In such things as these, Mendelssohn (or perhaps one should say the Mendelssohns, as Fanny is also represented) are at just about the opposite pole to what appear to be the principles and aims of most modern artists, producers and presenters. They seem to think it a point of honour to ‘challenge’ their public; Mendelssohn would never have conceived of anything so intrusive and patronising. He (and his sister) aimed to produce works for delight, objects of beauty and trained craftsmanship. I wish it were possible to advance this as a vindication of the old school, but the truth is that, much as (in a gentle sort of way) I have enjoyed the programme here, I couldn’t be sure of remembering any one item in it from this day to the next. There is a limitation to so much well turned-out niceness or Gemütlichkeit.

This is especially so when Sophie Daneman sings. She is expressive, but only, it seems, of what is pleasant, pretty and untroubled. To my ears, this is reinforced rather tiresomely by a habit of pressing lightly, or opening hairpin-fashion, on individual notes so that no phrase is sung truly legato. You might think that this would make it more lively, less placid; but no, it deprives the phrase of an evenly singing quality and substitutes a blandly fussy insistence. Sarah Connolly makes something much more satisfying out of the few songs that fall to her, Die Sterne schau’n being one of the more memorable. Mark Padmore and Stephan Loges both make welcome contributions, Loges particularly sensitive to word-setting in Fanny’s Sehnsucht and Die Heimweh.

Eugene Asti, a common factor in all the different singers’ performances, has the finest touch of all, bringing out the life in piano-writing which in hands guided by a less alert mind could well be little more than a conventional, generalised background.