This set’s opening gambit is an account of the First Symphony that’s both gemütlich and gripping – no easy feat. On first hearing, I occasionally worried that some of Sanderling’s broad tempos might tip into sluggishness, but thankfully a sense of forward motion is always maintained, even in the spaciously conceived Andante sostenuto. Sanderling manages this, I think, by investing the musical lines with an urgent lyricism. Above all else, this is a Brahms First that sings.

It’s also a performance particularly rich in colouristic detail. I love how the music gradually darkens starting at 11'18" in the first movement, as well as the delicate piping of the clarinet at 0'26" in the Un poco allegretto e grazioso and the sweet, radiant warmth of the chorale at 3'41" in the finale (it is marked dolce, after all). Even in the work’s rapturous final minute, the orchestra intones like a choir.

There are marvellous things in the Second Symphony, too. The Adagio non troppo’s second theme (at 3'00") dances with dulcet grace, for example, and the dovetailing of strings and winds in the Presto ma non assai of the third movement is absolutely seamless. I do have a few misgivings, however. I understand why Sanderling would want to wallow in the first movement’s coda (starting at 19'15"), but Brahms explicitly warns against this, writing in tempo, ma più tranquillo, a directive the conductor simply ignores. And the finale is simply too measured for me. It’s beautifully played and liberally sprinkled with felicities – the mellow richness of the horns and strings at 6'38", say – but too many of the music’s boisterous surprises are ironed out.

At least the Second is not entirely unsatisfying (the heartiness of the playing almost makes up for the lack of ebullience). With the Third and Fourth Symphonies, though, I found myself more disconcerted. For starters, why encourage a crescendo on the second chord at the beginning of the Third? It’s not written. And why the sudden gear-shift at 3'20"? Indeed, the way Sanderling lurches around in this movement is most distracting (and perplexing, given how surely he paces the finale, a movement that most conductors seem to find a particularly difficult nut to crack). I was bothered, too, by the way the two clarinets phrase together in the opening of the Andante instead of the phrasing overlapping as it’s written – a minor detail, yes, but one that’s increasingly irksome on repeated hearings.

The first movement of the Fourth is full of awkward tempo shifts, too, while Sanderling’s emphasis on the non troppo of Allegro non troppo ultimately results in a sense of weariness. I like his solemn tempo for the slow movement as it underlines the music’s processional character, and there is some exceptionally lovely playing, like the soft radiance of the strings at 4'07". The third movement is a touch dour, but the broadly paced finale packs quite a punch.

Sanderling revels in Schoenberg’s technicolour arrangement of the G minor Piano Quartet, drawing playing of richness and depth from the orchestra. Given his expansive readings of the opening Allegro and third-movement Andante con moto, I was surprised at how he breezes through the Intermezzo. I just wish the Presto finale had more verve (the Molto presto for the coda should have been his tempo at the outset).

The recorded sound is admirably clear and natural, though Harmonia Mundi’s engineers gave the Lucerne strings greater body on Gaffigan’s Dvořák Sixth (A/14).