This near-complete set of Weinberg’s violin-and-piano works fills a significant gap in his discography (I say near-complete, because the two Songs Without Words, previously thought lost, have turned up in a Moscow archive). The CPO and Toccata Classics discs, each heralded as Vol 1, would seem to have been upstaged. But things are not quite so simple. For one thing, the Toccata Classics cycle is scheduled to include the three solo violin sonatas on what will be three much fuller discs. For another, the Toccata Classics and CPO discs boast superior recording quality.

Still, things are perfectly simple if you want the duo repertoire now and can be content with more-than-respectable playing. From the neo-romantic Three Pieces, products of a precocious self-taught 15-year-old in Warsaw, to the Sixth Sonata, a rock-hard companion piece to the war-memorial 17th and 18th Symphonies which it quotes extensively, Linus Roth and José Gallardo show themselves to be ardent and adept exponents. In between, Weinberg’s ascent to mastery can clearly be followed. The first two sonatas, composed either side of his move from Tashkent to Moscow, show him gradually taking command of the duo sonata genre, with some help from Schubert and Prokofiev. The Third and Fourth Sonatas make another pair, the former working through the Shostakovich influence, the latter boldly declaring emancipation; both were composed in 1947, just before damned-up post-war ideological pressures broke over composers’ heads. Six years on, the Fifth Sonata has the strongest claim to masterpiece status, its harmonic subtlety and rhythmic energy probing deep soulful recesses. It makes its mark even if you don’t know that it was the first work Weinberg wrote after his release from 11 weeks of incarceration, and that it is dedicated to Shostakovich, who had lobbied Lavrenty Beria, no less, for his friend’s release and agreed with Weinberg’s wife to foster their daughter in the event that she was orphaned. Viewed as a gift of thanks, the Fifth Sonata is all the more moving.

The Challenge Classics set places this profound work at the beginning of disc 1 and ends disc 3 with the Three Pieces – which is rather odd. But of more relevance to the collector is the fact that, phrase for phrase and movement for movement, both the Kirpals and Kalnits and Csányi-Wills find more pathos and more range of tone colour and character than do Roth and Gallardo, although I’m inclined to ascribe that more to Challenge Classics’ dry acoustic than to the players.

In sum, if you want all of Weinberg’s violin-and-piano works now, here is a wonderful opportunity. But if you want to experience the music more fully, and want more music to experience, it may be worth waiting for the rival ventures to make their next moves. For good measure I’ve also listed the peerless account of the Moldavian Rhapsody – more often heard in its orchestral version – by the composer and David Oistrakh, who performed it the evening before Weinberg’s arrest.