There are few performances in which every moment is seared into the consciousness, but this was one. The technique and intellectual power of the Polish pianist Krystian Zimerman are legendary, but it was the quality of his sound that made this recital of music by Brahms and Beethoven such an enthralling experience.

Zimerman certainly has the mark of an obsessive. Having found the best piano, he takes it with him wherever he plays; thus, every concert embodies his striving to create a perfect interpretation, the only proviso being that perfection can take many forms. At St George's, Zimerman deliberately pushed every facet of the musical experience to its limit, with the listener not just drawn in but compelled to be involved, listening to every note for its relative weight, tone and emotional value, its every vibration.

Zimerman opened his programme with the six piano pieces of Op.18, among Brahms's last utterances. In principle, these are miniature works, by turns silken and stormily explosive, but here, fashioned into a single construction and argued with a unity of purpose that was totally convincing, they formed a strong balance for the colossal five-movement Sonata in F minor Op.5, heard in the second half.

The idea that Brahms was tormented by Beethoven's example is frequently discussed, but Zimerman suggested that, at the keyboard, the young eagle (Schumann's description of the 20-year-old Brahms) had no such inhibitions. Using the two Brahms pillars to flank Beethoven's Sonata in A flat Op.110 certainly reinforced his thesis.

The passion with which Zimerman delivered the Brahms sonata was fiery, and even the quietest moments were imbued with a glowing intensity. Yet the Beethoven remained the pinnacle, its lyrical lines achingly beautiful, its fugues tightly controlled but proclaiming an exultant and indestructible joy. Zimerman is truly a poetic artist.