There’s a special feeling of intimacy and mutual understanding in Yuuko Shiokawa and András Schiff’s music-making – not surprising given they’re also life partners – that makes their relatively rare appearances together on records particularly valuable.

Here, in the opening Vivace ma non troppo of Brahms’s G major Sonata they navigate the movement’s emotional ebb and flow with assurance, sensitivity and a palpable sense of unified purpose. Yes, their tempo is relaxed at first, but that essential impression of vivace soon reveals itself, and I love how unobtrusively they make one aware of the music’s unequal phrase lengths. Throughout, Shiokawa’s pure, svelte tone conveys a delicacy that’s quite affecting, and Schiff is tonally (and totally) in sync – listen, say, to his breathtaking pianissimo as we slip into B major around 2'32".

The duo illuminate details in the Adagio as well. I’d never quite noticed, for example, how the deep sighs of the violin’s entrance are echoed as the central funeral march (played here with something near despair) recedes into the distance at 3'09". I do wish the opening of the finale was played a little softer (it’s marked piano and dolce), but this is nitpicking and there are many memorable moments, like the oh-so-expressive return of the opening at 2'30". I appreciate, too, the way Shiokawa’s singing tone dominates the proceedings as it holds true to the movement’s origins in the third and fourth lieder of Op 59.

I certainly appreciate the light touch Shiokawa and Schiff bring to Schumann’s interpretatively tricky D minor Sonata, and I was pleased to feel the spirit of Mendelssohn hovering over the work. They also do a marvellous job of holding the first movement together, as it often sounds episodic, but taking this sonata as a whole, I find Christian Tetzlaff and the much-missed Lars Vogt to be more persuasive advocates (Ondine, 1/14). In the highly repetitive final movement, especially, the latter pair sweep one along on storm-tossed seas; Shiokawa and Schiff keep things moving with energy and rhythmic bounce, but it’s not quite enough, and the music outwears its welcome.

ECM’s recordings, made in Lugano in 2015 (Brahms) and 2019 (Schumann), are pleasingly resonant and nicely balanced.