In Brahms's Op 117-19, music like 'the golden lustre of parks in autumn, and the austere black and white of winter walks' (William Ritter), Lupu draws you into his confidence as only he can. The halting progressions of Op 119 No 2 (something Rachmaninov later remembered in his F major Prelude, Op 32 No 7) is perfectly qualified by its rapturous middle section and throughout all these pieces Lupu draws you into a crepuscular world of such poetic resource that you finally emerge blinking into the often banal reality of everyday life.