Beethoven, Bagatelles (Hyperion, through Ode Records)

 FIVE/FIVE

 Verdict: “English pianist reveals the wonders of Beethoven’s miniature world”

There is so much more to Beethoven’s piano music than his 32 Sonatas or those monumental chains of variations that so tax interpretative skills and physical stamina.

These two dozen short pieces, bearing the title of Bagatelle, are just as epoch-changing as the composer’s large-scale roars and cerebral intricacies.

The Bagatelles may not carry fanciful titles like “Traumerei” and “Pantalon et Columbine”, but they pre-empt the miniature romantic worlds of Robert Schumann Kinderszenen and Carnaval.

Nigel Osborne’s new CD of the Bagatelles, recorded last July with all the artistry and attention you expect from Hyperion, catches all the whimsy that Beethoven’s title suggests.

The English pianist skims over the keys in the shortest number — the 11 seconds of Opus 119 no 10 —  yet, when the composer lays on a flurry of incident, he is ingenious in making it hang together.

The dotted rhythms of Op 33 no 3 seem to suggest white-hot keys; for the interlude sin between, Osborne balances ambling folkiness with mock serioso intent.

You can hear Beethoven laughing here, whether in the gruff octaves and counterpoint of Op 126 no 4, or in the many others in which textures chop and change so unpredictably that it all borders on collage.

Here we see Beethoven the improv meister of his time, and Osborne conveys all the excitement that comes with such scattergun invention, cleverly using pedal to suggest that simple harmonies might not be as straightforward as they seem.

One of my favourites is Ländler of Opus 119 no 8, a Landler, innocent on the surface but harbouring enough slippery key changes to fuel a few pages of Wagner.

This album comes with two bonuses. One is a half-dozen works without opus number, including an enigmatic 31-second Allegro quasi Andante and the popular Für Elise, delivered with a telling simplicity.

The other bonus is the booklet illustration. Paul Klee’s 1930 House on the Water is perfect, providing echoing the sometimes radical music of another age in its subtle colour shifts and geometric play.