When Alexey Stanchinsky died in mysterious circumstances in 1914 at the age of 26, he left behind a remarkable body of piano works that abound with creative potency, passion and idiomatic flair. More pianists are now exploring this repertoire, including Peter Jablonski and Witold Wilczek, whose respective releases share the E flat minor Sonata, E major Nocturne, three 1907 Preludes and two Mazurkas.

The 1906 Sonata owes much to the declamatory fervency of early Scriabin, yet sometimes anticipates Szymanowski’s lush chromaticism. Given Jablonski’s affinity for Russian Romantics, his sense of sweep, wide dynamic range, intelligently contoured inner voices and ripely singing tone do not surprise. Although Wilczek’s performance is of shorter duration, it is less contrasted and colourful, and consequently sounds longer. Despite Wilczek’s stricter tempo for the D flat Mazurka, the music dances more via Jablonski’s piquant rubato. Yet Wilczek’s stronger emphasis of the G sharp minor Mazurka’s accents and dissonances and Jablonski’s gentler, more yielding understatement hold equal validity.

In the gorgeous Nocturne, Jablonski focuses on floating the melodies while the chordal accompaniment murmurs in subtle support. Wilczek brings both hands more fully to the fore. One could say that Jablonski channels Fauré, while Wilczek is Brahmsian. Likewise, the first and third 1907 Preludes are heavy and brooding in Wilczek’s hands, as opposed to Jablonski’s conversational transparency.

The remainder of Jablonski’s programme proves equally distinctive. Although Ekaterina Derzhavina (Profil, 5/17) and Olga Solovieva (Grand Piano) have excellently rendered excerpts from the set of five 1907-12 Preludes, somehow these disparate pieces benefit more when programmed sequentially and cyclically, as Jablonski does here. In particular, he captures the second Prelude’s plaintive, hymnlike qualities well. Dating from Stanchinsky’s 15th year, the Three Songs without Words also showcase Jablonski’s eloquent lyricism. He makes a compelling case for approaching the third piece with understated introspection; it radically differs from Derzhavina’s faster, more volatile perspective. The A minor Variations also stand out for how the pianist conveys both delicacy and rhythmic incisiveness.

With their wide scope of ideas and unpredictable mood swings, the Twelve Sketches, Op 1, exemplify Stanchinsky’s genius in microcosm. Jablonski penetrates each piece’s character like a versatile actor rapidly switching roles before one’s eyes. For example, his acerbic delivery reveals how uncannily No 5 presages Bartók and Prokofiev, or how No 10’s modal leanings and registral extremes foreshadow elements of mid-20th-century piano works by Roy Harris and Vincent Persichetti.

Next to Jablonski’s masterly authority, Wilczek’s unevenness becomes all the more apparent. His sombre traversal of the Prelude in the Lydian Mode doesn’t match Vladimir Feltsman’s animated and imaginative account (Nimbus); ditto his slow and austere G minor Fugue compared to Roger Woodward’s altogether quicker and shapelier version (Celestial Harmonies). Wilczek’s Canon in B minor transpires on one textural and emotional level when compared alongside the bracing Solovieva. And as the Canon-Prelude in A major’s polyphony ponderously unfolds, one recalls the clarity and fluency of Thomas Adès’s interpretation on his 20th-century piano music CD (EMI/Warner, A/00). Ondine scores over Dux for sound quality; both releases include informative annotations.