Old-school musicologists may scoff but these exceptionally melodic sonatas are now among the most frequently played of their kind. Not that they are without flaw. Rachmaninov’s Cello Sonata, in which the piano is rarely content with mere accompanying, can sound over-egged. Go to Alisa Weilerstein and Inon Barnatan (Decca, 11/15) to hear it presented with all guns blazing. While Hee-Young Lim insists that she plays ‘from the heart’, the results suggest that she and Nathalia Milstein are also thinkers, finding a fresh balance of formality, vulnerability and resilience throughout the programme.

Prokofiev’s score is uncomplicated only on the surface. Dazzlingly conceived for the solo instrument at a time of disaster both personal and political, it bears a Soviet-friendly tag, ‘Man! That has a proud sound’, yet responds well to more equivocal treatment. Lim and Milstein take us on a suitably mysterious journey even with the cello closely scrutinised. Michael Fine’s relatively intimate sound stage arguably suits the understatement of the music-making. Fortunately Lim’s low-lying opening statement is tonally resplendent, poetically shaped and perfectly in tune (a rarity). The pair’s guarded launch of the second movement promises to take Prokofiev’s incorrigible jauntiness in a less blatant direction.

The Rachmaninov Sonata elicits just enough soulful questioning from Lim, who chose the composer’s judicious 1929 recording of his own Second Piano Concerto as ideal lockdown listening in a recent Gramophone survey. Milstein similarly avoids an excess of keyboard clamour. Her debut solo recital (Mirare, 6/18) was Prokofiev-heavy but, working in collaboration, she is well advised to dazzle discreetly. Thus Rachmaninov’s stormy Allegro scherzando is less febrile than usual, at times almost Gallic. The pianist is given a real chance to shine in the slow movement, where the instrument introduces the main theme before the cello is allowed to take over. Here once again finesse trumps any temptation to gush. I should mention that the first-movement exposition repeat is observed.

There are of course abundant recorded recitals offering the same two pieces, Rachmaninov’s Vocalise and more. Captured in 2006, Erato rivals Gautier Capuçon and Gabriela Montero go for a grander lyrical sweep in what sounds like a bigger, emptier auditorium. Rostropovich’s classic accounts, self-recommending for some, are hampered by 1950s mono. The claims of Lim and Milstein are enhanced by classy packaging: there are photographs of these personable young performers, not too many, plus a helpful explanatory note from Tully Potter taking in observations from the cellist. Try dipping a toe in the water with their Vocalise, typically unaffected and elegant.