Distance doesn’t lend enchantment to the woodwind, pale rather than pungent in a symphony where they play a crucial role. Nor does distance lend force to the timpani, weak in its underpinning of the foundation. Yet internal balance within the orchestra is dexterously managed by Thomas Dausgaard. And his pacing of the opening Adagio instils confidence, the line shaped by phrases stretched and contracted, dynamics thoughtfully graded, the interpretation of the whole work thoughtfully considered. Etiolated sound diminishes contrasts – for example, the forceful fortissimo central section of the slow movement – but doesn’t enfeeble an interpretation which is particularly arresting in the finale. At the first fortissimo in bar 47, Dausgaard turns a lilting Allegro moderato into a ferment of shifting moods wrought through restless tempi, though all within the sight of a basic pulse. Wrath-inducing? Maybe, but what aplomb.

And a new perspective, of volatile subjectivity not only extracted but also extended to some of the incidental music for Rosamunde. Declamatory force in the B minor Entr’acte No 1 is complemented by persuasive pianissimos and much pointed detail in the Entr’acte No 3, marked Andantino. The sound gradually improves too, at its best in the final B minor Ballet Music No 1, the power of the piece better communicated, the three trombones a more tangible presence. BIS are below form but Dausgaard doesn’t pull his punches.