A breath of fresh air seems to blow through these recordings, made on the west coast of Scotland. The recorded balance is extremely natural and the playing has this quality, too. For all their sensitivity to mood, colour and the expressive details of melody and harmony, Gleusteen and Ordronneau give a direct, faithful view of the music, never tilting the expression so as to offer a partial, personal interpretation.

The approach works best, I think, in the Dvorák; it’s a performance that respects the work’s concision and simplicity (the composer designed it for two of his children to play) whilst entering wholeheartedly into its lively interplay of ideas and colourful contrasts. The molto tranquillo sections in the finale are perfectly judged, Kia Gleusteen allowing the nostalgic melody to be heard as a single expressive arch. This strong feeling for line and continuity carries both players through Grieg’s tempestuous opening allegro in fine style – it’s a truly exciting performance.

The quicker movements of the Franck, too, make an impressive physical impact, but here I found myself wishing for a more personal, individual character to the playing, for those apparently spontaneously inflections of tone, volume and rhythm that make the 1980 Danczowska/Zimerman DG recording, sadly out of the catalogue, so compelling and memorable. In the third movement, especially, Gleusteen doesn’t really respond to Franck’s invitation to play con fantasia; equally, the second movement of the Grieg could have been freer and less constrained). Despite such interpretive limitations, however, the performances are most enjoyable – perceptive, technically accomplished, and full of vitality. And you’d have to search hard to find a better account of the Dvorák.