I’ve been looking forward all year to the return appearance of Cuban virtuoso Jorge Luis Prats in the College of Charleston’s dependable International Piano Series – in a busy and remarkable local concert season, to boot. And I’m not the only one who marked his calendar way ahead for this one: Prats’ many local fans (including bunches of young people) made for a very respectable crowd at the Sottile last Tuesday evening. We all got our money’s worth, and much more.

Prats is a true keyboard showman: his unique blend of deep musicality, prodigious technique and big personality make his every appearance an affair to remember. His robust and passionate playing engages immediately, sweeping the helpless listener straight to the heart of the music. And that heart was a Latino one here, as Prats dished up an all-Hispanic program of rarely-heard treats.

For starters, we heard Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos’ Bachiana Brasiliera No. 4 – the first time I’ve ever heard it in its original piano version (there’s a later arrangement for piano & orchestra). Largely self-taught, Villa-Lobos learned his craft by studying the great composers, and his reverence for Bach led to the nine Bachianas Brasilieras: his effort to meld the spirit of his homeland with the old master’s forms and contrapuntal wizardry. Prats delivered its four movements with skill and infectious style, emphasizing the music’s pungent, often quirky harmonies.

Prats then moved on to the music of Ernesto Lecuona: perhaps Cuba’s greatest composer. A keyboard master himself, Lecuona knew how to write for the piano … and we got to revel in five of his spiciest and most colorful examples. Highlights included Ante el Escorial – a marvel of passionate intensity that Prats rendered in the grand, romantic manner. He brought out the saucy carnival atmosphere of Minstrels, and wowed us with some fearsome octave passages in La 32. He took us to intermission with Altagrazia, a delicious tango-fantasia by Carlos Fariñas, another accomplished Cuban composer.

Filling out the evening’s second half were five of the knuckle-busting pieces that make up Spanish composer Enrique Granados’ Goyescas – his masterpiece. Inspired by the work of the great Spanish painter Francisco Goya, these spectacular and achingly beautiful numbers are seldom heard in concert … largely because few pianists dare to risk so much beastly difficult music in public. Called by some “The Spanish Chopin,” Granados crafted quite a bit of gorgeous piano music that recalls the Polish master’s sense of musical poetry as well as his technical sophistication. All of it was amazing – but the heart of the work was El Amor y la Muerte (Love and Death) – a particularly intense number that echoes the epic grandeur of Chopin’s famous Ballades. The final El Pelele was a tour-de-force of “caliente” spirit and passionate virtuosity – and Prats brought the house down with it.

Our raucous standing O inspired a pair of delightful encores, both by Lecuona. First, Prats left us open-mouthed with his traversal of the perky (and nearly impossible) Glissando Mazurka. You get piano glissandos by sliding your finger-tops or thumbnail rapidly up or down the white keys … but this number calls for parallel glissandi – like in thirds or sevenths – and done with one hand, to boot. Series host (and fellow distinguished pianist) Enrique Graf later joked that he’d probably break his fingers if he tried it. Prats then sent us off with a searing rendition of Malagueña, the only piece that most people would recognize.

Prats confessed to me afterwards that he felt he took quite a risk by offering mostly little-known music of a single cultural genre in this recital. But he needn’t have worried: he had a savvy Charleston audience that was up to the challenge – and open to something different. Besides, like he said, this is music that’s very close to his heart – and music, after all else is said and done, boils down to a heart-to-heart kind of thing. Please come back soon, Señor Prats.