Like that of his idol Mahler, Berg’s output is small but with few minor works. This means that any new addition to the catalogue is invariably of interest: doubly so when the piece comes from as crucial a juncture as 1913. Criticised by Schoenberg for retreating into small-scale composition, Berg began a process of expansion that led to his Op 6 Orchestral Pieces. Cast as a sequence of 11 variations (the provisional ending suggests that more was to follow) on a 12-note (though not serial) theme, the Passacaglia looks forward – in its dense and intricate scoring – to the ‘Praeludium’ from the Op 6 pieces, while its cumulative intensity anticipates the climactic passacaglia of Wozzeck nearly a decade hence. Thoughtfully conducted by James Conlon, it makes a welcome debut on disc.

The Capriccio CD otherwise surveys the orchestral music of Berg’s last years in performances which are dependable but hardly revelatory. True, the recording of the Violin Concerto lets through more detail than is often the norm, but Vladimir Spivakov’s playing – while alert and sensitive – lacks character in the opening movements; and has little sense of catastrophe in the Allegro, or of aspiring to transcendence in the Bach-pervaded Adagio.

Surprisingly for one so adept at bringing out the expressive depths in Zemlinsky, Conlon’s Lulu Suite finds little sensuousness in the unfolding of the ‘Rondo and Hymn’, while the feverish ‘Ostinato’ and ironic ‘Variations’ lack precisely those qualities. Her elegant ‘Lulu’s Lied’ (no text provided) suggests that Natalie Karl would be worth hearing in the title-role, but Ute Döring’s brief contribution to a tepid ‘Adagio’ hardly requires a separate singer. And why has the ‘Ach Gott’ expiration, found in Wedekind’s play but not Berg’s opera, been included?

For those who thought that the Kronos Quartet had become mired in novelties and half-baked fusion over a decade ago, their incisiveness and energy in the Lyric Suite’s opening Allegretto will come as a welcome surprise. Indeed, it’s the odd-numbered movements that work best here – with a quicksilver Allegro (the trio suavely ecstatic) and a charged but flexible Presto. Yet both the Andante and Adagio seem edgy rather than intense – while Dawn Upshaw’s laudable contribution to the final Largo rather confirms that, whatever Berg’s true intention as to the literal audibility of Baudelaire’s verse, the presence of a vocal line here hampers rather than enhances interplay of the instrumental voices. Bergians will need to hear it (the Pra?ak Quartet’s reading includes both versions), as they will the Passacaglia on Conlon’s disc, but neither release otherwise competes with those comparisons listed.