This attractive CD is a fresh look at some of Prokofiev’s chamber repertoire, although I wondered whether ‘milestones’ is the word that would come to mind for the Sonata Op 94, let alone the rather obscure Two-Violin Sonata. The album’s major attraction is the presentation of two versions of the same piece, allowing ready comparison: the Sonata for flute and piano, Op 94, and for violin and piano, Op 94a, the latter created for performance by David Oistrakh, at his request. The original flute version is more transparent and pastoral, occasionally reminding us of the flute-writing for the bird in Peter and the Wolf. The violin, by contrast, can give the sonata more grit and intensity, the greater range of pitch inflections complementing Prokofiev’s inimitable tonal chromaticism.

The listener may form a strong preference for one version over the other, although both Boris Bizjak (flute) and Lana Trotovšek (violin) advocate for their respective versions with great affection and sympathy for the style. The well-balanced contribution of pianist Maria Canyigueral allows both flute and violin to take flight over a broad palette of timbres. Subtly different meanings often emerge from these interactions: the flute cheerily flutters around the piano part at 7'15" of track 1, while the violin reaches a brief ecstatic moment at the same point in the first movement (track 15, 7'06"). But the general direction of both performances is towards sweet lyricism and joyful cavorting, with a slow movement that reveals its jazz influences. The darker edges, chilly winds and driven rhythms are mitigated in both performances, and I confess that I missed them at times.

The Two-Violin Sonata dates from the early 1930s, before Prokofiev’s return to the Soviet Union, and it is, accordingly, more modernist and austere. Prokofiev was prompted to write for two unaccompanied violins after hearing another piece for this combination (he thought he could do better), so I was sceptical about Bizjak’s arrangement for flute and violin. But this new version works against the odds, cleverly reshaping various textural ideas and showcasing the excellent duetting skills of Bizjak and Trotovšek.

I was less convinced by the remaining item on the album, an arrangement for violin and piano of six numbers from the ballet Romeo and Juliet, one of the composer’s most popular scores. Prokofiev made his own dazzling solo piano arrangement of music from the ballet, but the arrangement on the album, even with the advantage of the second instrument, somehow sounds much thinner. The pianist is poorly served by the arrangement, which prevents her from conveying the ballet’s grand passions and vicious rivalries.

All in all, however, this is an intriguing start to a series from imaginative and sensitive musicians, and since this album is subtitled ‘Vol 1’, our curiosity is piqued for a forthcoming Vol 2.