It’s a pleasant coincidence‚ hearing two identical couplings played by two quartets­in­residence at London’s Wigmore Hall (the Sùkampa were there from 1994­98‚ the Belcea as from 2001)‚ both recorded in the same month. However‚ that is where the similarities end. Indeed‚ I can’t think of two Janá¶ek quartet recordings that are less alike. For openers‚ there are some dramatic differences between the two recordings per se. The Belcea were recorded in March 2001 at the acoustically ample L’Eglise de Bonsecours in Paris and present a full‚ resonant sound with a gritty edge. By contrast‚ the Sùkampa’s February­March 2001 Rudolfinum recording favours a close perspective within a generous acoustic‚ which is a very different proposition. Their performances enjoy the more transparent sound. Stylistically‚ the Belcea offer the broader‚ weightier‚ more dramatic‚ even (at times) more violent option. They tend rather to overplay Janá¶ek’s glassy sul ponticellos (beware if you have sensitive dental fillings) but they lunge at his many savage interjections with a common expressive purpose. I was quite often reminded of parallels with the Janá¶ek operas. My one criticism is that the Belcea’s internal balancing is sometimes less than judicious. If you take the running passage at 1'54" into the Second Quartet’s Adagio then turn to the Sù kampa (from 1'32" on their disc)‚ you’ll note the pay­off in terms of the Czech group’s superior internal balancing and lighter touch. True‚ the Belcea take a more romantically intense stand on the music – theirs is definitely a step or two nearer the world of‚ say‚ Schubert’s late G major Quartet – but I rather prefer the Sùkampa’s luminous textures. To say that they forge a closer connection with the Dvo·ák and Smetana is in some respects to state the obvious (remembering that they are a native Czech ensemble) but it does make a difference. And yet the Belcea’s engagement with both scores is beyond doubt. Furthermore‚ their fiercely demonstrative playing is fully justified in musical terms.