I last encountered Simon Callaghan in Vol 76 of Hyperion’s Romantic Piano Concerto series playing Rheinberger and Scholz (8/18). This new recording of concertos by Carl Reinecke has, by way of competition, a complete set from the early 1990s by Klaus Hellwig (CPO). Though the three concertos included here span 40 years, there’s no discernible development in style from the First of 1860 to the Fourth of 1900, the principal influences being Schumann and Mendelssohn.

The First is set in train by an orchestral tutti full of Romantic yearning, before the piano signals its arrival with glitteringly effective writing. Particularly imaginative is the concerto’s slow movement, from whose opening bars emerges a solo violin answered by cello (for a moment seeming to conjure the lustrous slow movement of Goldmark’s Violin Concerto), with the piano joining to create a trio texture – as Tchaikovsky would do in his Second Concerto. The intimacy of the writing, however, is somewhat short-changed here, with the pianist paying little heed to the espressivo and dolcissimo markings and the two string players sounding too recessed. The CPO account is more of a meeting of three equals. The finale surges in true Schumannesque fashion, and Callaghan is equal to the task technically, though I wanted more differentiation of mood between, say, the solo starting at 1'02" and the following Poco più tranquillo.

The Second Concerto opens with a brief piano solo before the orchestra wrests control from it, a blazing crescendo underlined by timpani, potently done here. But with the piano’s reappearance there seems to be a certain hesitance to the dotted chordal theme, and once we reach a more cajoling idea (2'36"), it doesn’t sound either pianissimo or misterioso. The restricted dynamic range is something of a hindrance to these interpretations as a whole, despite the soloist being placed well forwards in the mix.

Callaghan begins the charming Andantino with more finesse than Hellwig but the wind response sounds underpowered here, the balance being better on the CPO set. And as the piano line burgeons into ardent melody (marked con espressione) it’s a little bit foursquare, though the tender writing (from 2'40") is nicely judged and the solo cello followed by violin are beautifully shaped. For the finale, we’re back in Schumannesque mode, this time a galumphing triple-time dance; it’s played with infectious energy, and if it fails to make a great impression, that’s more down to the music than the interpreters.

Callaghan and co choose a markedly faster tempo for the opening Allegro of the Fourth than on the CPO version, which sounds somewhat dogged by comparison. But again, even where the piano is accompanying, the orchestra sounds recessed. Here, too, the highlight is the slow movement, a charmingly salon‑like Adagio ma non troppo, the players responding effectively to its lyrical ease. It’s followed by – you guessed it – another high-spirited movement that has energy if not memorability, with dashing scales to end.

Above all, I could have done with more persuasive characterisation. But Jeremy Nicholas’s expert notes need no special pleading.