As always, the shadow of Mstislav Rostropovich looms large here. Daniel Müller-Schott was fortunate enough to work on Britten’s three Cello Suites during a year he spent studying with Rostropovich, the pieces’ dedicatee, and reminisces in the booklet about how the Russian master approached the music with “all his typical vitality”.

His own performances have vitality, too, but are otherwise quite different. What sets Rostropovich apart, aside from his huge and lustrous cello tone, is the outright authority of his playing. Comparisons between teacher and pupil in the first two Suites (Rostropovich did not record the third for Decca) reveal Rostropovich keeping a firm, unfussy grip on rhythm, and a sense of the longer-term structure of each piece, that make the music seem inevitable. Müller-Schott’s flexible playing feels almost wayward by comparison.

In fact, that only means he falls into line with recordings by most other cellists of his generation, such as Truls Mørk, Pieter Wispelwey and (to a lesser extent) Robert Cohen. All are liberal in their use of rubato and allow themselves a freedom of expression barely hinted at in Britten’s scores.

In the Andante lento of Suite No 2, Müller-Schott’s yearning tone hardly qualifies for Britten’s non espress marking, affecting though it is; and in the following Ciaccona he lives for the moment with a virtuoso range of colours and accents. This level of engagement is thoroughly absorbing on its own terms, especially in the Third Suite, the freest in its flowing lyrical beauty.

For their consistently high technical standards and imagination, Müller-Schott’s performances are as recommendable as any among recent recordings.