Many artists argue that restriction if not limitation can lead to great creative heights and in daring to take on the challenge of the ‘left hand only’ Robert Mitchell is pushing the envelope in solo piano. It's an audacious but entirely fruitful undertaking as the result highlights exactly how much expressive scope there is without the use of the right hand, and also raises interesting questions over the prospective function of the two weapons in the pianist's arsenal. Blown away from the start is the assumption that the left hand is all block chords or bass lines. On all of the 12 pieces on offer, which go from the interlude, ébauche-like to the lengthier, through-composed, there are intricately braided single note figures that do not want for the melodic lyricism that one associates with the upper register. But then again, the left hand, certainly that attached to Mitchell's body and soul, is not a prisoner of the low end. And a major part of the appeal of The Glimpse is its dynamic range and wide span of frequencies, to the extent that one may forget that the streams of notes are not produced by a player who is deploying all 10 digits. What is perhaps the real triumph of The Glimpse is the sense of distillation and clarity that is achieved without any denuding. Rhythmically and harmonically, the elements that have defined Mitchell's playing since his auspicious 2001 debut Voyager are still there – drawn from Afro-Diasporic and European classical traditions – but there is a heightened lyricism that has a kind of innocence at times, and that makes this music touching as well as stimulating. With Sam Newsome's The Art of The Soprano Vol.1 arriving in the same month, this is a good time for solo innovation.