In the theatre, where these simple but potent stories would make a visual impact, the effect would surely be stronger than on a recording where the music alone creates atmosphere but is otherwise thin. But the performances under Donald Runnicles carries conviction, with several of the singers taking multiple roles and registering expressively.

It would be unfair to say that our attention, even without visible drama, is not fully held…And, as before, Webern and Berg (and now, perhaps, Debussy in the third part here, ‘La mort de Tintagiles’) nourish Reimann’s melodies and harmonies. Especially noteworthy is his contrasting use of instrumental groupings…as in Lear, Reimann augments the drama by the pure sound and tessitura of his vocal writing, recalling his special gifts as a Lied accompanist.

Making restraint into a compositional principle, Reimann has a remarkable ability to suggest more with less…Among the work’s most astonishing and satisfying features are the exquisitely anguished lyricism of its vocal lines…The singing is virtuosic, and the cast carry their multiple and changing roles with true conviction…a bracingly new, simply glorious operatic experience.

The uncanny, crepuscular sound-world of this triptych of claustrophobic family dramas is unsettling but riveting, and put me in mind not only of Debussy’s Pélleas et Mélisande but also of George Benjamin’s Written On Skin. Fingers crossed for a UK performance, or failing that a DVD – but this music conjures atmosphere and drama aplenty in its own right.