With his near-contemporaries 
                Laszlo Lajtha (1892–1963) and Miklós Rózsa (1907–1995), Farkas 
                belongs to the “missing link” generations bridging the gap between 
                the maturity of Bartók and Kodály, and the emergence of the younger 
                generation, including Ligeti, Kurtag, Petrovics, Szokolay and 
                Durkó, who were among his pupils in Budapest. A quick look at 
                the Farkas website (www.ferencfarkas.org) 
                shows that his music is reasonably well represented in commercial 
                recordings (mostly from Hungaroton), although I suspect that much 
                of it is still to be committed to disc. 
                The various works 
                  here span some thirty years of his long and prolific composing 
                  life. All but one of these pieces belong to what might be referred 
                  to as folk-inflected Neo-classicism, and none the worse for 
                  that, since the music is extremely appealing, superbly crafted 
                  and warmly expressive.
                Antiche danze 
                  ungheresi del 17. secolo, 
                  also often referred to as Old Hungarian Dances, 
                  is probably Farkas’s best-known and most popular work outside 
                  his native Hungary. This unpretentious, colourful and attractive 
                  work often brings one of Farkas’s teachers to mind: Respighi 
                  whose Antiche danze ed arie per liuto most likely 
                  served as Farkas’s model while composing this most enjoyable 
                  and entertaining piece. The slightly earlier Serenade 
                  was composed for Zoltán Jeney, the flautist of the Budapest 
                  Wind Quintet. By the way, he was the father of the Hungarian 
                  twins for whom Britten composed his Gemini Variations 
                  Op.73. This lovely work is a marvellous example of Farkas’s 
                  folk-tinged Neo-classicism.
                Lavottiana 
                  draws on tunes written by the Hungarian fiddler János Lavotta 
                  (1764–1820), and is a reworking of the Lavotta Suite 
                  for chamber orchestra of 1951. Some of these tunes display a 
                  striking similarity to those used or alluded to by Kodály in 
                  Hary Janos. It is another attractive piece; perhaps 
                  a bit too much of a good thing for some tastes.
                Quattro Pezzi 
                  for double bass and wind quintet (originally for double bass 
                  and piano, but there’s also a version for cello and piano) was 
                  written for Farkas’s son András. It is a short suite of four 
                  character sketches, in which the double bass displays its wide 
                  expressive and tonal range. There are not that many pieces for 
                  double bass, so Quattro Pezzi should come as a 
                  pleasant surprise and a most welcome addition to the repertoire.
                Gyümölcskosár 
                  (“Fruit Basket Songs”) is a short cycle setting delightfully 
                  simple children’s poems by Sándor Weöres. It, too, exists in 
                  several versions, but the one heard here is simply miraculous. 
                  The music is by turns tender, slightly ironic, humorous and 
                  deeply moving for all its simplicity. The composer responds 
                  to the many moods suggested by the words with nicely characterised 
                  musical miniatures. All these settings are disarmingly (and 
                  often deceptively) simple, and – as a result – never outstay 
                  their welcome. This is the real gem in this release.
                As mentioned earlier 
                  in this review, one of the works here does not readily fit with 
                  what I described as Farkas’s folk-inflected Neo-classicism. 
                  The Rondo capriccio for violin and wind quintet 
                  - originally a duo for violin and piano composed in 1957 and 
                  arranged in 1959, not 1966 as stated on the back cover - reminds 
                  us that Farkas was no stranger to modern idioms. He too composed 
                  twelve-tone works such as Prelude and Fugue of 
                  1947. Although in no way rebarbative, the music obviously inhabits 
                  a more austere and stringent harmonic world than the other works, 
                  although it is again strongly expressive.
                I thoroughly enjoyed 
                  this generously filled, superbly played and well recorded release. 
                  Why is music such as this not heard more often, let alone recorded? 
                  Where would we be without all these smaller, independent and 
                  enterprising labels who bravely record unfamiliar, but generously 
                  rewarding repertoire? In short, full marks to all concerned. 
                  A really lovely disc to be enjoyed from first to last.
                  
                  Hubert Culot 
                
              TOCCATA 
                Classics