This year has already seen the publication of several outstanding viola recordings, and here are two more to keep up the momentum. Viola players, lacking the extensive solo repertoire of violinists and cellists, turn more frequently to arrangements, and Bach is a natural first choice. The three sonatas for keyboard and viola da gamba only need occasional octave transposition to be entirely convincing as works for viola and piano. Inoue and Sturrock’s interpretations are on traditional lines, with broad tempi for the slower movements, sostenuto viola tone and comparatively smooth phrasing. It’s playing that always sounds beautiful, and in the energetic outer movements of BWV1029 gives a wonderfully invigorating, heartening impression. Several of the slower movements, however, are, to my taste, too heavily sustained, with not much feeling of forward movement.

The two performances of the great violin Chaconne are very different, though both artists meet the considerable technical challenge in fine style. Antoine Tamestit has clearly been listening to the best Baroque violinists; there’s less sense of effort in his version, the characteristic chaconne rhythms are presented more decisively, and the slurring and articulation are more precise and stylish. Inoue’s performance is vigorous and involving, with more vibrato and no attempt at period-style phrasing. Her approach is valid but it’s a pity she’s followed generations of violinists in misunderstanding Bach’s notation at the start – there should be two chords, not three, in the opening bars. Tamestit’s lively, historically informed manner extends through the earlier movements of the Partita, the rhythmic character of each dance emerging with great clarity. The performance of the Ligeti – a magnificent, enthralling piece that’s already emerged as a peak of the viola repertoire – is extraordinarily clean and accurate. It makes a fascinating comparison with the recording by his teacher, Tabea Zimmermann (Sony, 4/98 – nla). Her tone is darker and more expressive, and her rubato in the opening “Hora lunga¢” sounds more natural. Tamestit has a wider dynamic range, however, and pays more detailed attention to the composer’s markings. And, in the final “Chaconne chromatique” we hear two divergent but equally convincing responses to Ligeti’s near impossible demands.