Writing in general terms, there seem to be two principal routes to the heart of these marvellous works, one relatively straitlaced, relying on structural awareness and beauty of tone (Steven Isserlis with Robert Levin, Pierre Fournier with Friedrich Gulda, Ralph Kirshbaum with Shai Wosner), the other writ large, often with a keen sense of play (Casals performing alongside Rudolf Serkin, Mischa Maisky with Martha Argerich, Rostropovich with Sviatoslav Richter, Daniil Shafran courting dynamic extremes with pianist Anton Ginsburg, and Jean-Guihen Queyras as joint micro‑manager with pianist Alexander Melnikov). Sampling the latter (Harmonia Mundi, 11/14) and comparing it with Gary Hoffman and David Selig on this recent set at the start of the Fifth Sonata’s Allegro – Allegro fugato finale finds Queyras and Melnikov toying coyly with the notes while Hoffman and Selig are keen and alert, setting us up for what’s to come in the way that Max Reger might have done with the best of his great fugal finales.

Hoffman’s full-bodied playing is refined in the way that Gregor Piatigorsky’s and Emanuel Feuermann’s were years ago. Comparing Hoffman and Selig with Piatigorsky and Solomon (Warner, 1/58) finds a common warmth of tone, with the older version yielding marginally to its successor in terms of flexibility, though both are wonderful. The best place to line up all three players is the A major Sonata, Op 69, Feuermann forming an unforgettable partnership with Myra Hess (Warner, Heritage). I mention these older recordings because Hoffman and Selig are in their league, what with their musical integrity and an invariable tendency towards ‘less is more’ on the expressive front. It’s the sort of restraint that puts the music before their own personalities, and the music wins.

Take the Fourth Sonata, the simplicity of their approach facilitating an appreciation of the way Beethoven alternates poetry and assertion using similar material. The First Sonata’s Rondo has a dancing, sing-song quality, just as the Second Sonata’s finale wears a boldly extrovert demeanour. And there are three sets of variations, each parading a wide range of colours, always finely nuanced, Hoffman drawing a slim though strong line, Selig’s playing crisp and keenly articulated. Delving in among available options, while there are plenty I enjoy listening to, I can’t think of a digital set of Beethoven’s complete works for cello and piano that I prefer.

If this is an area where you still seek a secure recommendation, you can purchase with confidence, whereas if you’ve a current favourite, do allow Hoffman and Selig to challenge your preconceptions. You never know, their innate and intimate musicality might win the day even among a plethora of fine rival versions.