In the closing years of the eighteenth century Boccherini, who had written most of his vast output of chamber music for strings alone, composed two sets of piano quintets, six in 1797 (Op. 56) and six in 1799 (Op. 57). The latter set was dedicated ''to the French nation'', a prudent move dictated by the political situation at the time; but it did the impoverished composer little good, and in the end the works were published, posthumously, with a dedication to one of the restored Bourbons. Why he suddenly embarked upon piano quintets so late in his career is unclear; the genre was not at all popular at the time. But his writing for the piano is happily idiomatic, even if not exactly Beethovenian, and the invention he found for these pieces is as adventurous and original as ever. The most conventional of the three recorded here is the one in B flat, in traditional four-movement form. There is a march-like Allegretto to start with, with some characteristically delicate invention, often rather short-breathed but when it does become lyrical it is truly beguiling. After the elegant minuet there is an Adagio, partly conversational games between piano and strings, partly exquisite lyrical writing, and then an exuberant finale, typical in its imaginative handling of textures. The most attractive of the three, however, is the E minor work, with its slightly languid Andante lento first movement (though with characteristic contrasts of loud and soft), a gently graceful minuet, and then a real winner of a movement—called ''Provensal'', it is a spirited and witty piece with all sorts of unexpected gambits. It is partly recapitulated, again a typical Boccherinian device, after a short Andante. The C major work is perhaps less interesting as music, but has as its third movement a version of the ''Madrid Retreat'' that Boccherini had earlier used in a string quintet—it is an extended variation movement, with a grand crescendo in the middle as the imagined band, beating the retreat, approaches and passes, and then a diminuendo. A ''Polonese'' rounds the piece off.
Boccherini should not be underrated. He worked in a tributary, far off the Viennese mainstream, both geographically and spiritually, but need not be patronized for that. He had an extraordinarily original and delightfully wayward vein of invention, and cultivated an intense refinement of style and a nostalgic vein of expression that would not have been compatible with conformity to the period's norms. I find his music refreshing and inspiriting, and urge readers to try it. There could scarcely be better advocates than this group, who are clearly at one with Boccherini's idiom and obviously are thoroughly enjoying themselves. Patrick Cohen, the pianist, using an instrument modelled on a Viennese Walter (the make Mozart favoured), offers many sensitive details of timing, colours the music very charmingly and articulates it with great precision, while the string players bring due sophistication to Boccherini's refined idiom and plenty of spirit too. The sound is faithfully captured in the Astree recording. Warmly recommended: I hope these players will go on to give us the rest of Boccherini's Op. 57 and perhaps his Op. 56 too.'