What is the first name that comes to mind when you hear ‘nocturne’? No doubt Chopin. Next, perhaps, John Field, as his less sophisticated predecessor. Bookending his imaginatively chosen programme with these two composers, David Quigley offers a kaleidoscope of nocturnes across the ages, passing through Russia, Norway, America and his own native Ireland, represented not just by Field but also by contemporaries Philip Martin and Philip Hammond. Martin’s 1971 Oiche Ceoil is essentially a study for left hand with references to Copland in its open fifths. Composed especially for Quigley’s project, Hammond’s Is Im Bo Agus Eiriu, based on a 1792 Irish melody, is a delicate lullaby-like piece which, apart from its allusion to the flourish at the end of Chopin’s E flat Nocturne, Op 9 No 2, does not leave any particular imprint. More memorable, if still slightly predictable, is Lowell Liebermann’s neo Romantic offering.

From the young Debussy’s echoes of Liszt and Fauré to Tchaikovsky’s signature melancholy and Respighi’s feverish longing, Quigley’s selection of repertoire is refreshing. This last and Liszt’s ‘Les cloches de Genève’ are my personal favourites. But in all these pieces there are more textural layers and more scope for sustaining dramatic tension than Quigley finds. It may be unfair to cite Ignaz Friedman’s hors concours 1936 recording of the Chopin Op 55 No 2 (Naxos Historical), but his is the kind of sovereign freedom of shaping and phrasing that saves this Nocturne – unusual for its lack of a central contrasting section – from monotony. And, for an interpretation that gets to the heart of Liszt’s Byronic epigraph (‘I live not in myself but I become / Portion of that around me’), look no further than Lazar Berman (DG).