Reporting on the 2019 Tchaikovsky Competition in the August issue of International Piano that year, James Jolly hailed silver medallist Mao Fujita’s Rachmaninov Third for its ‘effortless sheen and gloss’ and its ‘unusual elegance’; a few years later, Harriet Smith praised his Mozart sonatas for their ‘affection’ (12/22). You wouldn’t expect a pianist like this to sear us with the Chopin Preludes, and he doesn’t. These are unemphatic, even reticent performances, delicate in their colouring, succulent in their legato, transparent in their textures – performances more notable for their sotto voce passages than for their fortissimo outbursts (the biting G sharp minor is an exception), more memorable for their bel canto sweetness than for their dramatic momentum. Whether you find the playing winsome or uneventful will depend on your taste; those who turn to Martha Argerich (DG, 4/78) or Ruth Slenczynska (DG Eloquence, 3/21) in this repertoire may find Fujita pale. But whatever your aesthetic preferences, it would be hard to deny the poise of the playing.

The Scriabin Preludes are more inward to begin with, and as you might expect, Fujita’s refinement pays even higher dividends here (check out the supple rubato of the D major, the silken tone of the B major or the flowing ardour of the E flat major). But he draws back from agitato markings, dulls the accents and softens the music’s profile. Compared to the kaleidoscopic expressiveness of Konstantin Semilakovs (ARS Produktion) or the nuanced detail of Christiane Karajeva (Gramola), Fujita’s playing sounds plain-spoken, even neutral. Soothing, most definitely; but never troubling.

The Chopin and Scriabin are often considered together (there’s a fine recording of both sets complete by Dina Yoffe on Acousence); Fujita throws in what he calls a little wasabi by adding a set, following the same tonal structure, by Akio Yashiro (1929 76). Yashiro went on to study with Messiaen but this charming work, composed when he was still in his mid-teens, looks steadfastly backwards. Despite its tints of Japanese music and its expected references to Chopin – Yashiro’s F major takes off from Chopin’s A minor – it’s primarily beholden to early 20th-century French composers, including Ravel (the E flat minor conjures up ‘La vallée des cloches’), Debussy and Satie, who serves as gondolier for the F sharp minor (Andante tempo di barcarolle). Fujita seems fully attuned to its variety, and the results are heart-warming.

In sum, a sporadically rewarding collection – but not an essential one.