NCH John Field Room

If you accept the centuries-old contention that variety is the spice of life, then you probably don't need to look any further to explain the mixed nature of most concert programmes. Providing variety within a full evening devoted to the work of a single composer presented by a single musician on a single instrument is a particularly demanding undertaking. But it's one that's currently exerting a particular thrall in this year of Chopin celebrations.

Stuart O'Sullivan put himself at rather a disadvantage at the John Field Room. O'Sullivan, who was the highest-placed Irish competitor in the 1994 Dublin International Piano Competition and who has been reviving his concert career of late, often played like a man possessed, as if there were a demon whispering in his ear to demand playing that was louder and faster, and, never happy, always insisting on more, more and more.

The result was that O'Sullivan appeared to pressure himself into a style of delivery which left the music sounding excitedly noisy but rather ill-shaped, with frequent overload brought about by excessive use of the sustaining pedal. Think of a meal that's presented on the plate with simply too much salt in it – it can become hard to savour the food through the ever-present saltiness.

In the four Ballades of the first half of the evening, it was the quieter introductory passages which sounded best. The Polonaise-Fantasie and the Barcarolle in the second went too frequently over the top, and even the gentle Berceuse was not sufficiently well controlled.

The best moments of all came in the restful sections of the two Op 27 Nocturnes, and in the quiet of the Waltz in A minor from Op 34. Here there were agreeable suggestions of what O'Sullivan might achieve if he could decouple his fondness for linking volume and speed, and contain his apparent excitability of temperament in order to keep more of the notes more fully under his control.