Who was it, again, who said that all music was either fundamentally symphonic or fundamentally balletic? In any case, there can be few 20th-century works that square that circle quite as effectively as Kurt Weill’s 1934-vintage Second Symphony, and the tension between the theatrical and the symphonic is the (very effective) mainspring of this disc from HK Gruber and the Swedish Chamber Orchestra. We expect a certain theatricality when Gruber’s name is attached to anything, and these wide-eyed performances do not disappoint.

So if you’re a fan of ‘Nali’ Gruber’s inimitable vocal stylings, fear not; the opening selection from Der Silbersee finds him (after a rhythmically charged Overture) in utterly characteristic voice. Whether that nasal accent is more Vienna than Berlin is for more seasoned German-speakers to say, but Gruber’s relish is unmistakable: rolling his Rs, occasionally snarling but somehow still managing to drape a phrase and project a long, lyrical line in a way that’s disarmingly seductive. He pulls off a similar feat with the symphonies. Gruber apparently sees the cortège central movement of the Second Symphony as a sombre tango, but throughout both of these works – the sprawling post-expressionist fantasy of the First (1921), as well as the more neoclassical Second – he characterises themes and rhythms with a wink and a sly kick (listen to the wry march that emerges after 3'00" in the Second Symphony’s finale), coupled to an energetic sense of forward momentum. This is music-making that really does feel like it’s telling a story, enhanced by the lucid, precision-tooled virtuosity of the Stockholm players and Gruber’s ability to pace and place forceful climaxes, as well as Weill’s oases of overcast lyricism. It shouldn’t work, but it really does.