I particularly warmed to Gillham’s cushioned, rounded tone, more engaging than Ólafsson’s refined, airy detachment: there is not a single bar in the 19 tracks that doesn’t sound lovely. He is a storyteller, as is obvious from the opening Fugue in E major (No 9 from Book 2 of The Well-Tempered Clavier), ‘Busonified’ by Percy Grainger with octave doublings and other devices. That impression is reinforced by the Bach Rachmaninov Suite from the E major Violin Partita, as witty and sprightly in the outer movements as it is elegant and knowing in the Gavotte, and a far cry from Daniil Trifonov’s recent drab offering (DG, 11/18). Indeed, many of these performances must bear comparison with famous recordings of the past by the likes of Rachmaninov, Myra Hess and Dinu Lipatti. Gillham comes up trumps every time.

I also like the way he lightens the tone and uses less pedal in the two original Bach pieces in the programme (Fantasia and Fugue in A minor, BWV904, originally for harpsichord, and Capriccio on the Departure of his Beloved Brother, BWV992). At the other end of the scale, so to speak, and using the piano’s full resources, is the mighty Bach-Busoni Chaconne in what is unquestionably among the best performances on disc. For one thing Gillham is at pains to let you hear every note of Busoni’s inflation (including small details as, for instance, the three bars of left-hand semiquaver triplets at 9'20", rarely as well defined as this) without compromising the overall arc of the piece. It is a cohesive whole with a strong narrative sense in which the frequent changes of pulse and tempo simply flow organically from one to another.

Another reason for warming to this young Australian-British pianist is because in the few pieces here which your reviewer himself plays (Sheep may safely graze, Siciliano, Jesu, joy), Gillham plays them in exactly the same way – or at least exactly the way your reviewer imagines he plays them.