I was blown away by Lukas Geniušas’s fantastical storytelling in his Prokofiev recording (4/19). For his new all-Chopin programme, my reaction is rather more ambivalent. The Lithuanian-Russian pianist delves first into the galaxy of personalities and emotions of the Mazurkas. His selection goes chronologically, covering the full span of Chopin’s career, thoroughly exploring every little corner along the way, shaping every gesture, chiselling every phrase and colouring every voice to the point where we approach the fine line between liveliness and aggression, between the stylish and the stylised. Geniušas’s insistent characterisation makes each Mazurka a high-definition tableau, reinforced by a sound quality that borders on ferocity in the treble.

That’s one way of doing it, for sure. But for the joyful Op 17 No 1, for instance, I would prefer the graceful elegance of Nikita Magaloff (Decca Eloquence, 9/57) over Geniušas’s Oktoberfest heartiness. In fact, for me the essence of the Mazurkas is nowhere more truthfully revealed than in Ryszard Bakst’s recordings (which somehow never made it to CD, though they are available on YouTube): this is Chopin spoken in the first person and in the mother tongue.

Geniušas’s command of large-scale structure is then put to the test in the B minor Sonata. There is much to enjoy here: from his masterly orchestration of the first movement, via the sparkling tracery of the Scherzo, to a soft-lens dreamland in the Largo, with some imaginative Impressionistic pedalling. If prolonged reverie is how you conceive this movement you’ll find even greater daring (not to say indulgence) in Pletnev’s live 1979 Moscow concert, recently reissued on Melodiya; and for a truly heart-stopping effect look no further than Argerich’s breathtaking account (DG) – just listen to those menacing bass notes as they keep undercutting the serenity. Geniušas’s finale is a very different affair from the demonic energy that drives Argerich’s, in that it has total assurance and never threatens to run off the rails. Nor is there any shortage of dramatic moments in either of the outer movements.

Still, the same tendency as in the Mazurkas towards over-expressiveness from moment to moment occasionally obscures the overall drama, and once again the metallic piano sound does him and the music no favours. For ideal warmth of sound, expression and colour it’s hard to beat Nelson Goerner on his EMI Debut disc.