It’s been said before but it’s worth restating: Beethoven described both of the works on this album as sonatas for pianoforte and violin, in that order. So, given that the piano opens each movement of Op 30 No 2, it’s captivating to hear what Andrew Armstrong does with his spotlight. He has a wonderful ability to create an atmosphere in an instant, as if he’s pulling the music out of the air – a quality on display throughout his Beethoven cycle with James Ehnes, but particularly striking in this black diamond of a C minor masterpiece.

And it really does sparkle. It’s difficult to write about the focused intimacy with which Ehnes joins in the Adagio, or the way the players balance their musical lines against each other in near-ideal dialogue, without implying that these intelligent, refined performances are somehow precious or mannered. Nothing could be further from the truth. The conversation is spontaneous, the storytelling is packed with character, and both sonatas are played with an alertness that might feel impatient if it wasn’t so affectionate. Op 30 No 2 is contemporary with the Second Symphony: Armstrong and Ehnes never let you forget that this is young man’s music.

In the sublime opening movement of Op 96 (Ehnes starts things off this time) there’s an almost improvisational quality: tenderness leavened by a humour that turns deliciously deadpan in the Scherzo. The finale plays out with just as much of a sense of adventure: not a valediction to the violin sonata, but an open question. That Armstrong and Ehnes achieve this in the context of a performance that is so satisfying on its own terms is the measure of their achievement – and a wonderfully positive conclusion to a life-enhancing cycle.