By now, it is more or less de rigueur to prefix comments on Benjamin Grosvenor's abilities at the keyboard by mentioning his age. Well, yes, it has to be said that, at twenty-three, there is more than a touch of the Wunderkind about what he does. But make no mistake: this is a serious, talented, imaginative, and committed musician who makes some of his more hyped competitors seem, by comparison, adolescent and lacking in both range and insight.

All other qualities aside, he is refreshingly devoid of mannerisms and flourishes in both his demeanour and approach to the music he plays. No extravagant head-tossing, no languid flourishes of hands or arms that might contribute to ... well, what? Certainly not the music. Clearly, for Grosvenor, the music is foremost. In some respects his interpretative approach might even be seen as a touch old-fashioned, if by that we mean responsive to the composer's instructions, clear about what he wants to do with a particular piece, and, above all, and always, putting the music first, along with the task of communicating its distinctive character to the audience.