Listening to the opening of the First Sonata’s Adagio, played with little vibrato and flexible interpretation of the ornamental flourishes, I thought Ruth Waterman’s set was going to be, like Alina Ibragimova’s, an example of Baroque style on a modern violin. But this is only a minor element in a highly personal series of interpretations. Waterman rates passionate conviction above perfect tone and neatness, as we can hear in her wonderfully stormy account of the moto perpetuo Double (variation) of the Second Partita’s Corrente. Everything here is deeply felt, the product of profound engagement with the music, as Waterman’s own detailed booklet-notes make clear.

Often she takes us persuasively towards her vision of the music’s significance and character, as in the spectacularly energetic Preludio to the Third Partita, and the sweetly expressive Largo in the Third Sonata. Other movements, however, are more controversial – it’s difficult to find a musicological justification for the slow tempi of the fugues in Sonatas Nos 1 and 3 (No 1’s is actually marked Allegro). But even here, Waterman contrives something that’s striking and beautiful – the dreamlike opening of the C major fugue creates an extraordinary effect. It’s the same with the Chaconne – brusque and uncompromising to start with, then much slower and more contemplative as the key changes from minor to major. I doubt whether Bach intended anything like this but it certainly adds up to a powerfully memorable performance.

Waterman’s creativity extends to elaborate decoration of the repeats in several movements. More like variations than improvised ornaments, they demonstrate her thorough absorption of Bach’s idioms. For preference, I’d choose an account, like Ibragimova’s, where style and expressive content are more evenly balanced. But I’d recommend anyone to hear Waterman – there’s so much here that’s stimulating and thought-provoking.