It has become a cliche to talk about Schubert's last piano sonata, in B flat major, as if it belonged to a "late period". He was just 31 when he wrote it in 1828, and yet from many performances of the piece, you would think that the work was a world-weary farewell to the genre, as if Schubert were aware of his imminent death. But young pianist Steven Osborne, 33 this year, found a vitality and energy in this supposedly elusive music.

He shaped the opening melody with clear, unfussy phrasing, building towards a climax of vivid power. But there was melancholy here as well: the first movement was perforated by the tenebrous rumbling of a low-register trill, suggesting mysterious depths beneath the music's serene surface. Osborne created a magical transition to the central section of the movement, finding a new palette of soft-focused colours just as the music discovered an uncanny harmonic region. In the tranquil coda, the trill flickered ominously, casting a long shadow over the whole movement. The slow movement explored a darker emotional landscape, with its lamenting melody supported by a halting, fitful accompaniment.

But the final two movements belonged to a different world, with the ebullience of the Scherzo and dazzling wit of the finale. In Osborne's performance, the subtle harmonic games and thunderous outbursts of the final movement were playful, capping an interpretation of immediacy and excitement rather than transcendental insight.

There could hardly be a greater contrast between Schubert's intense, introverted sonata and the barnstorming fireworks of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. Osborne proved equal to the work's fiendish technical challenges, from the ghoulish imagination of Gnomus to the sepulchral chill of the Catacombs, and even if his playing lacked the finesse demanded by some of Mussorgsky's fantastical miniatures, he created an irresistible momentum in the bells of The Great Gate of Kiev.