This recording, along with the forthcoming Vol.2, represents a first, comprehensive anthology of the Russian nocturne in its nearly two-hundred-year development. Some nocturnes are recorded here for the first time. The earliest Russian nocturnes were composed by Mikhail Glinka (1804–1857) and owe a debt to his teacher, the Irish composer John Field. The first, in E flat, was written in 1828 before his first trip to Italy. His Nocturne in F minor ‘La Séparation’, written at the height of his career, is styled like a ‘romance’ (song) without words. Karl Eduard Hartknoch (1796–1834) made his debut in 1816 as a concert pianist in Leipzig. In 1824 he moved to Russia, first to St. Petersburg and then to Moscow where he worked as a music teacher. He left a considerable number of piano compositions, including two concertos and the three Nocturnes Op.8. Anton Rubinstein (1829–1894) was a key figure in the history of Russian music, the first of the nation’s composers whose works for solo piano embodied the same serious artistic ideas as his symphonies and chamber music. He wrote eleven Nocturnes, two of them for piano four hands. The two Nocturnes by Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893) were written in the 1870s and are regarded as real jewels of Russian music. Tchaikovsky was interested in the subtle movements of the human soul, and like his symphonic and operatic works, his nocturnes abound with the heartfelt poetry of everyday life. Alexander Scriabin (1872–1915) was famous during his lifetime as a piano virtuoso, known for performing his own music. Scriabin wrote the majority of his works for the piano, and the two Nocturnes Op.5 reveal the influence of Frederic Chopin (his model during his early years). While not the first, the Nocturne for the Left Hand in D Flat is perhaps the greatest 19th-century masterpiece written for the left hand. Konstantin Antipov (1859–1927) was a member of the Belyaev Group. He graduated from Rimsky-Korsakov’s composition class at the St Petersburg Conservatory in 1886. Antipov is the author of a symphonic allegro, piano pieces (including two nocturnes), romances and other works. Alexander Glazunov (1865–1936) was an outstanding composer, conductor, educator, and social activist. He worked at the St Petersburg Conservatory for almost 30 years, directing it for more than 20. His style is characterized by attention to texture, harmonic sumptuousness and clarity of melodic lines. Vasily Kalinnikov (1866–1900) lived a short but eventful and creative life. His most significant output was orchestral: symphonies, intermezzos and incidental music for Tolstoy’s Tsar Boris. He wrote just seven works for the piano in the 1890s. His impressionistic Nocturne in F-sharp minor resembles lyrical miniatures in the spirit of Tchaikovsky.

Over the course of his long and eventful career, Dussek composed 38 violin sonatas – or rather sonatas for the keyboard, accompanied by the violin – and the partnership of Julia Huber and Miriam Altmann is acquiring impressive credentials and critical praise as they gradually uncover them for the first time.

‘This is one excellent disc,’ noted the Fanfare reviewer of Volume 1 (96385). ‘Julia Huber and fortepianist Miriam Altmann give wonderful renditions. Each plays off of each other, with clarity, technical acumen, and a good sense of phrasing… You ought to have this as an integral part of any collection of chamber music of the period.’

Volume 2 (96588) was received with equal enthusiasm: ‘This is an outstanding continuation of the series… done with style and verve by Julia Huber and Mariam Altmann… Well worth getting.’ Volume 3 presents a contrast of sonatas from the beginning and near the end of Dussek’s life. Even the early Op. 4, No. 3 Sonata, however, shares the qualities of the mature Dussek noted by one contemporary reviewer: ‘Dussek's strength in composition lies in the idiosyncrasy, the novelty, the striking, brilliant quality of his rich invention, and, as far as the development is concerned, in the fire and the intimacy which his works seldom lack.’

Fire and intimacy: what else would we expect from a wide-ranging opening movement subtitled ‘L’amante disperato’ (The forlorn lover), with playing indications such as Amoroso and Lamentabile and dynamic indications from triple piano to triple forte?The sonata’s argument is concentrated in the piano part, with the violin marked as ‘ad libitum’, whereas the two Sonatas Op.69 show more of a partnership, albeit still led from the keyboard in the manner of works in the same genre bv Mozart and (until the ‘Kreutzer’) Beethoven.

