★★★★☆
So commanding was Alfred Brendel in Schubert’s piano music that other pianists complain they can’t get him out of their fingers. It’s two decades or more since Brendel last recorded late Schubert, and half century since he made those epochal recordings in Philips, yet his shadow stretches long and no clear contender has since emerged as the Schubert pianist of our time.
Steven Osborne can credibly claim to lead the field. A Scot with a strong record in Beethoven, he disdains Brendel’s emotional neutrality at the opening of Schubert’s penultimate sonata and imposes a convincing interpretation of assertive clarity. The virility of the opening movement is counterpointed by a tenderness in the second that veers daringly towards self-pity before pulling back to moderate pathos. Playfulness returns in the later sections. Osborne leaves us in no doubt that, contrary to much academic speculation, these are not deathbed musings. On the contrary, Schubert seems to be pushing into Beethoven territory, leaving the last sonatas irresolute and still teeming with ambition.
In the Moments Musicaux Osborn is marginally less coherent. The Viennese mordancy that Brendel trademark is much less evident, at least until the sixth Moment when Osborne turns perceptibly inward and plays with deep contemplation, as if to himself. One has a sense of an artist looking for personal answers in a piece of music, always a rewarding auditory experience. Osborne goes beyond past cliches and makes the listener think.
