Previously lauded for his 12-disc Reger survey (Thorofon, A/02), Markus Becker issued his first Haydn album four years ago. Now the signs are that this will be an extended series. That first disc bore neither a number nor a title, though it did ascribe to each sonata a poetic identity (majestic, angular, and so on). This time Becker’s concept has moved from contrast towards uniformity, with a programme of minor-key works broken up only by the E flat Variations (HobXVII:3). Unfortunately, neither the character of the music, nor the recording conditions under Covid, nor Haydn’s supposedly solitary life (only a half-truth) properly justifies the album’s title.

Becker’s own approach falls somewhere between pensiveness and playfulness, never committing fully to either. His tone has a tendency towards bluntness, even harshness in forte, and a lack of subtlety in this area is scarcely compensated for by the agitated push and pull of his rubato. Compare his F minor Variations (HobXVII:6) with Brendel’s (Philips, 12/86) to hear how tone and timing can combine to truly expressive effect.

While there are some touching melancholic moments (as in the opening movement of the C minor Sonata, HobXVI:20) and some thoughtful characterisations (as in the individual variations of the E flat set), nothing quite blooms or surprises in the way that the finest performances do. The mercurial sauciness that Bavouzet finds in the two-movement G minor Sonata (HobXVI:44 – Chandos, 7/11) or the brash contrasts Hamelin introduces to the C minor (Hyperion, 8/12) may not be to all tastes but at least they have a strong identity.

Becker’s alternative branding as a jazz virtuoso creates expectations of individualism that are not delivered: even the repeats here are dutiful copies rather than spontaneous reimaginings. In a well-stocked market he needs more than fanciful titles in order to compete.