‘Intégrale des Sonates’ is the title on the box. Not so. Georges Pludermacher offers 11 of the 12 complete sonatas (he excludes D459 in E), and three of the ten unfinished ones. What is important, though, is how he measures up to the task of traversing a daunting compendium, one that ranges from relatively uncomplicated early works to those that reflect internalised turbulence.

Manifestations of the later characteristic are to the fore in D845. The first movement in particular runs a gamut of states that are felt through a wide dynamic spectrum, and through themes whose contrasts, though mostly unmarked, need to be acknowledged by changes within the basic tempo. Pludermacher is unwilling to bend to that which is implied rather than stated, and plots a course that offers only a little flexibility. Nor does he play very softly, which short-changes the many mysterious moments. As Wilhelm Kempff said, ‘Schubert reveals his innermost secrets pianissimo’.

Pludermacher often lets in daylight. It might not be entirely his fault, because the piano is shallow-toned and closely miked. The acoustic as reproduced doesn’t lend itself to fine dynamic shading, so it adds a degree of starkness to a generally straightforward interpretative style. There are benefits to such a stance, as, for instance, in the opening movement of D960. It is marked Molto moderato, an instruction that is less explicit than most and therefore tends to elicit fussy playing from some musicians. Not from Pludermacher, whose undeviating feel for structure delineates the logic of the notes. But he limits his attempts to decode their expressive intent; his subjective vision appears constrained. The finale of D894 is another example of how he holds back; though he illustrates its shifting moods, his exposé is largely a commentary on what is happening rather than a personal exploration of subtexts.

There is, nevertheless, much to admire. Pludermacher phrases artistically, is never clumsy and never smudges passages. His pianism is of supreme quality, as is his scholastic skill in completing the Menuetto and last movement of D840. But he doesn’t do something similar for the second part of Variation 1 in the slow movement of D845 by conjecturally filling in four bars that both Paul Badura-Skoda and Howard Ferguson believe were accidentally omitted by the engraver.

In sum, this set will satisfy readers who prefer a distanced approach to Schubert. Those who want more will turn to András Schiff. His consummate keyboard skill allied to a temperament attuned to the volatile nature of the music, makes for a probing response that goes a long way beyond the printed page.