This release’s ‘masters in miniature’ subtext is a tad deceptive. The brief movements encompassing Schumann’s Carnaval and Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales, for instance, are seldom aired apart from their respective larger contexts, while the first and third of Schubert’s D935 Impromptus aren’t exactly quickies. What matters more are Julia Siciliano’s fine technique and natural musicality, even if some performances succeed more than others.

Her tempo fluctuations in the first and fifth of Beethoven’s Op 126 Bagatelles convey organic ebb and flow, while Nos 2 and 4 are suave on the surface yet somehow communicate the edginess of Beethoven’s sudden dynamic shifts. Compared to the ardency and diversity of character distinguishing some of the catalogue’s most memorable Schumann Carnaval interpretations (Nelson Freire’s recent version, for example), Siciliano often sounds inhibited, despite her keen attention to accents and imaginative touches of rubato. Still, there are felicitous moments. For example, ‘Pierrot’ is subject to the kind of tricky voicings that Alfred Cortot made famous, the right hand ever so slightly and deliciously lags behind the left hand at certain points in the ‘Valse allemande’, and ‘Aveu’ ambles out on a wistful stroll. Siciliano also plays the ‘forbidden’ ‘Sphinxes’ very straight; no Rachmaninov bass rumbles or Herbert Schuch ‘Schumann meets John Cage’ piano preparations.

Siciliano binds together Schubert’s opening F minor Impromptu with forthright narrative flow, and similarly animates the often deified and dragged-out one in A flat. While her smooth, sparely pedalled legato touch and controlled freedom hold interest in the B flat Theme and Variations, somehow the elaborate runs and tracery don’t take full wing, in contrast, say, to Horowitz’s unfettered poetry. No 4’s off-beat accents are all in place, yet the phrases transpire in square, predictable patterns: microphone shyness, perhaps?

The poised and polished Ravel performance only becomes truly memorable in the final two movements, where Siciliano’s tone gains shimmer and translucency. Lastly, the pianist’s masterful delicacy, harmonic motion and timing in ‘Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fut’ take the prize over her relatively matter-of fact renditions of the other two pieces in Debussy’s Images Book 2. Occasional thumps and studio noises aside, the vibrant and full-bodied sound is up to Blue Griffin’s high standards for piano reproduction.