The ability of the 
                French to write felicitously for wind 
                instruments can perhaps be traced to 
                Anton Reicha’s days at the Paris Conservatoire 
                and his numerous works for winds. In 
                later years, the composers of Les 
                Six and their wide and widely gifted 
                circle came to prefer the wind quintet 
                - with its interpolated guest from the 
                brass section - to the more dense doublings 
                of sextets and octets. 
              
 
              
My own personal fondness 
                for the music of these composers and 
                their contemporaries is certainly by 
                now no secret to regular readers of 
                these virtual pages. Rarely does so 
                much good music come from so substantial 
                a group of composers from so relatively 
                small a region. The four utterly charming 
                works presented here are no different, 
                and the Danes’ playing is as near to 
                flawless as anything that has graced 
                these ears in some time. 
              
 
              
Opening with Poulenc’s 
                1932 Sextet - with deepest thanks to 
                the excellent piano playing of Ralf 
                Gothóni - we are off to a rollicking 
                start. It is quite easy to put oneself 
                in Gershwin’s shoes when hearing this 
                music. The bustling sounds of Paris, 
                with its lively and tuneful music and 
                legions of interesting people are evident 
                in Poulenc’s score and if you listen 
                hard enough, the inspiration for An 
                American in Paris is well evident. 
                Cast in three movements, it opens with 
                a flourish, segues into a lovely repose 
                and romps out of its first movement 
                with panache. There follows a charming 
                divertissement, and we roll out with 
                an impressive prestissimo. 
              
 
              
Jacques Ibert’s tuneful 
                miniatures are over before you know 
                it, but what splendid music this is. 
                Less jazzy than Poulenc, Ibert is a 
                more picturesque composer whose music 
                conjures up scenes of landscapes, cloudy 
                skies and tender moments with a loved 
                one. 
              
 
              
Darius Milhaud was 
                one of the twentieth century’s most 
                prolific composers, leaving behind well 
                over four hundred works. His scenic 
                La Cheminée du roi René 
                was originally conceived as film 
                music, but works quite well as a concert 
                piece. Each brief movement tells a bit 
                of the life and adventures of the fifteenth-century 
                King René, count of Provence 
                and titular king of Naples. The king 
                is most fondly remembered for introducing 
                the muscatel grape to the region. 
              
 
              
Finally, Jean Francaix, 
                the youngest composer of the group takes 
                a turn with a substantial four-movement 
                work, which is a good deal more tuneful 
                that what I had originally expected 
                to hear. 
              
 
              
The Danish Symphony 
                Quintet, made up of principal players 
                from the Danish National Orchestra make 
                for quite a force of nature when seated 
                together to play chamber music. Each 
                member a virtuoso in his or her own 
                right, their ensemble playing is born 
                out of being accustomed to orchestral 
                collaboration, and impeccable solo technique. 
                They play with breathtaking ease, and 
                the cantabile that they are able to 
                achieve in slower more melodic passages 
                is to die for. Rhythmically taut, perfect 
                in intonation, and quite capable of 
                displays of pyrotechnics, one can only 
                hope that Naxos has signed this group 
                to a long contract, and that many more 
                discs are to follow. 
              
 
              
This is a program of 
                most refreshing and light-hearted music 
                that is deserving of a place on any 
                collector’s shelf. Keith Anderson contributes 
                his customarily succinct and informative 
                program essay, and the sound quality 
                is of the first order, warm and balanced 
                and clear. 
              
 
              
A highly recommendable 
                release. A fine breath of fresh air. 
              
 
              
Kevin Sutton