I feel like I’ve known the Brahms String Sextet no.1 in B flat major since before I could talk. That’s not an exaggeration: before they were married, my parents went to see the French film Les Amants, in which the slow movement of the Sextet featured on the soundtrack. They loved it and immediately bought a recording of the piece, featuring Isaac Stern and Pablo Casals. I can still remember the effect it had on me as I was growing up: Casals’s warm playing unfolded the opening cello tune so lyrically, and the textures and characters were so beautiful. Maybe this piece influenced my decision to become a viola player: the viola parts are so mellow and rich that it might have been one reason why I gravitated towards it. Many years later, when I’d become a professional violist, I was playing with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe conducted by Alexander Schneider, who’d played second violin on that recording. I told him how much I’d always loved the recording, and he said: ‘Oh, that! We’d just been recording the Schubert Quintet and we found we had a little time left, so we sat down and recorded the Brahms too!’ I’ve often wondered how true it was – there’s a significant wobbly moment in the performance, which you might expect them to have corrected, and their very generous tempos give the lovely feeling of discovering the music together, but on the other hand they listen to each other very well, it’s so beautifully balanced, and the fast third movement is so tight that you think they must have had at least some rehearsal. Listening back to it now, I’m struck by the unforced beauty of the voices, the many charming turns of phrase, the soulful inflection and many magical moments, such as the intimate and wise way Casals plays the theme at the end of the slow movement.