On hearing the 15-year-old Leon Fleisher in 1943 Pierre Monteux, no less, exclaimed in wonder at “the pianistic find of the century”. He may well have marvelled similarly over Fleisher's first recording (here reissued) dating from 1956 when this great musician characteristically chose one of music's timeless masterpieces for his debut album. Even at so early a stage in a career dogged by tragedy (by the dystonia that until recently ended his performances with two hands) Fleisher's reading ranks with the finest on record, those by Schnabel (his beloved mentor), Kempff, Annie Fischer, Lupu and Kovacevich, to name but a few.

Already you hear those qualities that made him a peerless interpreter of the greatest music. Never for a moment is there an imposition of false values, of that pseudo-profundity that is so damaging to Schubert's essential spirit. Yet when you hear Fleisher's magically hushed launch of the first-movement development, in his hands pulsing with an extraordinary sense of pain and desolation, you realise that his naturalness and impetus are merely two among a wealth of musical virtues. The Andante sostenuto has rarely been weighted with such sorrow yet with such unerring clarity and focus, while the Scherzo's ominous Trio is made to throw a shadow across the outlying and delectable lightness. An exceptionally rapid finale, too, captures in an inimitable way both the desperation and enigma at the heart of D960.

Eight Ländler added as encores once more suggest a complex response resolved into playing of a classic candour, beauty and inclusiveness. United Archives' remastering is excellent and all lovers of profound musicianship will have to have this.