This isn’t a new 
                  release. It’s been in the Claudio catalogues for well over a 
                  decade now. Its resilience reflects well on a company that manages 
                  to retain a comprehensive back catalogue. If only the majors 
                  adopted such an accountant-free approach.
                
The programme is 
                  self-explanatory, which is just as well because the notes are 
                  almost entirely devoted to biographies of the two musicians. 
                  Everyone will recognise, whether in English or in Welsh, at 
                  least three or four songs – devotees naturally will be familiar 
                  with more.
                
Huw Rhys-Evans has 
                  a lyric tenor – quite high-lying and seemingly easy of production. 
                  It was no great surprise to read that he’d sung Ferrando in 
                  Così nor that he’d sung Tamino. Of late he’s perhaps 
                  better known as a Rossinian of real distinction and as a Bach 
                  Evangelist. This Claudio was almost certainly his first major 
                  venture on disc. Back in 1991 we find his voice in youthful, 
                  fresh estate and conveying the songs with generosity and sentiment.
                
He manages the very 
                  high tessitura of the second verse of Ar hyd Y nos (All through 
                  the night) with something approaching alacrity. When he 
                  sings solo, as he does in the touching song Hiraeth (Yearning) 
                  it’s with straight-as-a-die intonation and real bardic simplicity. 
                  Such bardic affiliations are reinforced by what is one of the 
                  most beautiful of all these settings, that of Claddu’r Bardd 
                  O gariad (The burial of the lovesick bard) – one of the 
                  Seven songs on poems in the Cywydd metre – and graced by mournful 
                  harp arpeggios and a keening in the voice. Talking of harp arpeggios 
                  brings us neatly to Ieuan Jones. His virtuosity is never in 
                  doubt and fortunately he has solo opportunities to prove it. 
                  I was especially taken by Merch Megan (Megan's daughter) 
                  in which the world of the late nineteenth century French 
                  operatic paraphrase is never too far away. His playing of that 
                  staple Dafydd y garreg wen or David of the white rock 
                  is penetratingly expressive and noble of utterance – devilishly 
                  fast fingers as well. And hear how Rhys-Evans relishes, indeed 
                  is lasciviously in love with, the lisping consonants of Hiraeth 
                  am yr Haf (Yearning for Summer). 
                
This was recorded 
                  in a big acoustic with a long decay – but it’s only noticeable 
                  when songs end and doesn’t interfere with one’s pleasure. Incidentally 
                  Y deryn pur was often known as The Faithful Bird 
                  but is here The Pure Bird  - violinist Albert Sammons 
                  arranged, published and recorded it during the First World War. 
                  Not a lot of people know that.
                
Jonathan Woolf