These are extremely well-focused and well recorded performances, the cello cadenza near the opening of the First Quartet’s third movement and the first violin’s plaintive response to it soon afterwards being fair cases in point. The Ragazze Quartet project a genuine sense of longing, whereas the dancing demeanour of the finale proper is very skilfully handled rhythm-wise and the quieter passages, haunting recollections which seem to reach back to some bygone memory, have an equally powerful impact.

In the Ragazze’s hands the Second Quartet’s opening anticipates the parallel mysteries at the start of the Third Quartet (I’m now intrigued at the prospect of hearing them play that masterpiece too), whereas the subdued top-speed coda of the Allegro molto capriccioso second movement rushes forth with reptilian agility. The mostly static mood of the Second Quartet’s finale is extremely intense, especially from around 4'05", where Bartók’s infinitely strange, richly textured harmonies gradually ignite on an accelerating crescendo only to die away in the wake of yet more rapt mystery. True, the Ragazzes aren’t the only players who relish these and similar moments, but you sense a real rapport between group members and the score to hand.

The Fourth Quartet is perhaps given the best performance of all, the first movement cranky and obdurate, the two scherzos (whether muted or plucked) full of sudden contrasts, the central slow movement almost Messiaenic in its evocation of animated birdsong – more fine cello-playing from Rebecca Wise – and the finale aggressively punk-like and unrelenting.

The Ragazze Quartet certainly cut the mustard. If Vol 2 is as good as this, there’ll be cause to celebrate.