Way back in 1964, at the outset of his career, the Swiss pianist and harpsichordist, Jorg Ewald Dahler, won first prize in the Munich Competition. This has always been recognized as a contest for musicians rather than mere virtuosos, and much in Dahler's playing here reaffirms him as a caring Schubertian with a keen sense of wonder. But there are things I would question. To begin with, the extraordinary difference between his and Badura-Skoda's timing for the eight pieces is not just due to Dahler's punctiliousness over repeats, but also to the more leisurely tempo he so often adopts in pursuit of romantic expression. Sometimes, as in the main section of No. 2 in A flat D935 and still more in that sets concluding F minor piece, this leisure does the music no good at all. In some other contexts I think he could have vindicated his choice through the simple expedient of tauter rhythm. Often his flexibility is too Schumannesque to sound stylish. Certainly Badura-Skoda (Astree), with his more urgent flow, never allows any melody to sag. You could argue that Dahler's deliberation allows every semiquaver to tell, even in the murmuring accompaniment of No. 3 in G flat, D899 where Badura-Skoda lets the notes melt into each other. But at this point the recording itself has to be considered, for Dahler's liberal use of the pedal in what sounds like a very resonant venue results in a rather swimmy kind of sound. Badura-Skoda—as yet unavailable on CD—emerges brighter and clearer even if his Graf piano of 1824 sounds more wiry and clangy than Dahler's 1820 Broadmann. I liked this Broadmann, for its wide dynamic range, i.e. the delicacy of its pianissimo no less than the fullness and richness of which its middle register is capable. But for the moment I'd advise CD collectors to forget about instrumental authenticity and take their pick from Schubertians like Brendel, Perahia and Lupu.'