These fascinating and deeply personal performances first appeared between 1966 and 1969 on America's Connoisseur label; they [were then] finely remastered by VAI, who fully capture this pianist's subtle and lucid sound-world. His imaginative freedom throughout is complemented by a scrupulous concern for the score, an enviable blend supported by the sort of pianistic cunning known to very few players. You may argue about this or that, but time and again you will find yourself returning to square one to reconsider four of Chopin's greatest masterpieces in so many different lights, from so many arresting angles. From Moravec the First Ballade's chief subject is given all the time in the world to tell its despondent tale and scarcely a bar goes by without some intriguing aside. On the other hand he locates an ideal pastoral calm for the Second Ballade's opening, quite without recourse to overblown detailing, and the ensuing storms and hell-bent coda blaze with a magnificently controlled fury. Again, in the final and glorious Fourth Ballade Moravec stretches interpretative parameters close to their limit, yet his performance is far too serious and committed to be thought capricious or attention-seeking.

Superficial is, perhaps, the last word to describe Moravec's way with the Mazurkas. Once more he is gloriously sensitive to their confessional nature, to their volatile flashes of melancholy, fitful radiance and sudden anger. In the A minor work, Op. 17 No. 4 he recreates a desolation with such skill and finesse as to suggest music which reaches its ultimate apotheosis in, say, Debussy's Des pas sur la neige. So, here are riches indeed.

It's impossible to describe the extraordinary pianistic gifts of this artist without a string of superlatives

Ivan Moravec's Chopin is always compelling. He makes each one of the Ballades into a compelling story, reinforcing his imaginative approach to the music with superb tonal and dynamic resources. Each of the Mazurkas also becomes an individual experience, with rhythmic shadings as effective as the tonal shadings.

...his playing of the Barcarolle is one of the great Chopin performances on record, and the sound of these 1965-69 recordings remains superb.

Where to begin with this remarkable and special recording? ...Well, for starters, no matter how many other recordings you have of these warhorses, no matter how satisfied you are with the ones you have, you need to hear this. Put this disc on, listen closely, listen again, listen again, then go back and listen to whatever your previous yardstick had been, and I doubt you'll be as satisfied. You'll be surprised how limited the palettes of so many other pianists sound.

Occasionally a disc will not be just enjoyable. It will teach me as well. This disc taught me to hear really closely, paying attention to how even repeated figurations can be oh so subtly altered from phrase to phrase. Moravec has a seemingly bottomless range of expressive resources. A lesser pianist will dip into the same "bag of techniques" when the score demands it (see my review of Zimerman in the Ballades), but someone like Moravec has a seemingly limitless supply of techniques, one for each occasion, never recycled. His imagination is just tremendous.

Just listen to the first ballade. The phrasing in the second phrase is so carefully shaded and nuanced. Not even considering any musical qualities, Moravec's sheer muscular control must be incredible. Then listen to the first two phrases of the first theme proper. Pay attention to the left hand in the bass notes - they're shaded subtly - oh so subtly - different. Again, Moravec's touch is just astonishing - extremely varied but very natural and never fussy. As the great critic Henry Fogel put it, "very subtly and sensitively colored and phrased." Yet it's never fussy self-indulgence; rather, it feels as though he's making up these works at the keyboard, and that you are hearing them for the first time.

And that sums up all these works. Moravec, one of the most underrated pianists out there today (he's still alive and performing; one of the last greats from the bygone years), is, like Horowitz, a colorist. But whereas Horowitz boldly slashes at the canvas with bold primary colors, Moravec sketches with soft pastels. In certain works, though, it's just the right approach. Just as I wouldn't want to see the Sistine Chapel in watercolor, I wouldn't want to hear Moravec do the Hammerklavier. But in the right works, his accounts can be breath-taking. Yes, sometimes I wish there was more spine in these readings. Sometimes things meander a bit, especially in Ballade No. 3, and some climaxes may not be forceful enough. No matter to me; there are plenty of other, forceful versions, but only one Moravec.

While this should not be your only set of ballades, it should be near the top of your list. In a world of piano clones, Moravec is special and unique. So is this CD. And while you're at it, check out his Chopin nocturnes, too. And his Beethoven Op. 90.

I have had this recording for 30 years, first on vinyl and then on CD. I don't think I have another classical recording that gets as much play as this one. Simply put, I have heard no other artist who has interpreted Chopin this passionately or with this much technical skill. Even after 30 years, there are passages, particularly in Ballade No.1 (tho' also in each of the other Ballades) that bring me to tears. I find myself comparing other artists to Moravec's interpretations and, while they may have brief passages that are inspiring, ultimately they are tame, or worse, flat. For me, this is the definitive, incomparable interpretation of the Ballades and, for that matter, so are the rest of Chopin's works performed by Moravec.