Herbert Schuch is a 27-year-old Romanian whose recording debut is of an intimidating mastery and stylistic assurance. Wherever you turn in the intricate mosaic of Schumann’s Kreisleriana you will hear playing impossible to fault and easy to praise. The opening upsurge is truly agitatissimo, as boldly coloured and inflected as the magically chiming central section is spun off with a special inwardness and insight. The sehr langsam and its following, flowing bewegter could hardly be phrased more eloquently; and if the pace of No 7 is wild, the control is absolute. Schuch is no less immaculate in Ravel’s Miroirs. Never for an instant do you hear the sort of diffidence or nonchalance that often passes for an authentic French style. ‘Alborada del gracioso’ is thrown off with the most concentrated verve and brilliance and the final ascent in ‘Noctuelles’ is a marvel of pianissimo delicacy and precision. Every chord in ‘La vallée des cloches’ is weighted and textured to perfection. Such playing has been faultlessly groomed for competition success (Schuch has won three international events in a year) and if there is an occasional suspicion that one is listening to an overly calculating if superlative pianist rather than a more spontaneous and acute artist, this is never less than a magnificent album. Oehms’s sound is admirable, though a passing reference in their accompanying essay to Karl Heinz Kammerling (Schuch’s professor) as a ‘pianist maker’ is an ugly reduction of a teacher’s function and purpose.