Given that there’s generally a reason why flashy early 19th-century miniatures penned by their era’s virtuoso soloists haven’t made it as far as the 21st century, it was with a degree of scepticism that I greeted this programme of six under-recorded Vieuxtemps selections when it landed on my desk. Sure, nobody needs to eat meat at every meal. But the question was, might a succession of once-popular melodies that have been arpeggioed, double-stopped, harmonicked and left-hand-pizzicatoed to within inches of their lives constitute the Franco-Flemish Violin School equivalent of a quantity of dubious-looking foam garnish in need of something solid to adorn?

I’m surprised to say that the answer is a bit of yes and no. We’re a long way off the depths to be found in Vieuxtemps’s Violin Concerto No 4; and it’s impossible to take seriously the claim that the Duo brillant in A major of 1861 – a cheerily unsophisticated three-movement double concerto lasting under 15 minutes – inspired Brahms’s mighty Double Concerto of 1887. But yes, I’ve been surprisingly happy to get on board with the operatic mood and unabashed and energetic sentimentality of the Souvenir de Russie, written in 1840 in homage to Alexey Nikolayevich Verstovsky’s popular 1835 opera Askold’s Grave. Likewise, I can’t help but hum along to Old England’s quoting of ‘The Oak and the Ash’ and ‘The British Grenadiers’. The Qatar Philharmonic Orchestra under Marcus Bosch throw themselves into the froth with smartly rhythmic, perky enthusiasm, even if there are some weaknesses to upper woodwind tone and textures aren’t always as lucid as they could be.

So who knows. Perhaps if the soloist’s virtuosities were delivered with sufficient insouciant precision and brio, and with his music-making as a whole oozing charm and storytelling nous, then this could have been a surprise triumph. But that’s not quite the level of what we have here. To begin with the positives, Kuppel appears to have got into the spirit of the era’s more solid brand of portamento and delivered it with an enjoyably light touch. Ultimately, however, it’s impossible to get away from a certain lack of finesse. Take 3'34" in Old England, where a flute is handed a solo spot for ‘The Oak and the Ash’ but gets obliterated by Kuppel’s loudly leaping countermelody. They’re also slightly out of sync with each other. Add the odd wince-inducing intonation slip and the feeling of heavy-handedness, and while this album does offer a surprising amount to get your teeth into, it’s not always where you’d want it.