Pollini first made his mark in Chopin, his gleaming sonority and imperious command a source of wonder to Rubinstein at the 1960 Warsaw Competition. Alas, such things are now of the past and Pollini’s return aged 70 to a much-beloved composer is for the most part a tired and sober-suited affair. True, something of his former voltage returns in the storming progression of the 12th Prelude but elsewhere, particularly in the more lyrically inclined Preludes, there is little sense of magic or wonder, with Chopin’s wildly fluctuating mood swings kept very much at arm’s length. The second Prelude, among Chopin’s most morbid utterances, is perversely sanitised, its sickness returned to health. No 10 lacks processional grandeur, while in the improvisatory charms of No 13 he is restrained to the point of plainness.

The four Op 30 Mazurkas, new to Pollini’s discography, show the same lack of freedom and how I missed the neurotic edge Horowitz brought to the astonishingly prophetic and far-sighted Op 27 C sharp minor Nocturne. Overall, this sounds like a labour of duty rather than love, leaving me to return to Pollini’s magisterial early DG disc of the Preludes, to Testament’s release of Pollini’s first recording of the Etudes (issued very much against the pianist’s will) and to memories of an unforgettable Queen Elizabeth Hall all-Chopin recital given at the start of Pollini’s stellar career. DG’s sound is as warm as it is brilliant.