This is DVD usage at its most bog-standard. Man discovered seated at piano. Man plays piano (choice of six shots). Man finishes playing, gets up, bows, exits. Fade to black. There are no establishing shots of the audit-orium or artist. The presence of an audience comes as a surprise and are so laudably quiet that they might as well be at a séance. Judging from their dutiful applause at the end of each item, perhaps they feel they have been.

The lank, long-haired man with the saturnine features and untidy moustache before them was one of the greatest pianists in history. Michelangeli, though, was not a pianist whose unique qualities are enhanced by DVD. I sometimes wonder why pianists with temperaments like his want to play in public when they give every impression that they would rather be anywhere and doing anything else than playing the piano in front of other people. The audience is unnecessary and the cameras are irrelevant. What an enigmatic man! Look out for the sardonic, almost disdainful expression as he bows at the end of the recital; and the private joke he enjoys at the repeat of the first section of Ballade No 3.

The music-making is stern and serious, and his fidelity to the composer’s instructions is fastidious. I listened to long stretches of the programme with my eyes closed, the better to relish the beautiful sounds that Michelangeli, with his preternaturally long fingers, conjures from the superbly-voiced Steinway. He is often (and rightly in my opinion) accused of being emotionally detached from the music.

The Beethoven sonatas for all their technical perfection, exemplary phrasing and masterly handling of long paragraphs, are delivered on a single expressive level. But I urge you to try the second movement of the Schubert and the final Brahms Ballade. In these two movements especially he seems very much involved. Truly great piano playing. Still, when all is said and done, while Michelangeli’s artistry commands the highest admiration, it is difficult to feel affection for it.