Charlotte Hu, previously known as Ching-Yun Hu, makes her first recording under her new name. It’s a Liszt recital combining original works and transcriptions spanning five decades, and she’s planned the programme order scrupulously. Although in different venues she (and her publicists) have explained the sequence in inconsistent ways, the overall spirit of her album seems clear: it’s a response to the loneliness generated by the pandemic, one she hopes will provide comfort for listeners. True, she does shatter the atmosphere by including Liszt’s terrifying transcription of Schubert’s ‘Erlkönig’; but she quickly restores the mood with his adaptation of Robert Schumann’s ardent love song to Clara, ‘Widmung’, in order to soften the blow. ‘I did not want the child [in ‘Erlkönig’] to die’, she says in a YouTube announcement of the release. ‘I wanted the child to find solace.’ All of this music is technically demanding; but with one exception (more on that later), she resists the temptation to show off.

Hu’s playing is extremely persuasive. Most immediately striking is her digital control. The music is laden with repeated notes and tremolos, but in her hands it never congeals. It’s also richly decorated, but she keeps the filigree pristine and well balanced, always audible but never overbearing. Hu’s interpretative instincts are sound as well. Her dynamics are artfully shaded (check out ‘La leggierezza’); her handling of colour (including harmonic colour) is expert; and she often invests her rhythms with the slightest touch of jazzy swing in a way that may make you smile. Overall, an unusually affectionate release.

Any missteps? There are a few places – for instance in ‘Jeux d’eau’ – where the longer span gets lost as the music turns static; there are a few moments, in the most challenging passages, where there’s some slight strain. To my ears, though, the most serious drawback is the decision to round out the recital with the exhibitionist Rhapsodie espagnole. Hu says she included it to represent the more sensational side of Liszt’s art. But why? It’s a flamboyant interloper in this more refined company – and it sounds doubly out of place in this sober reading, which lacks the continuity and the light-hearted pizzazz that it requires. In the aftermath, little of the earlier comfort remains. Still, a splendid introduction to a talented pianist.