When I was young I was given a recording of Richard Goode playing Beethoven's late piano sonatas. Even repertoire aside, it wasn't the obvious choice for a child; Goode's style is anything but flashy and, though at that point he would have been just middle-aged, his emotional engagement has always seemed more that of a knowing veteran than a fresh-eyed explorer. But those discs had a huge impact on me. Mostly, they proved that detachment can be as powerful a tool as high drama. At 68, Goode is the statesman of American piano playing, and still his playing eschews predictability. With that characteristic detachment, this recital posed surprises and challenges in the most well-trodden of repertoire.

Schumann's Kinderszenen was treated with breezy affection – more like browsing through a picture book than reliving childhood memories – while Kreisleriana was muscular and often brusque. Goode's tone tends to be more bright than conventionally beautiful, favouring sparse voicings that can sound steely. This was Schumann the modern-day realist, not Schumann the whimsical dreamer.

When it comes to Chopin, whose music made up the programme's second half, Goode's refusal to turn maudlin makes his interpretations remarkable. The Scherzo in C sharp minor Op 39 was a force of stoicism, and the set of waltzes (A flat major Op 64 No 3; C sharp minor Op 64 No 2 and F major Op 34 No 3) wore their triple-time swing lightly, every note making logical sense next to its neighbour. It's curious that Goode murmurs along at the keyboard, but I like that he does; it's the one personal indulgence in an otherwise sleek and deeply considered performance.