Both Op. 69 Sonatas take the listener on a gripping narrative through typically bravura piano writing and unexpected turns of incident. No.2 is unusually structured in two expansive halves, while the quick outer movements of No.1 are separated by a songful Adagio subtitled ‘Les soupirs’ (The Sighs’) no doubt for the appreciation of Dussek’s French audience.

Max Reger (1873–1916) is noted for his devotion to Johann Sebastian Bach. His 3 Suites for Viola Solo Op. 131d – completed a year before his death – belong to a collection of works with an ancient feel in the style of Bach, which also comprises music for solo violin, for two violins and for cello. The three solo viola suites all emphasize the polyphonic nature of an instrument that to this day is still considered monodic.

Henri Vieuxtemps (1820–1881) was a key exponent of the Franco-Belgian school of advanced virtuoso violin technique and a contributor to the founding of the Russian school. His Capriccio per viola sola, Op. 55 begins with the instruction Lento, con molta espressione, a character that pervades the entire work. It is packed with rapid virtuosic passages that are challenging both for the left hand and the bow, maintaining a constant dialogue across a range of timbres.

In the 1970s, following years of avant-garde experimentation, the Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki (1933–2020) returned to a more ‘classic’ style, with conventional notation and melodies or small melodic intervals at the heart of his works. This is true of his Cadenza for Solo Viola, written in 1984. It is considered a piece in its own right, despite close links with the Viola Concerto written a year earlier.

Benjamin Britten (1913–1976) composed his Elegy for solo viola in 1930. Discovered only after his death, it can be seen as a youthful musical reflection and commentary on his miserable boarding school experience.

The Élégie for solo viola by Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971), composed in 1944, arguably has the structure of a two-part invention, divided up into exposition, fugue and recapitulation, and the various stages highlight the instrument’s polyphony with echoes of Bach.

Works attributable with certainty to Nicolò Corradini (1585–1646) – likely from Cremona as opposed to Bergamo or Rome as erroneously suggested in the past – are limited to a few printed editions, among them the Primo libro de Canzoni francesi a 4 e alcune suonate (a copy of which has come down to us, printed by Gardano in Venice in 1624). It includes ten French canzonas and four sonatas, works most likely conceived to be performed by several instrumentalists, including one or more possible continuists (because of the speed of some passages and the separation between different parts of often more than an octave).
The canzonas are divided into several sections with structures ranging from simple A-B-A to more complex schemes (A-B-C-A-B-D in the Eighth Canzon); these short musical frameworks offer within them a great variety of themes, imitation between parts and repetitions of sections, ensuring cohesiveness of form. The sonatas on the other hand – with the exception of the Suonata a tre (a simple A-B-C-D-A) – are presented in a more madrigalistic vein. The narrative pathway on which they are based passes through multiple melodic cues so completely different from one another as to suggest a rhetorical structure arching from an exordium to a final peroration. This leads to a proliferation of sections – A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I in the case of the Suonata a due cornetti in risposta. (The specification for two cornets “in call and response” contained in the title of this sonata corresponds to the numerous segments of this piece in which the same melody is first proposed by one performer and then repeated by the other.)

