As they join the ranks of éminences grises, many musicians turn retrospective, revisiting repertoire high points to make final refinements. Peter Donohoe, in contrast, continues to explore. Even his recent recordings of standard repertoire – Mozart sonatas, Mendelssohn Songs without Words – expand, rather than reconsider, his rich discography. That’s mostly true here, too. While he has recorded the Chopin Third once before (a disc made nearly 30 years ago and now hard to find), the Second Sonata and the Rachmaninov are new additions.

Still, while the material is largely new, the performances have a ring of familiarity: Donohoe is nothing if not consistent. The sonatas get solid readings (in the best sense), marked by exceptional tonal resources (deployed with tact), an unfailing sense of musical architecture and a sure technique that allows for lucid balances and clearly articulated rhythms. As for general outlook: I wouldn’t call the playing placid but it’s certainly composed and self-assured. This is not the place to seek the accumulated power we get from Argerich (DG) or the youthful freshness we get from Kapell (RCA, 1/99), much less the knockabout spirit we get from Grainger (APR, 4/11). Donohoe is more plain-spoken, offering no special pleading, either for Chopin or for himself. There are striking moments (the poignantly light touch towards the end of the Second’s Scherzo, the subtle treatment of the interweaving lines in the B section of the Third’s Lento); and in a nod to Rachmaninov, he begins the reprise of the Second’s Funeral March with a bang. The overarching attribute is not individuality, though, but interpretative honesty.

The Rachmaninov, similarly judicious, is even more appealing. The intention behind the programme, of course, is to bring out the connections between Rachmaninov and his beloved Chopin – and Donohoe’s account of the Variations certainly does that. Even more remarkable, though, is the way his expert voicing brings out the work’s Bachian spirit (well analysed in Marina Frolova-Walker’s illuminating notes), especially in Var 3 and the fugal Var 12, which sound almost like Rachmaninov’s Bach transcriptions. Here too, though, he avoids the temptation to exaggerate, stressing the music’s ingenuity rather than its spectacle. No surprise that he chooses the quiet version of the ending.

All in all, a welcome contribution to Donohoe’s catalogue.