In last year’s August issue I celebrated the arrival of the first of Howard Shelley’s Moscheles concerto cycle, marvelling at his stylistic elegance and nimbleness in a triple role of pianist, conductor and producer. Here in Volume 2 he once again lays a sparkling enchantment across even the most innocent pages, while also reminding us in his subtlety wit and pace of Moscheles’s only outwardly conservative nature. As Henry Roche so finely puts it in his accompanying notes, ‘the earlier five concertos retain a firmly classical orientation, even though each shows different facets of the composer’s originality and exploratory bent’.

Later, in his last three concertos, Moscheles moved on with an increasing sense of drama and novelty, his titles – Fantastique, Pathétique and Pastorale (No 8) and his directions at the conclusion of the Seventh Concerto (con furia, con abbandono, frenetico and con disperazione) declaring their Romantic provenance. Even so, it is hard not to fall for the First Concerto’s memories of Mozart, of its amiability and clear-sightedness. In the finale, in particular, one frisky delight follows another; with its toy fanfares, bustle and importance and concluding rush of events, it is as if Lilliput had taken to the battlefield.

The later concertos are richer, darker and more inclusive, with ideas growing and expanding with a greater expressive intensity. Moscheles may have grumbled at what he saw as Chopin’s ‘irregularities’ and audacity, but in Concertos Nos 6 and 7 he takes on board a recognisable wistfulness and floridity, adding to the influences of Hummel and Mendelssohn while at the same time maintaining his own distinctive voice. Nonetheless, such music demands a very special performance if its virtues are to outshine its limitations and Shelley’s expertise, his immaculate charm and brio cast a brilliant light on every page. His Tasmanian orchestra is with him all the way and Hyperion’s sound and balance are of demonstration quality. An exemplary issue; I can scarcely wait for Volume 3.