Considering how germane Adolf von Henselt is to the literature and history of the piano, reviews of his music make remarkably few appearances in these pages. While not having the same genius, he is often described as the link between Weber and Hummel (whose pupil he was) and Chopin and Liszt (who greatly admired him and his ‘velvet paws’). From 1838, when he became court pianist in St Petersburg, until his death in 1889, he exercised enormous influence on the burgeoning and distinct Russian school of pianism. Balakirev, Rachmaninov and Scriabin are just three familiar names whose music owes a debt to Henselt.

His two sets of Études in all the major and minor keys have been scandalously neglected. So far as I know, they have only twice before been presented together: once, indifferently, by Daniel Graham on an old Musical Heritage Society LP (MHS1836) and, rather more splendidly in 2004, by Piers Lane (Hyperion, 2/05). Michael Ponti paired the Op 2 set with Henselt’s magnificent F minor Concerto, prescient glimpses of which can be heard in many studies from both sets. What has never been done – and this is the enchanting USP of Daniel Grimwood’s outstanding new recording – is to preface each study with one of Henselt’s own brief 24 preludes or Préambles.

The custom of preluding was a common (and, some insisted, essential) practice throughout the 19th century, one that only died out with the advent of recordings. Pianists were expected to ‘prelude’ short passages (either improvised or notated), which established or modulated into the key of the piece about to be played. The best examples I know are the live recordings of Josef Hofmann made in the 1930s, but I cannot recall a single example of it on a studio recording. Musically, artistically and historically, it works triumphantly, ‘providing an insight into how Henselt himself … might have played his music in public’, as Grimwood puts in in his booklet essay.

As to Grimwood’s performances, they are compelling, fearless and nuanced, bearing all the hallmarks of having been in his fingers for a long time. With its challenging left-hand extensions, passagework demanding lightning-fast reflexes and innate poetic sensibility, this is not music to be read off the rack. In these respects, Grimwood has the edge over Lane, and in the most famous of the studies – Op 2 No 6, ‘Si oiseau j’étais!’, for instance – shows him a clean pair of heels. Grimwood ends with Balakirev’s lovely Au jardin, dedicated to Henselt. Indeed, so fine is the playing and imaginative the concept that I would elevate this release to instant classic status. It has been beautifully recorded (producer/engineer Andrew Mellor – not to be confused with Gramophone’s own Andrew Mellor). In fact, my only quibble is the choice of cover illustration.

The two discs (38'50" and 46'12") are on the Edition Peters label, the music publisher that has just issued Daniel Grimwood’s new Urtext editions of the two sets. There really can be no further excuses for pianists to ignore Henselt.