Murray Perahia, Royal Festival Hall, London

Two sonatas by Beethoven – in E minor, Op 90 and A major, Op 101 – then Schubert's late A major Sonata: this made for a strong, simple sequence of keys and contrast of character, with a relatively low-profile sonata in only two movements before two big four-movement works. But the balance of Murray Perahia's annual Festival Hall recital was disturbed slightly by the addition of Beethoven's 32 Variations in C minor as a starter. It's a forthright work, which Beethoven affected to disown on one occasion. Perahia went for it, and some momentary fluffs in his normally immaculate flow did nothing to spoil his clean projection of well-contrasted moods.

The Op 90 Sonata is, misleadingly, given to learners, because, superficially, it seems simple. I reviewed Radu Lupu playing it last October, and however odious comparisons may be, the difference was striking. Perahia suggested nothing like Lupu's wealth of feeling, nor his imaginative scope, and however striking the dramatic dialogue Perahia drew from the first movement, his remained a literal and rather impersonal reading. In the singing second movement, though a singing tone is one of Perahia's strengths, he began to sound just a little bit bored.

Perhaps the audience expected two movements only in Op 101, because they burst into applause after the march-like second movement. Or perhaps the very physical gesture with which Perahia punctuated the final chord simply triggered a knee-jerk response. It was most unwelcome, anyway, just before the deeply felt slow transition to the finale, and it somehow ruined the sense of following a story until Perahia salvaged a very fine, vigorously articulated fugue a little later.

Strong fingers are one of his qualities, too, and he took the first movement of Schubert's late A major Sonata not just allegro but almost vivace. I suspect that the stronger a pianist's grasp of the whole movement, the slower he can afford to take it, and this felt like a superficial account, to which little cosmetic blandishments only added points of charm on a local level, without contributing anything in the long term.

Nor did he probe many depths in the gentle but profoundly sad second movement, and during its intervening storm section, I was put in mind of the sort of theatrical effect that a much lesser composer such as Weber might have gone in for. Predictably, the Scherzo was quite charming. The long finale, so noble because of its stoic quality, was, however, less moving than it should have been. Almost dutiful. Was this really the great Murray Perahia, meant to be one of the finest players of Schubert today?

Well, he can certainly play the Impromptus very nicely, and duly gave us the E flat Impromptu as his second encore, its right-hand triplets perfectly even and the left hand touched in with delicate discretion. He also delivered a fine account of Chopin's "Winter Wind" Study. Honour maintained, then, but a reputation very little enhanced.