How far can we take historically informed performance? The amateur dedicatee of Brahms’s First Cello Sonata was apparently so weak a player that when Brahms, at the piano, drowned him out, he joked that it was just as well. This new recording of the two sonatas makes no specific claim to be historically informed, though both performers have names that come with an illustrious pedigree in that field. Norrington plays on a 17th-century Ruggiero cello and Kuijken, more significantly, uses a Johann Baptiste Streicher piano from 1868, three years after Brahms completed the First Sonata.

What that means, practically, is that the two instruments are immediately on a more equal footing, and that the piano sound is noticeably lean and transparent. There are certainly moments when I’d have liked a little more sostenuto glow from the keyboard. But that’s more than counterbalanced by the dialogue between Norrington and Kuijken, and the sense of shared adventure in their music-making – which combines the meditative and the purposeful to compelling effect.

So there’s a balletic lilt to the Minuet of the First Sonata and a bracing contrapuntal drive to the fugal finale. The pair open the Second Sonata in fine heroic style, and the Streicher piano allows Kuijken to play at full force without fear of overwhelming his partner – to thrilling effect in Brahms’s more jagged climaxes. Conversely, Norrington’s rich, earthy low notes are complemented by her fluid, reflective way with a melody; and the Adagio of the Second Sonata unfolds in a single, long-breathed arc. These are interpretations for the mind as well as the heart, and lovers of these works will certainly find something new here. The three song transcriptions serve as beautiful distillations of the whole fascinating project.