The big story here is the first recording of a previously undiscovered seventh unaccompanied violin sonata by Eugène Ysaÿe. Philippe Graffin explains its provenance in the booklet notes: apparently it was originally intended as the Sixth Sonata, dedicated (like the work that was eventually published as the Sixth) to the Spanish violinist Manuel Quiroga. Ysaÿe abandoned it for unknown reasons but not before sketching most of a three-movement work. Graffin supplied the closing section (less than a minute) of the finale ‘in the most Ysaÿe-esque way I could’, and I certainly couldn’t spot the join.

Played with flourishing panache and easy command, it makes an electrifying opening to this deceptively titled recital: essentially a survey of the early 20th-century Parisian scene. Graffin and the pianist Claire Désert approach Enescu’s mighty Third Sonata from an unashamedly Gallic perspective. No striving for folk effects here (Enescu provides more than enough Romanian folk colour, anyway); instead, there are a brilliance, a sly humour and a Stravinsky-like clarity and bite that place this extraordinary music in the modernist tradition. Enescu was a contemporary of Brancusi, after all.

The pair dispatch it with the same controlled energy and sense of light and shade that they bring to Ravel’s Sonata. There’s a real feeling of dialogue; Désert is delicate but never precious, and the shorter pieces share the general mood of passion tempered by refinement. Graffin’s gleaming, elegant virtuosity never degenerates either into lassitude or fireworks for fireworks’ sake, and the exquisite little unaccompanied transcription of Clair de lune (co written with David Matthews) deserves to become a standard encore – though I strongly suspect that, like everything on this splendid disc, it’s not remotely as effortless as Graffin makes it sound.