I am tempted to set my morning alarm to go off with Bavouzet’s Haydn C major Sonata (HobXVI:1) – it’s guaranteed to fill the room with sunshine and youthful energy. The ninth and antepenultimate volume of the Frenchman’s survey continues to mix early (Nos 1 and 7), middle (Nos 26 and 29) and late (Nos 34 and 39). The results are consistently charming and delightful. As before, he does not regard the score as binding, but his interventions are always tasteful. Take the delicious embellishments he adds to the reprises in the Andante of HobXVI:1, never to the detriment of exquisite phrasing and voice-leading.

There’s an abundance of humour and buoyancy throughout. Sometimes it’s childlike wonder (as in the early sonatas); sometimes it’s exuberance and teasing, as in the mercurial first movement of the F major (No 29), or witty wizardry, to the point of spikiness, as in the palindromic Minuet of the A major (No 26), where Andsnes and Hamelin adopt a more poised, galant attitude (EMI/Warner, 5/99; Hyperion, 10/09). The bright sound of Bavouzet’s Yamaha gives the whole programme a sprightly glow, even in lyrical moments, while Brendel (Philips/Decca) and Hamelin prefer to contrast this with a more melancholic, introverted palette.

Consistent with previous volumes is Bavouzet’s practice of keeping the final bars ‘exclusively’ for the second repeats – ‘so as to allow them their full impact as the true ending’, as he puts it. The most extreme case is in the first movement of the E minor Sonata (No 34), where Bavouzet omits the 16 bar coda until the second repeat; the result sounds completely natural. Brendel’s is an equally convincing interpretation, without that omission but through gentle agogic and dynamic manipulation. The fragmentary nature of this movement, with its many pauses and rests, has provoked a fascinating variety of interpretative solutions, from Brendel’s lingering on the pedal (typical of his Haydn – 8/85), as if to suspend time, to Hamelin’s gradual fadings away as if winding down, to Bavouzet’s clean silences as if to leave a question mark. For the pause before the recapitulation Bavouzet even introduces a mini-recitative: in the manner of the oboe solo in the first movement of Beethoven’s Fifth, as he explains.

Unlike Bavouzet’s charming notes, Marc Vignal’s informative essay is not an easy read (at least not in the English translation), since the sonatas are discussed neither in the order they appear on the disc nor in strict chronological order. But all in all this is another remarkable addition to Bavouzet’s invaluable survey. Now I am just curious to know which new pose Bavouzet will strike beside Haydn’s bust for his next volume.