Perhaps we should not be surprised that so many pianists choose to record Chopin, thus inviting the toughest critical scrutiny and comparison. Yet this disc strikes me as an unwise undertaking. Felipe Browne is a Chilean pianist who possesses a fragile poetic flair, but for whom Chopin reveals more limitations than strengths. He is certainly hindered by a leaden, lifeless recorded sound, and a sonic image that is so close it has no room to breathe. But as so often, the playing itself seems to mirror these problems.

In the Ballades, the mainstay of the disc, Browne offers only a glimpse of the music’s glorious poetry and daring drama. His playing is impatient, and in his over-eagerness to press on he misses so many crucial details. The First Ballade is especially rushed, with rhythmic elisions and little musical shape. There is little variation of texture and dynamic, particularly in the Second Ballade where the opening Andantino is hardly sotto voce, and the thunderous outbursts are neither Presto, nor con fuoco, nor fortissimo; there is so little contrast that the music’s drama is lost. The opening of the F minor Ballade, too, hardly inspires a sense of wonder and expectation, while the notorious coda is under palpable stress. For more definitive interpretations, try Zimerman (DG, 10/88), Perahia (Sony, 12/94) or Ashkenazy’s 1964 recording (Decca, 5/00).

Sadly, things barely improve. The F minor Fantasie is undermined by an unsteady basic pulse, and Browne’s own narrative for this piece, printed in the booklet, adds little. The C minor Nocturne has a little more poetic bloom, but is still prosaic next to the eloquence of Pires or the passion of Argerich. I’m afraid that this disc is simply not competitive.