Andras Schiff, Wigmore Hall London

Chopin and his Idols is Andras Schiff's title for a recital series in which he plays Chopin on a mid- 19th-century Pleyel, and music by Bach, Scarlatti and Mozart on a Steinway specially prepared – lighter, less rich and less fierce than usual – by Fabbrini, whose name is painted with due flamboyance on the side of the instrument. Chopin, we know, revered Bach above all other composers; second in his esteem came Mozart. What he thought of Scarlatti isn't known, but as Schiff says, Scarlatti was, in some senses, the Chopin of his day, and 200 of his sonatas were published during Chopin's lifetime.

Schiff thrives on hard work, and plays each programme at the Wigmore Hall twice on successive evenings. Last week he began with Bach's Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue – unpedalled, crisp and peremptory: eminently rational. Very fine in a rather unemotional way. He followed it with Mozart's "Hoffmeister" Variations, in which, again, scarcely any pedal seemed to be used. Everything here was bright, clear and alert.

By contrast, six Scarlatti sonatas, selected in pairs sharing the same key or keynote, as they appear in Kirkpatrick's catalogue, were pedalled to give them more resonance, though the sound of this particular Steinway began to seem unusually dry and comparatively restricted in colour. Schiff isn't exactly a colourless pianist, though he has declared an aversion to the una corda, or "soft" pedal, which he describes as nasal. But his Scarlatti is relatively sober and sensible, at least compared with the daringly painted performances of Mikhail Pletnev.

Nor did he play Chopin for kicks. The Pleyel seemed to have limited sustaining power, and Schiff's generous pedalling produced a slightly disturbing effect of cloudiness trailing behind the bright attack of the instrument's upper register. The bass sounded mild, though the lower-middle register had a rich mahogany quality.

Possibly the response of the Pleyel's action influenced Schiff's rather solid and stately performances – the lilting second section of the Third Ballade was decidedly laid back. Yet in his avoidance of flashy effect, and his faith in noble cantabile, allowing every event to take its time, Schiff created a sense of returning to a world without Lisztian hysteria – though of that Chopin was well aware.

The Third Scherzo was, if slightly deliberate, so powerfully shaped it sounded a less gaudy and a more deeply satisfying piece than usual. The Fourth Ballade was faultless, and Schiff's sonorous account of the final section – at a steady tempo that allowed every detail to ring out clearly – was a model of how it should be done. Even if the left-hand ostinato of the Berceuse was hardly melting and a bit solid, the piece still worked its mesmerising magic. Then in the middle section of the Fourth Scherzo, Schiff suggested some interesting voicings, readjusting the balance between contrapuntal parts, which at least gave pause for thought.

Schiff has already said that it would be interesting to explore Chopin's influence on later composers such as Debussy, Janacek and Szymanowski. Perhaps he'll do that in a future series.

Last recitals on 14 & 15 February (020-7935 2141)