This is, as you’d expect from this violinist, a disc that offers beauty and thought-provoking musicianship in equal measure. And I admire Chailly greatly as a Brahmsian who never loses sight of the essential classicism at the heart of his writing. That said, Chailly also conveys wonderfully well the epic quality of the huge opening tutti. As a reading, it’s fundamentally darker than Julia Fischer’s recent identical coupling. Repin relishes the work’s moments of delicacy as much as the declamatory ones. Nothing is ever effortful: even the tortuous double-stopping seems to leave him entirely unfazed. The first-movement cadenza, too, is ease personified.

The slow movement is one of the highlights of the CD, and it’s good to have a credit for the solo oboist (Henrik Wahlgren), who duets with Repin quite ravishingly. Many violinists are tempted to go for more overt emotionalism here, and Fischer is noticeably more tremulous in her reading of the Adagio. Repin’s finale has just enough oomph to convince: this is a movement where an overdose of classicism can miss the point. Altogether, what’s striking about this reading is how little conflict you sense between soloist and orchestra. Sometimes I felt it was too harmonious a relationship, but Repin is such a persuasive artist that it’s easy to be seduced by the results.

The Double Concerto I found more problematic. Every time I played the Capuçons as comparison (or the peerless Oistrakh/Fournier duo), this new version seemed just slightly bland. It’s not the playing, per se, but the relationship between the two soloists, which never really ignites. Temperamentally they sound mismatched. Fischer and Müller-Schott might be too heart-on-sleeve for some but I still find that preferable to this coolness, though the Gewandhaus are on glorious form, the horns a particular treat.

A mixed bag then. The disc is worth hearing for the Violin Concerto alone, but if the Double is your priority, I’d opt for the Capuçons or that classic Franco-Russian alliance.