Steven Isserlis, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, Viviane Hagner, Wigmore Hall

First, an admission. I have a blindspot for the chamber work of Fauré, Saint-Saëns and Ravel. I've tried my best, acquainted myself with the most stirring recordings of the finest pieces, got friends to hold my hand. But I've never been able to shake off the feeling that these French composers are mostly a bit drippy in this genre, a bit Watercolour Challenge, a bit I-eat-yoghurt-vote-Lib-Dem-and-don't-have-much-of-a-pulse. So last night was laser-eye-treatment time. If Steven Isserlis and his clever colleagues couldn't banish my blindness at their Wigmore Hall recital, no one could.

Thankfully, I only needed to hear a few bars of the Saint-Saëns First Cello Sonata to realise how foolish I'd been about this particular Frenchman. It's not a pally work. Neither performer does much melodic backscratching. Rather, ideas are spat out by cellist or pianist in a rather visceral way. The two soloists appear there to amplify each other's alienation and misery and by turn ours, too. And they did this impressively. The dry, aggressive staccato runs from pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet proved what an infernal atmosphere could be conjured up in the right hands. And to see that impressive grey mop of hair attempt to flee Isserlis's head like it was a lion's mane mid-hunt was a joy in itself.