In this year when the centenary of Stanford’s death is marked, it seems very appropriate that at the heart of this disc sit his two works for clarinet and piano. The Three Intermezzi, Op 13, were finished in 1879 for a concert in Cambridge given by Francis Galpin (later remembered in the Galpin Society, celebrating his huge collection of early musical instruments) accompanied by the young Stanford himself. More Schumann than Brahms in character, they are masterfully written in every sense and became very popular when soon published by Novello. In 1902 Stanford then composed a Clarinet Concerto at the suggestion of no less a legend than Richard Mühlfeld (Brahms’s muse) but he mysteriously never played the work despite being sent the score. It was soon rescued by Charles Draper, and to him in 1911 Stanford dedicated his Sonata in F, Op 129, first heard with Thomas Dunhill in 1916. The outer movements are serene and fluent, and the spirit of Brahms hovers benignly – but completely un-Brahmsian is the remarkable central lament, whose title ‘Caoine’ translates as the keening so characteristic of traditional Irish funeral music.

Michael Collins’s teacher Thea King was taught by Frederick Thurston, who was taught by Charles Draper himself – ‘the grandfather of British clarinettists’ as he was known – so the chain of authority here is impeccable. Collins and Michael McHale are an established duo and these performances are completely symbiotic, the one understanding every nuance of the other intuitively. Written during the war years and given by Pauline Juler with composer Howard Ferguson at a National Gallery concert, the Five Bagatelles are deservedly repertoire pieces; and as soon as he enters the room (Potton Hall here) Gerald Finzi is immediately recognisable because musically inimitable. These miniatures are exquisitely crafted and I have no hesitation in declaring these to be genuinely great performances – I’ve never heard better. The Arnold and Horovitz Sonatinas (premiered by Colin Davis in 1951 and Gervase de Peyer in 1981 respectively) are less exalted in level, but the former is brilliantly driven and the latter beautifully relaxed. Horovitz’s Two Majorcan Pieces were inspired by his honeymoon in 1956 and form a heart-warming encore. Michael Collins is now without question the doyen of clarinettists, and this recital reveals a master at work.