One of the great pianists of our time, Grigory Sokolov remains a shadowy figure. His decision to release only records of live performances means that he is sadly under-represented in the catalogue, while, on stage, his bulky figure is oblivious to all but the musical matters in hand. So special thanks for this Naïve issue which, in a Paris recital, captures his magisterial glory in every gesture (his articulation combined with massive shoulder strength).

His Beethoven Op 14 sonatas are freely and romantically inflected yet without a hint of exaggeration or excess, and if his Pastoral Sonata is gravely unfolded, its frequent Allegro indications largely ignored, with little time for more traditional insouciance – it is wholly serious. Komitas’s folk-inspired minimalism could hardly receive greater care, and in Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata Sokolov is lost in thought one minute, firing on all cylinders the next, displaying a blistering Russian mastery.

Among the encores, Sokolov’s Mazurkas are as deeply felt as even the most ardent Chopin lover could wish, his Couperin pieces brilliantly alive to their bustle and charm, while his Bach/Siloti B minor Prelude may have reminded his audience of his great compatriot, Emil Gilels, who invariably ended his recitals with this haunting, Russian 19th-century view of Bach. No notes about music or pianist, but a packed Paris audience applauding Sokolov to the heavens tells its own story. Make no mistake, this is the real thing.