Certain performers seem to find a Being John Malkovich-like secret portal to the brain of every composer they play. Marc-André Hamelin is certainly among them. And when the brain is that of the maverick of the Bach dynasty, Carl Philipp Emanuel, we can expect extraordinary things.

With music that is rooted in his father’s legacy yet looks as far ahead as Brahms and Schumann, CPE is one of those figures who challenges the linear view of music history. Hamelin’s two generously filled discs make a strong case not only for the composer’s historic significance but also for the modern piano’s suitability to his limitless flights of imagination and unsettling juxtapositions. In this Hamelin joins Danny Driver (Hyperion) and Mikhail Pletnev (DG) among the most distinguished of modern exponents.

Where parallel listening is possible, the differences in approach only highlight the infinite variety of the works themselves. Take, for example, the E minor Sonata, H281, where Pletnev’s powdered-and-wigged stylisation is as delightful as Hamelin’s greater willingness to allow the music’s playfulness to do the job on its own. Hamelin and Pletnev excel equally in chameleon-like changes of colour and touch, tailored to the character of each piece and the detail of each phrase. With Hamelin especially, this quality, in a highly contrasting and rich programme, makes for an exhilarating illusion of the music being created on the spot. This is no less true of the heartfelt expressiveness of the sighing motifs in the Rondo Farewell to my Silbermann Clavier and the Couperin-like articulations in L’Herrmann.

Alongside sonatas and rondos, Hamelin also samples fantasias and character pieces. Highly improvisatory and free, Bach’s fantasies are summations of his inventiveness and his demands on the performer’s brilliance and empathy, from the mischievous sudden arrests in the Presto di molto of the C major Fantasia (H291) to the majestic Freie Fantasie in F sharp minor (H300), which seemingly reaches beyond Sturm and Drang all the way to the 19th-century Romantics. This aspect is where the constraints of the harpsichord, and even of the ‘tangent piano’ so beautifully deployed by Alexei Lubimov, become most obvious. Still, no one interested in this repertoire should miss the famous Solfeggio (or Solfegietto, as it is popularly known) as strummed with cimbalom-like fluidity by Lubimov’s instrument. Not even Hamelin can recreate the full piquancy of this effect.

Among the character pieces in Hamelin’s selection, a highlight is the wacky L’Aly Rupalich (H95), brought to life here with great zest and wit. Is it possible to listen to this piece without moving your body? I doubt it. This is surely an 18th-century equivalent to hip hop. Throughout the programme, Hamelin’s delight and relish are highly infectious. The informative booklet essay is by Mahan Esfahani, himself a seasoned CPE Bach exponent on the harpsichord. In short, I cannot think of a better introduction to CPE Bach on the modern piano than these two joyous discs.