Tired of the strains and stresses of her former and extraordinary career, Martha Argerich now takes up annual residence in Lugano where, surrounded by her friends and colleagues, she oversees a serious of concerts, happy for the most part to share the limelight. Most prodigiously gifted of all pianists, she inspires others with her presence, and many of these performances are of an opulent and overwhelming glory.

Yet if I was to pick one instance of the electricity and expressive freedom encountered on these three CDs it would have to be Argerich’s recreation of Chopin’s First Concerto, one of the few concertos she continues to play in public. For her, nothing remains the same and, fired by setting and circumstance, she has rarely sounded more vehement, personal or beguiling. As for the finale, I doubt whether it has ever been played with a more riotous or consuming brilliance in its entire history. Then there is Schnittke’s Piano Quintet, where a quartet is joined by Lilya Zilberstein. Together they make every note of this unnerving masterpiece speak with a ferocious concentration and intensity. The desolating In tempo di valse is unforgettable, and so, too, is a finale where Schnittke’s chill menace is only partially resolved. Here, innocence unites with an altogether more clouded state of mind.

Zilberstein also features in the elegant virtuoso tracery of Chopin’s Op 73 Rondo for two pianos, where her partner is Sergei Edelmann. Yet once again it is Argerich whose incomparable vividness dominates. What rich eloquence she achieves, together with Gautier Capuçon, in Schumann’s Adagio and Allegro for cello and piano, how fleet her response to the hallucinatory play of light and shade in the same composer’s First Violin Sonata (with Renaud Capuçon). Then there are piano quintets by Granados and Korngold, and further music by Brahms, Stravinsky, Bartók and Gershwin, performed as to the manner born. All in all, these discs are a reminder of a unique, ever-formidable and enchanting artist.