the programmes are utterly different. Roctet, billed as ‘the Netherlands’ first permanent string octet’, place it alongside a Double Quartet by Respighi and a commissioned work from Dutch composer Theo Loevendie (b1930). The pairing of Respighi and Enescu is a brilliant one, for not only were both works completed in 1900 but the two composers were still teenagers at the time.

Respighi’s four-movement work is Brahmsian in its warmth and tunefulness, with a radiant slow movement that seems inspired by that composer’s youthful sextets, even if here and there one hears a slight modal inflection that presages the composer’s maturity. The finale is a Presto all’ungherese, rather like the concluding movement of Brahms’s G minor Piano Quartet. I’m surprised the work hasn’t been recorded more often as it is attractive, although heard next to the Enescu, it might seem a little wan. Loevendie’s Changes (2024) is spiky in a Stravinskian way, and the composer creates some unusual colours and effects – try, for instance, the vaporous corkscrew trails at around 3'38". I only wish the ending were less abrupt.

Roctet give a terrific performance of the Enescu. Their collective sound is on the lean side, which allows for exceptional transparency in such richly intricate music. At times I wanted the primary melodic lines highlighted a bit more, especially as in the score’s preface, Enescu asks that ‘emphasis should not be given to certain contrapuntal artifices in order to permit the presentation of essential thematic and melodic elemental values’. That said, the ensemble keep such a firm grip – even in the quietly ecstatic slow movement – that I was riveted from beginning to end.

Daniil Bulayev gives us the Enescu in the context of a recital – part of the prize package for his having won the 2021 Windsor Festival International String Competition. Here he leads members of the Davinspiro Camerata chamber orchestra, which he founded in 2022, and the result is very impressive indeed. Unlike Roctet, these players play with an attractively rich collective tone, and they do a better job of making sure the primary thematic material is to the fore. They thrillingly push the scherzo-like second movement with youthful vigour, and the slow movement is rapturous in its long breathed phrasing.

Bulayev’s recital begins with an intensely dramatic performance of Ysaÿe’s Poème élégiaque – note the searing quality of his tone at 1'48" and then how he fattens his sound at 5'18" – followed by Bloch’s Baal Shem in a reading that’s at once earthy and elegant. For an encore, Bulayev offers Enescu’s 1899 Aubade, a folksy charmer for string trio. All told, this young Latvian violinist is someone to watch.

Vilde Frang’s ardent and golden-toned recording of Enescu’s Octet is my current favourite, but if you’re as obsessed with this work as I am, I’d say both of these newcomers are worth hearing.