive tone, the sense of ‘a powerful narrative and vocal element’ (to which she aspires) completely suffocates the ideals of light, wit and spark in a vision of great solemnity but one with a distinct shortage of personality and dimension. This is a very slow performance which doubtless could inspire a clear rationale in a few pianists’ hands but not in these.

To uncover new possibilities in Bach, one needs rather more than a seamless meditative line in the Sarabande, studiously even and portentous Minuets and a glassy, stalling Gigue. Beyond admirably steady and controlled calibrations, Dinnerstein offers considerably more in the Second Partita. The Sinfonia unfolds elegantly, the Sarabande is especially genial, the Minuets are lifted quirkily and the Gigue provides a surprisingly bucolic romp.

The Schubert-playing is intermittently thoughtful but lumpy. The E flat Second Impromptu is impressively resonant but over-regulated in the figuration. The consistently heavy and serious ‘tone’ throughout yields rarely to expressive variety or palpable depth of sentiment. A rather enervating experience overall.