Apollo et Hyazinthus (1948-49) marks an early stage in Hans Werner Henze’s lifelong quest for a viable way of countering Germanic hectoring with something less aggressive but no less vividly expressive. Eventually, from his base in Italy, he achieved a productive degree of accommodation with his cultural roots – even with Wagner. But Apollo et Hyazinthus has a very un-Wagnerian way of transforming a Greek myth into a restrained song of sorrow, setting German lines by Georg Trakl. The prominent harpsichord brings a touch of the antique and there are passages redolent of Stravinskian neo-classicism. A decade later, Kammermusik reveals greater stylistic certainty and integrity but the earlier work’s longing for brightness and warmth remains, and is even more deeply felt.

This is not a perfect performance. There are effortful moments in Clemens C Löschmann’s singing and his lightish tenor risks being overwhelmed by prominent instrumental lines – especially the horn’s – in a distinctly dry recording. But the six vocal movements, alternating with instrumental episodes, three for solo guitar, create haunting allusions to an early romantic aura: the result suggests a strange kind of post-tonal Schubert, fitting Hölderlin’s poem extremely well. This eloquent vision of unattainable and therefore infinitely desirable ‘classical’ ideals makes Henze’s dedication of Kammermusik to Benjamin Britten all the more appropriate.

With one short later work – the opulently textured Canzona (1982) – this disc is a salutary reminder of the strengths of a composer whose music had begun to be sidelined well before his recent death. We can ill afford to neglect it.