A most curious CD comes from Virgin Classics. It is called “Inventions,” and it showcases a pair of brothers: Renaud and Gautier Capuçon. The former is a violinist, and the latter is a cellist. They were born in the French Alps, Renaud in 1976 and Gautier in 1981. They spend a fair amount of time collaborating in chamber music.

May your own children play so nicely together!

“Inventions” covers a wide array of music for violin and cello. And the Capuçons play as a duo — no pianist (until the very end).

The disc begins with an actual invention, the famous two-part invention by Bach in F major. There are seven Bach pieces here — a prelude, a gavotte, etc. — and they are all transcribed, as you might expect. The brothers play them with intelligence and skill. Their sound is fairly grainy and spare; they do not place great emphasis on beauty. In fact, they seem to have imbibed the lessons of the “period” movement.

But those lessons aren’t all bad — far from it — and the Capuçons are enjoyable in their Bach.

They next play a duo by Hanns Eisler, the German-born composer who lived from 1898 to 1962. This work is squirmy, anxious, and playful. The Capuçons address it with bluntness and bite. (They are direct, really, more than blunt.) Eisler’s duo seems a fun piece to play, and the brothers duly have their fun.

Karol Beffa is a French composer in his early 30s, and he has written two pieces called “Masques”: “Masques I” and “Masques II.” They are dedicated to Renaud and Gautier Capuçon. “Masques I” is haunting and beautiful, and it also includes some churning. I might say, too, that it contains a touch of the blues (as French music often does). “Masques II” brings minimalist lulling, and you may fall asleep to it — but it would not be an unpleasant falling asleep.

The Capuçons play these pieces with commitment and sensitivity, and they are entirely persuasive in them.

Somewhat oddly, “Masques I” and “Masques II” are separated on this disc. In between come arrangements of Bartok’s “Popular Hungarian Melodies.” These wonderful little pieces reflect a variety of moods. Some are zesty and raucous; some are sober and mysterious. The Capuçons are especially good in the earthier melodies, their sound made for them.

We also hear music by Gideon Klein, who was born in Moravia in 1919. He died in a concentration camp 26 years later. In 1939, he wrote a duo for violin and cello, grave and modern. It is incomplete, cutting off before its time. Needless to say, this has a powerful effect.

Martinu wrote two duos for violin and cello, one in 1927, the other in 1958. The Capuçons play the latter here, and it is a delightful piece. The first movement is sprightly and gay, with some folk elements. The second is hymn-like, and then striving, straining – fantastic. And, in the concluding movement, there is some more folk vigor. Again, a delightful composition. In all, this CD is equal to a concert, whose program is well chosen and well played. There is even an encore of sorts — a beloved Fritz Kreisler piece, the “Miniature Viennese March.” The brothers are joined for this by their pianist sister, Aude. The three of them play the piece relatively slowly, and they also play it flavorfully — real gypsies, they are.

And who can cap a concert like Kreisler?

***

The Decca label quite rightly works the Joan Sutherland angle, and they have now released a two-CD set. Dame Joan sings nearly everything here: her arias, her mad scenes, all the things that made the world go crazy for her. It’s good to be reminded, after a singer has retired, what all the fuss was about.

Decca has called this set “Joan Sutherland: The Voice of the Century” — and that is completely unnecessary. It was a good voice, yes, and a great voice, but the Voice of the Century? Over Caruso, Tebaldi, Leontyne Price, and 25 others you might care to name? I understand the need for marketing, and I am perfectly tolerant of hyperbole in advertising. That’s what makes the world go round. But “The Voice of the Century” is a little brazen. “The Technique of the Century” would be more understandable!

In any case, fans of La Stupenda can rejoice in the new collection. And the soprano herself, now 80, might say, “I appreciate the sentiment, Decca, but really … “