Khatia Buniatishvili, with her trademark slash of red lipstick and tumbling, thick black hair, is among the most charismatic of present-day women pianists. Watching her play is at least as rewarding as hearing her. Her hair, though it often seems to obscure her vision, has an intense life of its own and is a key element of her stage persona. Her keyboard address veers from imperious to chaste, from mischievous to demonic and from genial to ecstatic. Her awesome technique can lead her astray at times, but in a work like the Liszt A major she thrills and caresses by turns – and sets the spine a-tingling.

In Beethoven’s C major Concerto, filmed two days later in the same venue, her visual engagement with Mehta and the players is captivating. Purists will no doubt demur but I found her approach, with its brisk tempos, chamber music dialogue and her refusal to play the heavyweight classical card, utterly refreshing.

Paradoxically, it is partly the visual element that make these filmed performances frequently frustrating. Buniatishvili is the draw. There is nothing else worth looking at. Certainly not the orchestra, and not Mehta, whose facial expression never changes from impassive. I lost count of the times the director cut away from the soloist at an inappropriate moment, losing the tension, focusing on the wrong section while the piano part was the musical centre of attention.

On my equipment, the film colours are more like a second-generation copy of an analogue video than new, crisp HD digital. The inadequate booklet fails to say anything about the two star musicians or the music they are playing. The sound quality is excellent, although the boast that this is ‘the first classical concert on video mixed in the new revolutionary sound technology’ – referring to the Dolby Atmos system – will only be relevant to home listeners with Atmos-enabled equipment.