Let’s not get embroiled in the argument as to whether there really are five Brahms violin sonatas – Ulf Wallin and Roland Pöntinen are hardly the first artists to borrow the clarinet sonatas for their own use, and they include the F minor on this first volume. They certainly have this music running through their veins, having previously recorded the sonatas (yes, all five) on Arte Nova some two decades ago. And Pöntinen was also the pianist on Martin Fröst’s wonderfully mellifluous reading of the clarinet sonatas.

Their approach is along traditional lines, Pöntinen relishing the richness of the keyboard-writing, Wallin luxuriating in the beauty of the string lines. Inevitably a switch from clarinet (or viola) to violin in the First Clarinet Sonata creates an edgier sound world and occasionally I found Wallin a little unbeautiful in tone in some of the louder writing (for instance, the first movement, from 3'19", where Fröst has the requisite drama but a more ingratiating sound), though their handling of the coda is nicely done. They take a spacious view of the slow movement, possibly too much so, but the more flowing passages are well judged. Their finale is a particular highlight, truly vivace, with Pöntinen making light of Brahms’s challenging keyboard-writing, which contrasts well with the moments of greater lyricism.

The FAE Scherzo scores highly in terms of dramatic impetus, and the players maintain a strong sense of narrative throughout, right up to the resolute switch to the major at the very end.

At the outset of the First Violin Sonata they are less inward than Tasmin Little and Piers Lane in their recent set. But turn to Nikolaj Znaider and you’re in a different league altogether – combining intensity of musical vision with an old-world warmth of tone and, in Yefim Bronfman, one of the most outstanding Brahmsians around. Wallin and Pöntinen are, by comparison, a touch too deliberate at the build-up to the climax at 6'18" (track 6), where Little has more impetus, albeit with a sometimes astringent tone. The Adagio is an unhurried affair, the piano introduction perhaps a little on the stolid side, certainly compared to Bronfman, with Wallin responding with a warm Romanticism. The passage of dotted writing (from 1'50", track 7) hasn’t quite the sense of build-up of some, though the relaxation when we finally arrive in the major (from 4'13") is affectingly done. The finale works well, the two players bringing a sinuous quality to its narrative, Wallin fining his tone down with finesse and both players alive to its copious switches in mood.

They close with two transcriptions of Brahms songs, both of which are given with plenty of affection but are perhaps just a little too laboured tempo-wise. The recording is a very fine one, which balances the players most naturally.