Classical-era oboe concertos, full of flourish and elegantly turned melodies in polished and critically praised recordings from 2000-2. ‘This repertoire certainly deserves your attention,’ wrote the Fanfare reviewer when this album was first issued, ‘for it is an excellent alternative - even a potent supplement - to the Mozart oboe concerto.’ He went on to praise the ‘fine tone’ and ‘impressive technique’ of the soloist, American oboist Nancy Ambrose King. The Janácek Philharmonic play with ‘verve, fine drama, and an excellent sense of unity from beginning to end,’ conducted by Jeremy Swerling who ‘keeps a nice grip on the proceedings, but also allows some flexibility in the way things are done.’ As to the repertoire itself: Ludwig August Lebrun (1752-1790) was an oboist by training, and the son of an oboist at the Mannheim court, Alexander Lebrun. Ludwig evidently wrote these concertos, and another 10 in the same vein, in order to showcase his own abilities on an instrument which was evolving rapidly in terms of technical innovation (projecting further, with more reliable tone) and thus allowing for greater virtuosity on behalf of both composers and performers.
There are four concertos here, and they all adhere to the standard three-movement form and belong to the idiom of the Mannheim school exemplified by exemplified by the likes of Danzi (whose daughter Lebrun married) and Cannabich. There are delicate melodies as well as spectacular virtuosity in music filled with imagination, humour, and depth, not to mention the occasional unexpected turn of phrase. These are not miniature or insignificant pieces. The opening G minor piece is developed with the kind of pathos we associate with the key in the hands of Mozart, and after two F major concertos, the album concludes with a poignant and stern D minor concerto, punctuated by trumpet and drums, and enclosing a noble Grazioso slow movement where the oboe sings like an abandoned operatic heroine.

Polyphonic 14th-century Italian secular music seems to emerge out of nowhere in the history of music. Nevertheless, this tradition – which often goes by the name Ars Nova – fits seamlessly into the history of Italian culture. Our knowledge of it has been pieced together from relatively few sources, which nevertheless reveal three distinct phases. In its first phase, Italian Ars Nova spread out from universities, including those of Padua and Bologna, which had strong links with the dominant and contemporaneous French Ars Nova. In the second phase, the centre of 14th-century Italian polyphony seems to shift markedly to Florence. The final phase, which bridged the late 1300s and early 1400s, shows the influence of intense cultural exchange brought about by an international circulation of musicians and poets caused by the political instability of the papacy’s return from Avignon to Rome and the consequent heightened mobility among the various courts and their entourages.
This phase is reflected in such sources as the renowned Squarcialupi Codex. Compiled in Florence around 1415, it contains over 350 compositions (madrigals, ballate and cacce) and is the source of the majority of the tracks on this album. Francesco Landini (c.1325/35–1397) is represented by five of his 141 ballate and the virelai ‘Adiu, adiu dous dame’. Also from the Codex are one ballata by Andrea da Firenze (c.1350–1415) and two ballate and a caccia by Antonio ‘Zacara’ da Teramo (1355–1416). Three instrumental tracks complete the album, two of them from the ‘London’ Manuscript (British Library) compiled in Florence, probably in Medici circles. In addition to mostly polyphonic music by Landini and other Florentine composers, this tome features several anonymous instrumental works including the lively dances ‘Chominciamento di gioia’ and ‘Tre fontane’. The madrigal ‘Aquila altera’ has a different background entirely: the version presented here is the instrumental arrangement found in the Codex Faenza, a unique volume assembled in the early 15th century containing around 50 Italian and French polyphonic compositions for organ.

On this unique and originally programmed journey, the violist Massimo Piva takes the kind of fantasy journey (Fantasiereise) that forms one of the cornerstones of German Romanticism. It is in the context of highly wrought, fantastic tales that Schumann’s style is formed from a literary point of view: Hoffmann's short stories and Jean Paul's novels, inhabited by bizarre characters and surreal situations, are his polar stars. On the musical side, he had an 18th-century heritage of fantasies by composers such as Mozart or C.P.E. Bach to draw upon, in which the notion of the fantasy is still linked to the Baroque idea of improvisation.
This is the background to the Marchenbilder Op.113, which Schumann worked on feverishly in March 1851. As a masterpiece in his late style, the collection shivers with obsession and fevered dreams. Placing them side by side illuminates the degree to which Reinecke was inspired by Schumann’s example in his own Fantasiestucke Op.43. But this recital moves on into less familiar territory, where the viola’s personality as a melancholy guide takes us to repertoire by Vieuxtemps (an F minor Elegy), Wieniawski (Rêverie in F sharp minor) and Sibelius (Rondo in D minor) by composers much better known for their prowess as violinists, and as violinst-composers.
The recital reaches a natural chronological end with the pre-eminent poet of the viola in the early decades of the 20th century, Frank Bridge. No violist he, but inspired by the artistry of Lionel Tertis, Bridge came to write a good deal for the instrument such as the Two Pieces featured here, and found its mellow, soulful voice a natural fit for his own as a composer. As a former member of the Lucerne Festival Orchestra and Orchestra Mozart, Massimo Piva worked extensively with the conductor Claudio Abbado. As a member of the Quartetto Prometeo he has performed both modern and classic repertoire across Europe, working with composers including Sciarrino and Fedele, and recorded the complete works for string quartet by Hugo Wolf on Brilliant Classics (94166).

