The Prazák approach Brahms with vigour, making the most of all the dramatic moments - the coda of the Quartet's first movement has the character of an impassioned recitative. In both works the sound is constantly being varied: after the grandeur of Op 111's opening pages the hush at the start of the development section is breathtaking - like turning from a richly coloured summer landscape to the same scene portrayed at the dawn of a misty autumn day. The playing combines clarity with vivaciousness, the rhythms poised and springy but occasionally prone to mannerism, as when the emphatic lifted upbeats in the Quartet's finale are elongated.

Are the performances short on warmth and charm? The Alban Berg Quartet's splendid 1991 live performance of Op 51 No 2 certainly smiles more, gives greater emphasis to Brahms's lyrical qualities, and in the third movement's Allegretto interlude combines the impeccable ensemble of the Prazák version with a more graceful, relaxed manner. Similarly in the Quintet's Adagio the Prazák present the solemn, march-like character in a compelling way (with a wonderful viola cadenza near the end) but the Belcea Quartet sound smoother and more soulful, avoiding the edge of aggression that appears as the Prazák approach the climax. At the opening of the Quintet, too, the Belceas are more successful in sustaining the main theme's cantabile quality. In the latter part of the Quintet, however, the Prazáks come into their own. A delicate, unforced third movement leads to an irresistibly unrestrained account of the gypsy-style finale. It's worth getting the disc for this movement alone.