Admirable as it is to have Alkan’s 48 Esquisses‚ together with his ‘Laus Deo’ postlude‚ available on disc‚ their musical worth is hardly consistent. Such cryptic offerings may be far removed from such epic works as the Op 39 Etudes‚ with their ‘Overture’‚ ‘Symphony’ and ‘Concerto’ for solo piano‚ yet Alkan’s brevity is not always the soul of wit. Too often he remains imprisoned within his own oddity‚ and when you realise what Chopin achieved‚ frequently in the briefest of spaces in his 24 Preludes‚ you realise why‚ to paraphrase Naxos’ accompanying note‚ ‘the name of Alkan is no longer joined with those of Chopin‚ Liszt‚ Schumann and Brahms as one of the greatest composers for the piano.’ Still‚ even here Alkan’s strange genius can produce gems. The nearly innocent opening ‘La vision’ has enough indirection‚ resolved in a solemn hymnal ending‚ to declare its composer‚ and he throws the wildest of tantrums in ‘Increpatio’. ‘Les soupirs’ is a far­sighted prophecy of impressionism‚ though with its own distinctive fragrance‚ while ‘Fantaisie’ releases a stream of pent­up‚ wholly Alkanesque virtuosity. ‘Délire’ has an authentic flush of hysteria while ‘Les enharmoniques’ is a naughty example of how Alkan can skew an idea and send it wildly off­centre‚ in this instance‚ to a growling and eccentric close. Best of all is ‘Les diablotins’ where Alkan’s ‘little devils‚’ heralded by fanfares‚ tramp in clusters that look ahead to Henry Cowell before being unceremoniously frog­marched from the field in double quick time. The sound is serviceable but shallow and although Laurent Martin is admirably fluent (most notably in ‘Fantaisie‚’ No 16) he is insufficiently committed elsewhere; an able rather than persuasive guide through this catalogue of curios.