The name in Chinese means “very brilliant”, although critics have rarely described Lang Lang as brilliant without smothering their praise with qualifications. Potentially brilliant, perhaps. Brilliant, but superficial. If only he’d grow up and stop playing to the gallery, it would be brilliant.

Two months after recording these Chopin concertos, the Chinese rock star of pianists served as the icing on the cake of the opening ceremony at the Beijing Olympics, twinkling at TV audiences across the world. At least here he’s returning to basics, tackling solid classical repertoire with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra and the conductor Zubin Mehta, both venerable musical institutions.

As the maestoso movement of the F minor concerto settles in, it looks at first as if Lang Lang’s maturity might be here. After the orchestral preliminaries he enters strongly and freshly, then moves on to underline the Mozartian echoes with delicate fingering wiped clean of self-indulgence. He’s attractive too in the mazurka-like third movement, whirling along with a vivacious touch.

There are mannerisms, but they don’t strangle Chopin. It’s the slow movement that gives serious pause, at least until the tempo stirs halfway through. He’s too pretty, too relaxed; the music is all decoration, no pulse. There is much more of this style, alas, in the E minor concerto that follows, recorded live in concert in June at the Vienna Musikverein. The rubato problem rears its head, with piquant phrases toyed over to a precious degree. Legato melodies turn simpering and self-regarding.

In his approach Lang Lang is clearly aiming for poetry, tenderness, romantic beauty; but you can be poetic without turning notes into wilting waterlilies or the plops of Disneyfied dewdrops. The concerto’s finale restores some fibre to his playing, but I’d rather hear a real pianist at work, not a frisky puppy.

Throughout, the Vienna Philharmonic sound suave enough, though boxed in by Chopin’s dull and constricted orchestral writing. Mehta falls in with Lang Lang’s every mood, sensible or not; he knows who’s the star. So does the recording engineer: the microphone is always close to the piano.

Lang Lang’s fans should pounce with joy upon this CD. But he’s not very brilliant, really; not yet.

(Deutsche Grammophon, TS £12.99)

www.timesselects.co.uk/music

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