As we enter double figures in Hyperion’s distinguished series of transcriptions of Bach for piano, we are reminded of how the unknown cantata oeuvre was drip-fed to composers who subscribed to the Bach-Gesellschaft. This ambitious publication started with cantatas BWV1-10 in 1851 and, as Nigel Simeone reminds us in his compelling essay, the 100th wasn’t reached until 24 years later. That the first 10 published works luckily contain such brilliance and diversity could only have accelerated Bach’s reputation and enabled the choral works – St Matthew Passion aside – to be widely disseminated.

Since the art of transcription often represents something between awakening and homage, Nadejda Vlaeva offers through Bach another dimension to Saint-Saëns, that seemingly inexhaustible Renaissance man. His choice of the Sinfonia from BWV29 may not surprise but to enter into the dramatic, heady and image-laden rhetorical worlds of BWV3 and 8 is a testament to the composer’s profound realisation of Bach’s cantatas as the solar plexus of his work. In this regard, Saint-Saëns was a discerning pioneer.

As a protégée of Lazar Berman, Vlaeva rarely disappoints in matters of accomplished pianism, with plenty of that epic physical presence of her mentor, most obvious in the full-blooded and knotty heroics of Isidore Philipp’s transcription of Bach’s own tinkering with Vivaldi. The soft poetics of chiming funeral bells in the opening movement of BWV8 are exquisitely poised and the voicings in the reborn solo violin works generously yielding yet never sentimental. Vlaeva relishes the arranger’s lucid classicism in conveying the essence of Bach’s singular voice.

During this series, one recalls the devilish and often highly personal techniques of Rummel, Reger, Feinberg and Siloti. BWV35 is a rare moment of Vlaeva caught in the headlights rather too often but this young pianist sits worthily alongside the clutch of fine players who have illuminated this brilliant literature of Bachiana. What else has Hyperion up its sleeve?