Vivaldi’s Sonatas for two violins, anco senza basso se piace (also without bass if preferred), represent one of the innumerable peaks of his compositional prowess. They are structured in three movements, each of which develops in a bipartite manner, making evident reference to concerto form, with only the internal bipartite structure alluding to sonata form. This distinguishes Vivaldi’s approach to the duo without bass from that of some of his European colleagues, namely Telemann (Sonates sans basse, 1727) and Leclair (Sonates à deux violons sans basse Op.3, 1730).
The palette of colours and expressive effects used by Vivaldi in these sonatas is truly impressive: arpeggios, double stops, high-register passages, extremely complex articulations requiring exceptional bow technique, ornate cantabile lines (to be further ornamented by the performer) and even more radical cantabile in the central movements. Here, Vivaldi’s mastery is evident in a sensitive use of lines that are disarming in their simplicity yet tremendously expressive, using a modest language of triplets, appogiaturas and Lombard rhythms in perfect amounts to maximum effect.
A handwritten inventory of the music collection of the noble Collalto family at Brtnice attests along with 15 concertos by Vivaldi to a Duetto, or rather, a Sonata for 2 violins in five movements by one Andrea Zani, a composer who emulated Vivaldi’s music and style to the degree that historians assume Zani studied under Vivaldi for a time. (That being said, Zani stands out as one of the purest and most interesting composers of instrumental music in Italy in the first half of the 18th century. His works – at once original and innovative – are largely yet to be studied and performed.) Sadly all that survives of the Collalto collection is that inventory, but Zani’s Duetto has come down to us via three sources preserved in Sweden. As in Vivaldi’s compositions, the movements in Zani’s work are bipartite in form. Zani, too, establishes the colour palette of his compositions with highly effective progressions, employing the whole expressive armoury fielded by his idol, Vivaldi. Zani’s writing also makes frequent use of a great rhythmic propulsion. Finally, and in contrast to Vivaldi, Zani did not provide a bass ad libitum, indicating his clear intent for duo rather than trio sonata performance.

Antonín Reicha and Sigismund Neukomm were contemporaries. Their time in Vienna, where both were students of Joseph Haydn, crossed from 1802–04, and from 1810 until the end of their lives both had their permanent residence in Paris. It is therefore easy to imagine that their paths crossed several times. In common was their striving to preserve the style of Viennese Classicism, fully expressed in the works presented here.

Antonín Reicha’s (1770–1836) Quintet for Clarinet and String Quartet Op. 89 is typical of his balanced, classical style. Overall, the work reflects Reicha's affinity with opera. The harmonic turns are subordinated to the clarity of the vocal melody and the specifications of the form; everything has its place and its good order. Yet, in spite of this seemingly rigid formula there are surprising moments, for example the long syncopated melodic line at the beginning of the development in the first movement. The clarinet responds to the brash overture-like beginning of the opening theme with lyrically contrasting vocal garlands, whose motives are immediately imitated by the strings; an artfully counterpointing exchange between the instruments unfolds. What at first glance looks like the schematic application of well-learned compositional skill turns out on closer inspection (and repeated listening) to be a successful musical testimony to its time with many hidden and sophisticated ideas.

