What’s not to admire about Nelson Freire’s brilliantly virtuoso, heartfelt and utterly alive Beethoven interpretations? They’re pianistically oriented in terms of tone colour and symmetry, yet never feel the least bit four-square, and convey vivid communicative immediacy, even when Freire tends to hurry in hot anticipation of a dramatic build that lies just a few steps ahead. Freire takes the Waldstein first movement’s Allegro con brio directive to scintillating heart, as the sweeping scales jump out of your loudspeakers like white lightning and the development section’s relentless left-hand arpeggios gain urgency through unusual accentuations. He also generates plenty of tonal magic from the Rondo’s unconventional long pedal markings and galvanic momentum in the prestissimo coda. Some may prefer a more austere, contained Adagio molto, yet one could make a case for Freire’s unfolding animation as being true to this music’s intended introductory function.

In Les adieux, Freire fuses Solomon’s incredibly poised fingerwork and Schnabel’s passionate sweep into his own individualised tour de force. Other Op 110 performances may offer more breadth and spirituality, yet Freire’s carefully gauged tempo relationships in the hard-to-pace Fugue pay no less expressive dividends. Also notice that Freire, like Claudio Arrau, takes trouble to make the first movement’s rapid left-hand figurations clear and distinct. The Moonlight’s Adagio sostenuto is beautifully sung out, while the Allegretto’s varied articulations sound as how they read on the page. So do those of the finale. You won’t find Kovacevich’s shock and awe, but rather a masterclass in steady cumulation that should reveal more with each listening.