I thought during the first track, Tambourin chinois, that I was in for another efficient and charmless collection of Kreisler miniatures. Kelemen is placed well forward and slightly too separated from Kocsis for my taste; his tone, with its narrow vibrato and steely edge, is intense and insistent; the Chinese element of the piece is played in such a way you expect Aladdin and Widow Twanky to make an appearance at any moment. But in fact the disc contains, with a few other exceptions, some really superb versions of these delicious morceaux, some of which have received very few recordings. Among these is Kreisler’s transcription of Dirge of the North by his friend Ernő Balogh, the only other recording of which, so far as I know, is Kreisler’s own 1924 version.

Kocsis, who recorded this programme less than two months before his death last November, had been ill for some time from the cancer that killed him. For much of the time here he remains a background figure – not just in the sound picture but musically somewhat disengaged. Yet, ironically, it is in some of the more extrovert numbers that he makes the strongest impression, and he and Kelemen offer tremendously buoyant, debonair accounts of the Marche-miniature viennoise, Toy Soldier’s March, Schön Rosmarin, Syncopation and (the final track) Praeludium und Allegro (though the Praeludium would have benefited from a more robust piano support).

Kelemen shows that he can turn on the charm when he wants (there are lovely performances of the Tchaikovsky-Kreisler Andante cantabile from the Quartet in D and the Heuberger-Kreisler ‘Midnight Bells’ from Der Opernball) but one thing, sadly, counts against him throughout: his stentorian intakes of breath. Not good for repeated listening. But that is not the only reason why once again, while I can happily listen to an hour or more of Kreisler playing this repertoire, I have to have an interval when it’s played by almost anyone else.