Paul Hindemith is a composer whose reputation seems to have slipped through a historical black hole. Condemned by the Nazis as an "atonal noisemaker", he was rejected by the avant garde for not being noisy or atonal enough. Nor does it help that he was perceived as a purveyor of gebrauchsmusik, the drab, politicised "utility music" promoted by the followers of Bertolt Brecht.

Yet it's hard to think of anything less utilitarian than a string quartet, and Hindemith's works in this genre were as close a commitment as he made to the doctrine of art for art's sake. All they lack is a passionate advocate, and Thomas Zehetmair has recently risen to the challenge. Next month he conducts the Northern Sinfonia in Hindemith's horn concerto; here, he brought his own group to promote its CD release of the undeservedly neglected String Quartet No 4.

Hindemith's quartet is mood music, the mood being one of anxiety and barely suppressed hysteria. Intensely contrapuntal, yet with jazzily degenerate overtones, it is as if a Bach fugue had morphed into the music for a Berlin cabaret. The centrepiece of the work is a quiet third movement, played with heavy wooden mutes, in which the players thinned their tone to a conspiratorial whisper. They were at their breathtaking best when playing quietly: Zehetmair has commented that when Hindemith marked a passage pppp or ppppp, signifying that the musicians should play as softly as possible, he expected to hear the difference.

The work concludes with a giddy rondo, founded on folksy rhythms, which seems poised to launch into a final dance theme, thinks better of it, and simply stops. Perhaps this is the problem people have with Hindemith - he always seems terrified of having too much fun.