Both in his musical and literary responses, Christian Gerhaher leaves nothing unquestioned. Each word is weighed. Each note calibrated. Yet for all that, seemingly spontaneous and instinctive, the result is neither overegged nor loses sight of the overarching impulse. When it comes to line and shading, resolute truthfulness is all.

Accompanied by his regular partner in song, Gerold Huber, he achieves a near-perfect synthesis between words and music, singing his native German poetry with an eloquence that would be hard to surpass today, or at any time.

The voice is still extraordinarily beautiful…Huber’s piano-playing, meanwhile, is a constant marvel of sensitivity and control. In every bar you can sense the closeness of the partnership…Perhaps the greatest achievement, though, is that all this care and attention is worn so lightly: Gerhaher and Huber achieve an almost alchemistic feat in making so much artistry feel so natural…This is an album to treasure and to savour – and to listen to again and again.

This first instalment of Gerhaher and Huber’s complete Schumann series is hands-down one of my personal favourites of the year – the quiet heartbreak of the lovelorn window-cleaner and gardener in the Op. 107 songs brought tears to my eyes, whilst the new muscularity which made Gerhaher such a compelling Amfortas earlier this year pays dividends in the sharply-etched drama of Die Beiden Grenadiere.

There is no doubt that Schumann brings the very best out of [Gerhaher]...there is no sense of any kind of routine on this album. Such freshness is as obvious in his performance of some of the slighter numbers as it is in the authentically great songs of the Kerner set, the best of them as fine as anything in Dichterliebe.