The album cover shows Sean Shibe shorn of his luxuriant locks; photos inside catch him in the act itself, wielding clippers. It’s all very lockdown. Thankfully, unlike the biblical Samson’s, Shibe’s powers appear unimpaired.

‘Camino’ is the Scottish guitarist’s first recording for Pentatone and follows a string of acclaimed releases for Delphian on which he explores music as diverse as John Dowland’s Forlorn Hope Fancy (9/17) and Steve Reich’s Electric Counterpoint (A/18). This time his attention turns for the most part to the music of that most elegant and introverted of Spanish Catalan composers, Federico Mompou.

Shibe’s ability to command a wide dynamic range within a relatively restricted compass naturally comes to the fore. And though his monk-like appearance may sway the imagination somewhat, his exquisite sense of space and unfolding invites comparison with late conductor Sergiu Celibidache’s Zen-influenced performance practice.

The album’s title is a reference to Mompou’s homage to Santiago de Compostela, Suite compostelana. I can’t recall ever hearing the opening Preludio beginning like this: lontano ahead of a crescendo leading to such fluidity and firmness. Nor, at 38 seconds into ‘Cuna’, such an exquisitely veiled, whispered quality.

This ability to make you really lean in and listen is another feature of Shibe’s playing you’ll encounter passim. Take the morendo at the end of Satie’s Gnossienne No 1. Or the pianistic rendering of the harmonics in Ravel’s Pavane pour une infante défunte.

The recital opens not with a whisper, though, but with a bang. Falla’s ‘Danza del molinero’ is a perfect example of that aforementioned sense of space, coupled with confident shifts in dynamics, tone colour and dramatic momentum. It is the ideal complement to Falla’s Homenaje, an impeccable performance of which is also included. There are innumerable other riches on ‘Camino’, a release that considerably enhances Shibe’s reputation for having one of the most discriminating ears in the business.