An excellently-chosen coupling this, not only as a reminder of the warm regard, both musical and personal, shared by Brahms and his slightly younger Czech contemporary. More importantly the two works offer such stimulating contrasts that I was surprised to find only one similar issue in the current catalogue – from Rubinstein and the Guarneri Quartet. And those legendary artists are never likely to be supplanted by newcomers, however gifted, as here.

The Concertante players come from a pool of young ex-Juilliard School prize-winners ‘intent on pursuing their musical collaboration beyond graduation’. I enjoyed them most in Dvorák’s much-loved A major Quintet, written at 46 after emergence from the shadows of family bereavement into sunlight. They risk a dare-devil tempo without loss of finesse in conveying the exuberant joie de vivre of the Scherzo (a Czech-inspired Furiant) and Finale. They also never leave us in a moment’s doubt as to the subtleties of Dvorák’s chamber-music scoring – outstandingly in the delicately spun textures of the ‘Dumka’ slow movement.

Brahms’s darker, autobiographically-inspired Quintet (twice metamorphosed before emerging in its definitive form when he was still only 32) again testifies to accomplished, caring musicianship, with a telling, cumulative rising of tension in its course. But does the first movement need a slightly faster, or tauter, beat and the Andante, un poco Adagio a marginally slower tempo to bring their fullest contrast?

The players observe every repeat – hence the generous playing-time of 80 minutes recorded in the warm acoustic of New York’s Academy of Arts and Letters. Very well worth considering, though maybe mid- rather than full-price would have been wiser at the moment.