I feel much the same way about the Novus Quartet’s Brahms as I did about their Tchaikovsky (Aparté, 11/17), my initial encounter with this ensemble. There, I described the ensemble’s wiry, glistening collective tone as being ‘like a tightly coiled bundle of fine, luminous filaments’ – and that description applies here as well. Indeed, throughout this set, the Novus’s focus seems to be on textual transparency.

Such clarity is welcome in the opening movement of the A minor Quartet, which all too often sounds clotted. And with impeccably judged balances, the result is crystalline rather than clinical. A good deal of the time, too, the players phrase with striking sensitivity. Note how the violins shape the opening theme to convey a sense of melancholic yearning by leaning expressively on the melody’s inflection points. Why, then, are they relatively stiff in the contrasting second theme (at 1'21")? Brahms marks it grazioso ed animato, yet the Novus phrase it so squarely. Listen, for comparison, to the Takács Quartet’s charming undulations (Hyperion, 1/08).

I also find the slow movement of Op 51 No 2 too emotionally cool despite some touching moments – I love the songfulness they bring to the Schubertian outburst at 3'04", for example. The Quasi minuetto moves with balletic grace, but why is the joyful Mendelssohnian Trio section so uncomfortably nervous? (The Novus brought a similar nervous energy to much of Tchaikovsky’s Souvenir de Florence.)

As for the first of Op 51, it can often sound as if it’s bursting at the seams, like a symphony condensed down to four voices. Not here, however. This is chiselled, squeaky-clean Brahms, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Being able to hear every strand of the argument – and much of this work is argumentative – can generate a certain excitement of its own, as it does with fierce Beeethovenian concentration in the finale. Again, though, I sometimes longed for greater warmth. The Romanze is far too cool for my taste, while the intermezzo-like third movement moves with a strangely heavy tread.

I wish there was more joy in the syncopations in the opening movement of Op 67 – they’re simply disorientating in the Novus’s hands – but this is by far the most successful performance overall. Yes, the slow movement takes time to warm up but the coda is positively radiant; the melody is kept boldly to the fore in the agitated third movement, and there’s some affectingly tender (as well as incandescently beautiful) playing in the final variations. In sum, even if I wouldn’t recommend this set as a first choice, its striking individuality makes it worth hearing.