Yet another vividly colour-coded set of the Ysaÿe Solo Sonatas, music that seems to have sidled up alongside Bartók’s late solo masterpiece in the popularity stakes, and not without good musical reasons. Ysaÿe’s range of invention, his teeming imagination, reflects both his prowess as a performer and his potent creativity as a composer. All six works date from the early 1920s and seem acutely reflective of what were at the time contemporary musical trends, whether Korngold (in No 3, dedicated to Enescu) or the Ravel of Tzigane (in No 6, written for Manuel Quiroga).

As to the plethora of available versions, Jack Liebeck is a fair match for the best of them, including Frank Peter Zimmermann (Warner, 1993 94), James Ehnes (Onyx, 6/21), Alina Ibragimova (Hyperion, 7/15 – both she and Liebeck are keenly responsive to the wonderful Allemande from Sonata No 4), Thomas Zehetmair (ECM, 1/05), Leonidas Kavakos (BIS, 1999) and many others. But Liebeck has a trump card up his sleeve that the others don’t have, namely the beautiful Poème élégiaque in D minor, Op 12 (with pianist Daniel Grimwood) that Ysaÿe wrote at the turn of the last century, with either piano or violin accompaniments, which was dedicated to Fauré and served as an inspiration for Chausson’s equally rapt Poème. This substantial piece is placed in the context of the present programme between the Third and Fourth Solo Sonatas, which makes for a welcome contrast in texture.

As to individual performances, in the Bachian opening of the G minor First Sonata, beyond the first chord, Liebeck darts below the line then builds to some impressive arpeggios. No 3 is marginally broader than his earlier recording (Quartz, 11/04 – part of a mixed programme mostly of music with piano) but no less intense. No 2’s recollection of Bach’s E major Partita contrasts deathly quiet with dramatic assertion (more so than does, say, Kavakos), while the troublesome ‘Dies irae’ motif makes its point with a vengeance (as do the Furies in the finale). No 5’s ‘Rustic Dance’ goes with a real swing: here as elsewhere on the album Liebeck’s playing is both characterful and polished. Manuel Quiroga’s Spanish-infused Sixth Sonata enjoys immaculately blended chords and a beguiling habanera towards the end.

Throughout the programme you sense a musical thoroughbred on a roll, loving each variegated journey that Ysaÿe takes him on with no thrown hurdles. In that he’s the equal of Ehnes and Zimmermann, though Zehetmair has more devilment about him, while Leonid Kavakos favours a purer stance. Liebeck, though, nails the personality of each piece as securely as anyone and his recordings are excellent.