What exactly constitutes a Beethoven bagatelle is a moot point, as witness the varied add-ons to the standard published sets of Opp 33, 119 and 126, masterpieces all. As you’d expect from such an experienced Beethoven performer as Paul Lewis, there’s a confidence in every track and the word that I repeatedly scribbled down during my listening was ‘natural’. But that is not to imply that there’s any lack of strength of characterisation or impact about his readings. What is also particularly telling is the way he creates the sense of a bigger structure over the course of an opus, even where that involves a study in contrasts. In Op 33, for instance, he sets up an aptly lilting gait in the first and proceeds to play up its improvisatory quality, while in the second, though the off-beat accents may be less anarchic than in some hands, that ensures that the joke never wears thin, a quality that also informs the fifth; in the third there’s a quiet insouciance, with the harmonic shifts deftly brought out; the fourth has a lightness of touch, delighting in its quirkiness. The sixth is full of Haydnesque whimsy, while the final number is less obsessive in its repeated thirds – I find Steven Osborne’s slightly more driven tempo even more potent here.

This very much sets the scene for the remaining Bagatelles, Lewis always giving due consideration to Beethoven’s highly contrasting musical ingredients. In the first of Op 119, for instance, the pert opening motif is balanced by the gently sighing response, while the tension between the tinkling musical-box innocence of Op 119 No 3’s opening idea and the following martial motif is brilliantly brought to life. He ensures that the galloping Risoluto of No 5 never becomes overbearing; and while some might charm more overtly in the Allegretto section of the sixth of the set, Lewis instead brings out its darting unexpectedness. He lets the oddness of the seventh speak for itself and another highlight is the last of the set, its mix of filigree and stately chordal movement held in perfect accord.

In Op 126 Lewis sets off serenely before looping off into rhythmic disarray as the full force of Beethoven’s fantasy is unleashed. Both he and Brendel fully appreciate the importance of silence in the toccata-like second, while Piotr Anderszewski revels in its violent extremes, Osborne grimly determined. In the fourth piece Lewis is gloriously gruff without the accentuation becoming overstated, and in the fifth he finds a dreaminess that is very telling as the piece floats ever more free of its harmonic moorings. The Presto of the last is full of fire, contrasting with the unpredictable fantasy of the Andante amabile.

The remaining pieces range from a superbly dispatched Fantasia in G minor, Op 77, Lewis patently enjoying its driving scales and endless shifts of dynamics and tonality, to unpublished pieces, such as the playful Klavierstück, WoO60 – in which both Lewis and Osborne emphasise its unpredictable turns of phrase – and the brief G minor Allegretto, WoO61a, which almost divests itself of tonality altogether. All told, another hugely impressive disc from one of our greatest Beethovenians.