You can think of this impressive release as a two-disc illustration of its title or simply as a pair of satisfying, carefully programmed Liszt recitals. Either way, even the most ardent Lisztian will benefit from Kenneth Hamilton’s accompanying essay (the pianist is one of those rare mortals whose erudite, elegant prose is matched by his eloquence at the keyboard). As one of the leading authorities on Liszt and 19th-century performance practice, he sets out his stall thus: ‘I have tried as much as possible to imagine myself a student of Liszt, to absorb his performance advice … and to read his scores in a 19th-century (rather than “modern”) fashion.’

The first thing that strikes you is the beautifully voiced piano (Ulrich Gerhartz), a Steinway Model D (from Hamburg) recorded at Cardiff University School of Music by Stephen Plews and Philip Hardman. The mikes are close – there’s some unobtrusive pedal action – but not too close, so that when Hamilton lets rip, as Liszt frequently requests he does, the listener, though sitting only a few feet away, is suitably thrilled rather than unpleasantly overwhelmed.

The second thing you notice are the opening bars of ‘Funérailles’: the bells in the bass toll four times, rather than twice, a convincing addition. After the main subject in the left hand (you’d almost swear it was a cello playing), the accompanying chords in the A flat section are freely arpeggiated. The performance is expertly calibrated with thundering octaves for the ‘Tribute to Chopin’ section, capturing the structure and spirit of the piece as well as any I’ve ever heard. With a similarly impassioned and eloquent account of ‘Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude’, you have two of Liszt’s own favourites works one after the other in masterly readings.

Between two late works (Csárdas macabre and Nuages gris) Hamilton places the less familiar ‘Pensées des morts’ which, like ‘Funérailles’ and ‘Benédiction’, comes from the remarkable Harmonies poétiques et religieuses cycle. The great B minor Sonata closes disc 1 in another striking performance, this one informed by reference to the piano roll and projected edition of the piece by the Liszt pupil Arthur Friedheim (who also studied the work intensively with the composer). Tempos and tempo relationships and the composer’s ‘final thoughts’ on the sonata’s last page contribute to what Hamilton claims is ‘a perceptive difference to the flow of the piece as a whole’ (incidentally, I love his solution to the enigmatic notation of the final bar).

Disc 2 is no less rewarding, bookended by two more ardently delivered masterpieces, the Ballade No 2 and the transcription of Isoldens Liebestod. In between come 12 shorter and generally subdued works ranging from more of the spare, experimental late works to Liszt’s own transcription of his song ‘Die Lorelei’, in which Hamilton extends the central section that appeared in the revised final publication of the song but not in the transcription. In the middle of these comes a quite lovely account of Liszt’s version of Schubert’s G flat Impromptu, an audible influence on ‘Pensées des morts’, which here takes on a redemptive quality, followed almost seamlessly by the grief-laden Prelude on ‘Weinen, Klagen’ and ominous La lugubre gondola I.

Prima Facie is not a big label with a big publicity budget. There is a danger that this release could pass by without the attention it deserves. I cannot recommend it too highly.