In Sigismund Neukomm’s (1778–1858) Clarinet Quintet Op. 8, published in 1809, one can hear his desire to manifest admiration for his ‘three-leaf clover’ of influences: Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. In its entirety, Neukomm's Clarinet Quintet radiates more noble elegance than original innovation, and one can well imagine that this expression corresponded perfectly to the composer’s own attitude to life.

New Czech recordings of perennially popular serenades from the pen of Dvorak at a turning point in his career, full of freshness, Bohemian charm and flowing melodies. The Serenades for Strings and Winds never get old, and never lose their appeal, especially in the hands of musicians who feel this music in their bones. The opening of the Serenade for Strings issues the warmest welcome to a world poised between the 18th and 19th centuries, looking back in terms of its reassuring character as music for nocturnal entertainment, yet also unmistakably belonging to the Czech composer’s own place and time – Prague, 1875 – with its Bohemian turn of harmony and yearning cantabile. Composed three years later as a counterpart, the Serenade for Winds marks a development in the composer’s technique – more elegant handling of counterpoint and melodic development – from the earlier work. At the same time, the Mozartian air of good-natured humour is even stronger. Both serenades relax into slow movements of poetry without pathos, and each of them was composed within less than a fortnight’s work, testifying to the inspiration felt by the composer as he worked at his material. The melodies seem to come, as Richard Strauss later said of himself, as easily as a cow giving milk.

The Czech Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra Pardubice has made several albums of Czech repertoire for Brilliant Classics and Piano Classics, most recently the neglected Piano Concerto of Dvorak (PCL10272), as well as the complete piano concertante works of Chopin with Ekaterina Litvinseva, and the Cello Concerto of Dvorak (95696). The recording was made under studio conditions in the orchestra’s home concert hall, yielding a warm, transparent sound which is ideally suited to these intimate pieces.

Attractive Classical-era duets for violin
and cello in world-premiere recordings
by a young Italian pair of brothers.
Despite his French name, Louis
Massonneau was a German composer,
born in Kassel in 1766 and dying at the
venerable age of 82 in MecklenburgVorpommern in 1848. His father was
chef to the Landgrave Friedrich II of
Hessen-Kassel, and Louis received his
musical training at the hands of the
court musicians in Kassel, soon
becoming a violinist in the court
orchestra. The Landgrave died when
Massonneau was 19, and the orchestra
disbanded, requiring him to seek his
fortune elsewhere. This he did in a
series of posts, as a concertmaster of
court and theatre orchestras in
Göttingen, Frankfurt, Altona, Dessau,
Hamburg and finally Mecklenburg, where he
settled for good and retired in 1837.
Composing all the while, Massonneau left
behind a fairly substantial catalogue. Almost
completely unknown apart from a trio of
oboe quartets, it includes three symphonies,
twelve symphonies and six violin concertos,
doubtless written with his own talents in
mind. These three Duos Concertante probably
date from Massonneau’s time in Altona, when
he came to know the cellist Martin Calmus.
Required to perform duets for the
entertainment of those attending ‘Musical
Academies’, Massonneau doubtless found a
dearth of such repertoire, and wrote it afresh.
Calmus himself must have been an
accomplished cellist, because both parts
demonstrate a virtuosity and experimental
spirit shared with the better-known music of
their contemporary Boccherini. Each duo is cast
in three movements, skilfully varied in form
from the others, in which lyrical expression is
tempered by a touch of irony. Haydnesque
touches of major-minor ambiguity lend
dramatic tension to the first duo, while a more
balletic spirit and Mozartian melodic charm
brings a quasi-operatic character to the second.
No.3 is the most innovative in its rapid
conversational interplay between violin and
cello and unconventional range of timbre.
Demian and Dylan Baraldi have made this
recording with the cooperation of the Edition
Massonneau, and authoritative booklet notes
from the Edition illuminate the composer’s life
and work.

Theobald Böhm, who was born in Munich on 9 April 1794, was among the most accomplished German flautists of his age and was a composer and an ingenious inventor who perfected the construction of the flute.

