The Brahms Quintet treats the clarinet as a member of a five-part ensemble rather than as a lone voice set apart from the string quartet. In this finely balanced performance one is particularly conscious of this; Emma Johnson, when her part is a subsidiary one, blends in easily with the strings, adding a liquid tone to the texture. This is not to say that she doesn’t strongly project and characterise the more soloistic episodes, but the whole account is notable for its feeling of intimate discourse. It’s a performance, too, with a fine sense of momentum, a feeling for the longer paragraphs and for each phrase’s place in the whole scheme. In this respect it contrasts with the recent recording by Andreas Ottensamer and a quartet led by Leonidas Kavakos, which has a rather more extravagant style and concentrates more on bringing out each expressive detail. For instance, listeners may find the suggestion of wildness that Ottensamer brings to the Hungarian episode in the Adagio more compelling, but to me the way Johnson and her colleagues impart a sense of flow extending through the whole movement is equally convincing, as is the way the finale’s variations join to make an extended narrative.

Zemlinsky’s early Trio, from the period he was in contact with Brahms, takes from the older composer an ability to build up an organic structure. He’s perhaps not as adept at deploying each instrument effectively; an elaborate, densely packed piano part tends to deprive the other players, especially the cello, of breathing space. Nonetheless, it’s a fascinating, enthralling work, persuasively presented in this strong, confident performance.