Mark Elder sets the scene with great potency in the D minor First Concerto, conjuring a whole range of emotions, from ire to regret, Sunwook Kim responding with a carefully nuanced entry, the lines moulded with a degree of freedom that gives them personality without being overdone. This is as much Elder’s recording as Kim’s and the Hallé are on terrific form. If there are times when I missed the impetus of other readings, not least Paul Lewis in his recent version, Kim’s way with the first movement’s chordal theme (6'36") has a simplicity to it that is very telling. And if this isn’t the most headlong of readings, it does have a good sense of ebb and flow, though others make still more contrast between its more inward moments and its bounding energy, not least the masterly Freire.

Elder conjures a rapt mood in the slow movement to which Kim responds with great care – though there were occasions when this felt slightly self-conscious compared to the natural ebb and flow found by Lewis and Hough in their different ways. But Kim brings a fingery brilliance to the main theme of the finale, giving it an appealing vivacity, while the fugal passage (4'55") has a brilliant playfulness to it, which makes for good contrast with the more lyrical passages. They start the build-up to the close quite slowly, replete with zingy trills from Kim, which makes the acceleration to the final bars all the more exciting.

The opening of the B flat Second Concerto is strikingly spacious, the rapturous horn-playing silky smooth, which augurs for a very slow performance; but in fact Kim takes his cadenza-like solo passage markedly faster and when the orchestra returns it’s at a bright-eyed pace. However, I did find the movement as a whole somewhat changeable in terms of tempo and there were times when Kim lacked the requisite degree of imperious power (sample from 7'15") that others, such as Freire with the Gewandhaus, possess.

The second movement lives up to its appassionato direction and there’s a real sense of glee between pianist and orchestral players as they exploit its sheer range, from pounding climaxes down to most delicate writing. The greatest contrast comes from the slow movement, Elder ensuring not only that we admire the cello-playing of Nicholas Trygstad but are also aware of the pizzicato cellos and basses underpinning the texture. There’s a particularly lovely oboe solo too. Kim joins the conversation with delicacy and a hushed sense of awe but, like the slow movement of the D minor, sometimes you lose the sense of the bigger picture, so intent is he on revealing every passing beauty. The finale is an unhurriedly elegant affair, Kim and Elder relishing its frequent chamber-musical textures. The Hallé engineers have done a fine job of ensuring Kim is audible even in the biggest climaxes yet not unduly spotlit.