Over and above his commitment to scientific and organological research, Böhm pursued activities as a composer for his instrument and continued to make transcriptions of celebrated works by the Classical and Romantic masters right up until his death on 25 November 1881. In both his pieces based on original themes and the series of variations on melodies drawn either from popular operas or from well-known popular tunes, the stylistic techniques distinguishing his compositions were fully in line with the fashions of his day.

Of a very different nature, on the other hand, is the sophistication displayed in his search for an elevated and musically complex idiomatic language for the flute in his transcriptions of works by the great composers, including Christoph Willibald Gluck, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and the two near-contemporaries Ludwig van Beethoven and Franz Schubert. The decision to make transcribed versions of celebrated vocal or instrumental pieces was an eloquent way of stressing that the 'new flute' Böhm had invented could perform works that posed audacious challenges, without any expressive awkwardness. Indeed, the formulas chosen by Böhm to arrange, vary and adapt these celebrated melodies to the flute can be counted among the most original, and in many respects unique, achievements of the age.

What emerges, therefore, is a sort of catalogue of the expressive possibilities of the 'new flute' and an invitation to explore the quality of sound, an aspect which he considered to be his 'primary interest as an artist.'

Albéric Magnard, born in Paris in 1865, was a pupil of Dubois, Guiraud, Massenet and D’Indy at the Paris Conservatoire, and he frequented the circle of César Franck. In 1896, he became a teacher at Paris’s Schola Cantorum. Then, from 1904, he settled in the countryside on his estate at Manoir des Fontaines in Baron (Oise), where he died in 1914, shot by German troops while attempting to defend the property, which was set on fire along with many of his as yet unpublished compositions. In addition to four symphonies, he is also the author of operas, but chamber music is the genre in which he best expressed himself and into which he poured the influence of Beethoven and the counterpoint of the Schola Cantorum. His last chamber work, the Sonata for Cello and Piano Op. 20 is among his most significant compositions. Composed between 1908 and 1910, it is structured in four movements like all his chamber works, betraying his devotion to German contemporaries and in opposition to the French tendency for three movements in symphonies and instrumental compositions.

Completed in 1905, the Piano Trio Op. 18 was first performed at the Salle Aéolian in Paris in January 1906. Also in four movements, it presents more measured writing than the Cello Sonata or Violin Sonata. The dialogue between the three instruments is refined and balanced without any break in interaction.

These are works by a brilliant composer faithful to tradition. On the whole the music can be described as an innovative and surprising, certainly deserving of wider recognition.

The latest volume in a critically acclaimed series presents modern recordings of Dussek’s exhilaratingly diverse cycle of piano sonatas on instruments of his own time.

This enterprising series has reached the trio of ‘Grand Sonatas’ Op. 35, probably first published in 1798, when Dussek dedicated them to Gabrielle Pleyel (wife of the piano manufacturer Ignaz Pleyel) and Muzio Clementi, the composer, publisher, and piano manufacturer who developed new, more powerful-sounding and reliable piano actions. Dussek, like Beethoven, seized on such technological innovation and produced music of new turbulence such as the C minor Sonata Op. 35 No. 3. The sonata’s opening Allegro bursts with vitality and violence, which becomes all the more vivid when played on a piano from Dussek’s time, straining to contain the music’s expressive reach, as it is here.

The instrument used on this album is a 1798 fortepiano from the firm of Longman-Clementi. Accordingly, the touch and sound correspond more closely than any other piano previously used on recordings of this repertoire. Dussek lived in London during the 1790s and worked closely with the manufacturer John Broadwood to extend the range of keyboard instruments. The English fortepiano lent itself naturally to the harmonic fullness of Dussek's preferred textures, and in reverse, the instrument's characteristic sound and touch inspired and shaped the development of Dussek's compositional style.

