A very useful double-pack, this, which, although not always absolutely top-of-the-league performance-wise, is certainly good enough to convey the essence of some great 20th-century chamber music. The earliest works included are the rarely heard Andante in A major for violin and piano (1902) and, rather more familiar (at least since André Gertler recorded it for Supraphon), the Straussian E minor Violin Sonata, into whose rhapsodising world Tanja Becker-Bender ushers us with warmth and conviction.

The Sonata opens the second disc and is immediately followed by the wonderful Solo Violin Sonata, written in 1944 for Yehudi Menuhin, who ‘tamed’ some colouristic microtonal writing in the Presto finale, an option that Becker-Bender takes here, whereas Barnabás Kelemen gives us the microtones with no holds barred. Becker-Bender voices the fugue’s tiered opening with skill and weaves a world of mystery into the ‘Melodia’, darkening her tone effectively. Thereafter we have another solo work, but not for violin. Pianist Péter Nagy holds the high musical standard with a memorable performance of the Piano Sonata, so often a vehicle for percussive overkill but which in this context is full of differing grades of tone and colour, especially in the finale.

The first disc offers the two Rhapsodies and the two mature violin sonatas. For the former, in spite of the many virtues paraded by Becker-Bender and Nagy (who excel at the start of the Second Rhapsody), I’d opt for Kelemen and Kocsis performing the orchestral versions, especially as Kelemen offers different options for single movements of both Rhapsodies. As to the two sonatas coupled together, Becker-Bender’s tonal range lacks the grit of, say, Kelemen and Kocsis, Gyorgy Pauk with Jenő Jandó or Isaac Stern in partnership with Alexander Zakin. Also, in the First Sonata, the tempered urbanity of David Oistrakh, either with Frida Bauer or (especially) Sviatoslav Richter, or Gidon Kremer with Martha Argerich make a stronger impression. Although often effective in the way the music is nuanced – Bartók’s quieter music frequently comes across as quite magical – I find myself craving rather more in the way of physical abandon, especially in the finale of the First Sonata.

The less acerbic Second Sonata is more convincing, especially the second movement, which Becker-Bender and Nagy treat as a sort of extended friss section of a Hungarian Rhapsody (likewise Isabelle Faust with Florent Boffard). It’s never less than sympathetic, though, which makes for a safe and valuable recommendation, at least good enough for you to judge whether you wish to proceed further with alternative recordings.

The following Editorial Note was published in the April 2016 issue of Gramophone: Regarding Rob Cowan’s review of the Bartók double disc on SWR Music from Tanja Becker-Bender and Péter Nagy (February), the Solo Violin Sonata does not in fact adhere to the ‘tamed’ (1945) Menuhin version but to the Urtext version published by Bartók’s son Peter in 1994, which does include microtones.