In the opening measures of the D major Sonata, D850, Anne-Marie McDermott throws down the proverbial gauntlet with a power and thrust that accurately signifies the hurling momentum, kinetic energy and firmly focused musical engagement to come. Phrases sweep over the bar lines, delineated by subtle rhythmic inflections that recall Artur Schnabel’s tension-filled editorialising. By contrast, McDermott makes the slow movement’s expressive points through careful scaling of dynamics and assertive left-hand presence. Her Scherzo may not be the most supple around (I lean towards the lighter touch of Richard Goode, Vladimir Ashkenazy and Mitsuko Uchida), yet she imparts a distinct timbral character upon each theme. A slight self-awareness permeates the pianist’s clipped articulation and tapered phrase-endings in the Rondo, while her textually faithful minor-key episode holds the music’s turbulence in check. However, these are tiny quibbles in the light of McDermott’s fierce concentration and intelligent musicianship.

McDermott manages to personalise the B flat Sonata, D960, without drawing more attention to herself than to Schubert. She avoids the micromanagement bug that infected the recent Simone Dinnerstein, Krystian Zimerman, Khatia Buniatishvili and Alexander Lonquich traversals. The first movement’s long exposition (with repeat intact) ebbs, flows and sings with a controlled flexibility that illuminates the music’s narrative discourse in every moment. Many pianists keep the Adagio’s haunting left-hand ostinato murmuring in the background. McDermott’s semi-détaché treatment, however, transforms this gesture into an animated and arguably flippant foil to the main cantabile’s melancholy.

The pianist’s conservatively paced Scherzo allows for numerous felicities of voicing, while the Trio’s ample leeway keeps one guessing as to how she will articulate the syncopated bass notes. Some may feel her finale held back and unduly pondered. To my ears, her tiny hesitancies in the main theme provide dramatic contrast to the foreboding unison G naturals. Furthermore, McDermott’s pliable, exploratory phrasing of the second theme gives no hint of the devastatingly intense minor-key episode to follow. The coda is forceful, if somewhat reined in; I miss the joyful abandon others bring to this passage. Overall, Leon Fleisher’s heartfelt simplicity remains reference-worthy, alongside the poetically eloquent Perahia, Lupu, Andsnes, Kovacevich and Pollini (or Goode and Curzon if you don’t need the repeat). Still, it’s clear that McDermott has pondered over and lived with these two sonatas, and has ultimately made them her own.