Reicha’s moments of apparent high seriousness, but when he lets his imagination flow – as in the 12 tiny variations crammed into three and a half minutes of the third Etude – his music is sweetly persuasive. Illić plays with charm and transparent precision throughout.

Ilić argues persuasively for the variety of fugal approaches in these pieces but there is little here of the sense of wonder at Bach’s ability, in the ‘48’, to present a compendious range of fugal types and styles, despite Reicha’s occasional idiosyncratic turn of harmony.

I said of Volume 1 that ‘Ilić’s playing is wonderfully attuned to the style and content of the music and Chandos’ sound is superb,’ and I see no reason to modify my comments about its successor. Ilić is also alive to the place of Reicha stylistically, part-way (like Hummel) between Beethoven and early Chopin; within the pseudo-Bachian context of the prelude and fugue, it makes for a beguiling synthesis. Once again, highly recommended.

Fascinating music ... a fabulous disc.

Don’t be put off by the dry-sounding title of the main work on this second instalment of Ilic’s survey of the piano music of Antoine Reicha (1770-1836): 34 ‘Études dans le genre fugué’ struck me as a fairly forbidding prospect, but I was hooked from the second track onwards thanks to Reicha’s own powers of pastiche and invention (more than once I was put in mind of the Diabelli Variations, written around the same time), and the incredible variety of timbre which Ilic summons to characterise each miniature.

They require the skills of a pianist as intelligent as Ilić in order to come into their own.

Ilic’s notes are a model of accessible erudition, and the recorded sound is delicious.

This rich, rewarding recital is delivered with consummate grace, Ilić is fully alert to Reicha’s pleasing idiosyncrasies, stillness and sly humour. No hesitation in recommending this latest instalment in what is fast turning out to be the discovery of the year.