Op. 69 No. 3 belongs to a collection of sonatas which Dussek composed with an optional violin part. Nos. 1 and 2 in the set have already received historically informed recordings in a separate Brilliant Classics project, with Julia Huber and Miriam Altmann, but this series presents the piano-only version which all the same contains the full argument of the sonata. In partnership with Bart van Oort, Petra Somlai contributed to Volume 9 in this series, which was welcomed in Fanfare magazine with glowing praise: ‘Both musicians have the requisite technique, and their execution of Dussek’s virtuoso writing is impressive… Both artists play with sensitivity and attractive tone. The recorded sound is fine, with admirable warmth and detail.’

New recordings of early-Romantic quintets by the supreme clarinet virtuoso of his day, an inspiration to Weber and Mendelssohn but also an accomplished composer in his own right.

Heinrich Baermann's career took off once he met Carl Maria von Weber in 1811. Weber was immediately taken with the French-accented brilliance and German richness of tone which Baermann drew from his instrument, and began to write a series of works – including two concertos and a concertino – which still rank among his most inspired instrumental pieces, as well as defining a new sound and reach for the clarinet as a solo instrument The clarinet, now thanks to Baermann, could take on multiple roles, as leader, jester, and magus-like figure to complement the likes of Paganini on the violin and Giuliani on the guitar.

Weber pushed Baermann’s technique to new heights of facility and eloquence, which in return inflected Baermann’s own works for his instrument with comparable ambition. He wrote three quintets for clarinet and string ensemble, the first of them more concerto-like in character, the latter two full-scale chamber works. They have been recorded complete only once before, making this new album from a fine team of Dutch musicians all the more welcome.

Especially impressive are the slow movements of the quintets, cast as arias without words in order to capitalize on the fluid legato of Baermann’s playing, but formed with an economy of means which leaves their themes lingering in the mind’s ear. The Adagio of the Op. 23 Quintet was misattributed to Richard Wagner for many years, which speaks for Baermann’s craftsmanship, even if its harmonic language evidently belongs to a generation or two after Mozart. Now restored to its rightful place, the Adagio is the crown jewel, but there are treasures in store throughout Baermann’s clarinet quintets.

There is scarce information available on Charles Duvernoy – not to be confused with Jean Baptiste Duvernoy (1802–1880), a French composer and pianist of the later romantic period, author of many studies and didactical works for piano. Charles was born in Montbéliard, France, and began clarinet studies in Strasbourg while playing in a military band. In 1790 he moved to Paris where he improved his playing – first as a member of the National Guard Band along with his brother, hornist Frédéric-Nicolas, and then achieving the posts of principal clarinet with the orchestra of the Monsieur Theatre and then the Feydeau Theatre of Saint-Germain, a position he held until 1824. He was also a professor at the Conservatory of Paris from 1800–02 and from 1808–16.

The Quartet No.1 is an unpretentious but enjoyable composition with well-conceived themes in all three movements and strong connections to the classical Viennese period. The 3 Themes and Variations employ simple themes with an introduction (in a minor key for No.1 and 2) before developing them in five variations (No.1 & 2) and three variations (No.3). The two Airs varies (chosen from the 6 Airs varies) were also conceived in theme and variations form. The style is purely classical and resembles other Airs (or Sonatas) written by French composers such as Lefevre, Devienne or Buteaux. Originally written for C clarinet and bass, this recording uses a B flat clarinet and basset horn for a better timbral match. For authentic colour, the clarinet is an early, original Lefevre six-key boxwood instrument from the early 19th century.

Frédéric-Nicolas’s Trio No.1 is the work of a virtuoso hornist. In 1788 he went to Paris and joined the Orchestre de la Comédie italienne. Two years later he became hornist of the Orchestre de la Guarde National and later was a professor at the Paris Conservatory, where he served until 1815. He also played in the Orchestre de l’Opéra de Paris from 1796–1817. He left a great number of horn pieces including 12 horn concertos, trios, nocturnes, quintets, etc. The Trio recorded here features a well-developed first movement and a second movement consisting of a short theme with four carefree variations ending in a brilliant coda. The horn is substituted with the more velvety, nasal colour of the basset horn, creating a new, interesting timbral combination.