An unusual pairing but these two works, written at the end of their composers’ tragically short lives, form a striking contrast: the Schubert, with passages of unearthly serenity, and the Mendelssohn, to quote John Largess’s booklet-notes, ‘a journey into darkness’. The Miró must be one of the most technically accomplished of today’s quartets; the members take delight in achieving perfect intonation and blend, and in finding a balance that allows the music’s sense to come over with the greatest clarity.

This detailed, probing approach extends to matters of phrasing and expression – I’ve never heard the Schubert Scherzo shaped so persuasively and with such unanimity – and everything the quartet do gives evidence of thought and purpose. It’s possible, however, for such care and refinement to be counter-productive; the Mendelssohn perhaps comes over as too beautiful and elegant to convey fully the work’s raw emotion. The Psophos Quartet’s recording is more intense in sound and rhythmic drive, and one senses that the players are feeling the music’s agitation as they perform, whereas the Miró is recollecting it in tranquillity.

The Schubert is another matter; the long melodies are shaped with loving care, the sound is wonderfully balanced and the performance is full of memorable moments – the perfectly matched violins and cellos in the first movement’s second theme, the magical pianissimi in the Adagio, the amazingly dark, rich D flat harmonies in the Scherzo’s middle section. Imaginative, polished and expressive – an account of the Schubert I’ll want to return to many times.