The opening movement, ‘A Sea-Change’, refers to the part in Shakespeare’s The Tempest when the king's eyes are transformed by water into pearls; the oil-and-vinegar interplay between clarinet and strings is a colourful swirl that never properly integrates. So far, so Adès. The following movements take us into more complex spaces.

Simpson, and his part, evokes every clarinet actor in the book, from lugubrious poet to honking roué, like a quick-change cabaret artist or Andrew Scott in the recent Uncle Vanya.

Adès's first chamber-work in a decade has to be one of his most engrossing creations to date. Drawing inspiration from Dowland, Byrd and Berg as well as from Shakespeare's The Tempest, it's appropriately rich and strange, and wears its intertextuality lightly - Byrd's The Woods So Wild takes on a new life in the intricate, gleefully scuttling scherzo (Simpson's agility here is breathtaking) and the Diotimas sound for all the world like a viol consort in the haunting Lachrymae.

What a fascinating and hauntingly beautiful piece it is. A Sea-Change, all descending registers and spectral atmospherics; the scurrying, Byrd-quoting The Woods so Wild; Lachrymae’s evocation of the first Elizabethan age; the Lulu-lifting Divisions on a Lute-Song, plangent cello dive-bombed by skittish, woozy clarinet. Stunning.