In an interesting appendage to the main booklet note (an excellent essay on the Caprices by Jeremy Nicholas that has taught me a great deal), recording producer Andrew Keener reminisces about ‘Paganini in lockdown’, the sessions having taken place in London’s Henry Wood Hall during May and June last year. Keener reports how Alina Ibragimova pledged to take the opportunity to do ‘some serious work’ on these widely variegated Caprices. And believe me, neither he nor she were joking.

Here we have a recording that is the equivalent of ‘being there’: the sound is extraordinarily present (thanks also to recording engineer Simon Eadon) – we even encounter what appears to be a touch of creative sound theatre, at the close of Caprice No 18 in C, where Ibragimova seems to wistfully wander away from the mics. And there’s the soloist’s acute micromanagement of virtually every note, with playful accents, dynamics ranging from ppp to fff, sometimes to shocking effect (in No 24, the most famous Caprice of all, at 3'42", from quiet whistling to fierce, swingeing chords), generally sparing vibrato and keenly etched characterisation.

Sometimes the effect is pure magic, the ethereal trilling of No 6 in G minor, played very quietly, being a case in point. No 13 in B flat is commonly nicknamed ‘The Devil’s Laughter’ (which is what it sounds like on Thomas Zehetmair’s recording), whereas Ibragimova more suggests the Devil’s leer, with lasciviously drooling double-stops. Thereafter the abrasive second half suggests a rude comeuppance – though once humbled, the Devil returns as if with his tail between his legs. And then there’s the D major Caprice No 20, with its D-string drone, so chaste with Ibragimova; and yet turn to James Ehnes and we encounter what seems more like a loving gaze.

Ibragimova’s principal strength, aside from an all-facilitating technique, is her amazing imagination, an ability to turn each individual piece into a vivid narrative. Her mastery of tone and texture, fantasy and at times wit will enthral, but because she packs each piece with so much incident, following her for more than, say, half a dozen pieces at a time is (pleasantly) exhausting. I couldn’t possibly not recommend this set; but if you’d prefer to listen to Paganini Caprices at a single sitting (Ibragimova’s set clocks in at a generous 104'29") then I suggest either Ehnes, Ning Feng or Zehetmair. Among oldies, the fabulous, late Ivry Gitlis (Decca) is, in terms of chutzpah, more ‘the Devil incarnate’ than any other player in living memory.