Víkingur Ólafsson plays the opening Aria of the Goldberg Variations as a straightforward sarabande, giving no hint of his brisk and bouncy Var 1 up ahead. Var 2 evokes Glenn Gould’s détaché Bach pianism, plus fanciful accents and dynamic dips. Ditto for Var 3, the canon at the unison, where Ólafsson plays hob with voicings and points of emphasis. He begins Var 4 quietly, bringing up the volume on the ‘A’ section repeat. Like almost every pianist on disc who commences the cross-handed Var 5 at an optimistic prestissimo, save for Gould, Ólafsson’s rendition slows and thickens ever so slightly as the music unfolds. Var 6 is again détaché – indeed typewriterish – in contrast to a reposeful Var 7 that also bears Gould’s influence. The glib playfulness characterising Ólafsson’s dexterous hand-crossing in Var 8 differs from Var 9’s conversational eloquence and the firmness of the Var 10 fughetta’s rhythmic impetus.

Note the perky off-beat accents that Ólafsson brings out in his ebullient canon at the fourth (Var 12), Var 13’s timbral distinction between hands and the pianist’s rapid-fire control of Var 14’s giddy runs up and down the keyboard. In this context, Var 15’s muted and introspective demeanour proves a welcome point of respite. Why Ólafsson drastically underplays the French overture Var 16’s opening chord while rendering it as a downward arpeggio on the repeat is anyone’s guess. However, he resists joyriding through Var 17 and gives the impression of two separate keyboards at play. Tempo-wise, Var 18’s lilting swing arithmetically relates to Var 19’s fast basic tempo. The pianist effortlessly tosses off Var 20’s cascading triplets, with soft tension-generating dynamics. A unifying pulse links Vars 21 through 23, while a relatively measured canon at the octave (Var 24) sets the stage for a ‘Black Pearl’ Var 25 marked by the pianist’s reserve and simplicity. Then Ólafsson starts to let his hair down in the remaining variations, strutting out amazingly even trills in Var 28 and occasionally telegraphing Var 29’s broken chords to the point of short-changing a beat here and there. A broad and boisterous Quodlibet (Var 30) leads to a gentler, repeatless reiteration of the Aria.

Ólafsson’s charismatic and occasionally glib pianism doesn’t project the consistency of vision and cumulative design distinguishing Goldberg editions so radically different as those by Murray Perahia and Lang Lang, not to mention recent reference-worthy contenders by Alexandra Papastefanou, Lori Sims, Alexandre Tharaud and Klára Würtz. Still, his mastery communicates joy and holds your attention, abetted by DG’s ideal sound.