Hats off, folks: the completion of the first full recorded cycle of Stanford’s string quartets deserves a moment of acknowledgement. This third and final disc in Somm’s cycle spans the period 1891 to 1911, and extends in style from the Mendelssohn-like lyricism and grace of the First Quartet to the more concise and complex (Jeremy Dibble, in his excellent booklet notes, calls it ‘sinewy’) A minor quartet, No 6 – a premiere recording of a work that reflects, perhaps, a growing awareness of more troubled musical times.

But really, the more you listen to this music, the more distinctively Stanford’s own voice emerges. The way he uses pizzicato and tremolando to lighten the texture, as well as to add colour; the sudden flashes of wit, and above all, the warmth and lyrical impulse that’s never far from the surface even in movements as brilliant as the Prestissimo Scherzo of No 2 – well, you can hear why Bernard Shaw (by no means an uncritical admirer of Stanford) felt that this work was ‘alive with feeling from beginning to end’.

Few quartets can have more experience of Stanford’s style than the Dante Quartet, and as with previous releases in this series, their performances go far beyond mere read-throughs. They’re ardent, alert and thoroughly lived in. The Dantes have a flair for Stanford’s moments of musical storytelling (the lyrical outbursts in the central section of No 6’s second movement are almost operatic) and cellist Richard Jenkinson has an impressive head for heights. Each of the three performances generates its own momentum, creating a sense of each work’s coherent musical narrative. If you’ve collected the set – or just want to explore – there’s no need to hesitate.