In a brief but perspicacious essay on the Tchaikovsky symphonies, Hans Keller argues that the composer’s ‘individual contribution to the development of symphonic thought was the discovery and integration of new and violent contrasts, of which the first movement of the Fourth is perhaps the most outstanding example’. Integration is the key word here, I think, for Tchaikovsky doesn’t simply lob disparate ideas at us; his design is as subtly detailed as it is coherent.

Manfred Honeck’s reading is not as tightly wound as, say, Mravinsky (DG, 6/61) or Muti (EMI, 3/80) but nevertheless conveys a strong sense of structural integrity while simultaneously portraying the unfolding drama in vivid colours. The transition from the fanfare-laden introduction to the Moderato con anima has the effect of an operatic scene change, for instance, and the violins and cellos sing the primary waltz-like theme with a sense of underlying agitation that suggests a worrying voice heard in one’s own head. I find the conductor’s overlay of unwritten crescendos, diminuendos and stark dynamic contrasts distracting – try at 4'18", where he imposes a sudden diminuendo – although he makes a strong case for these interpretative interpolations in an unusually elaborate booklet note.

I also find some of the phrasing in the Andantino a little fussy – not quite the semplice noted in the score – although the playing itself is exquisite. In the Scherzo, Honeck is meticulous in his observance of piano and pianissimo markings, while the finale packs a wallop. Indeed, the symphony’s final moments are absolutely thrilling, conveying not only the frisson of a live performance but a satisfyingly riotous explosion of pent-up emotion.

Jonathan Leshnoff’s Double Concerto (2018) may seem an odd bedfellow to the Tchaikovsky on paper but the overarching lyricism of its first two movements has a peculiarly Slavic bent – note the first movement’s Shostakovich-like climax at 4'28" – despite its strong American accent. And if the music seems to run out of steam a few bars before the startlingly abrupt ending, it’s wholly engaging up to that point and played with affection and finesse by the orchestra’s first-desk clarinettist and bassoonist.