Gleaned from recording sessions spanning six years between 1995 and 2001, the work of Johann Friederich Fasch (1688-1758) represents the main focal point here. Fasch senior was an especially notable contemporary of Bach’s, remembered as much for withdrawing his candidature for the Thomaskantor job (which Bach eventually landed) as for his just reputation as a composer who straddled the Baroque and Rococo with a felicitous and sure touch. We hear him in these two cantatas operating confidently in the slipstream of Telemann’s transparent and fashionable setting of text with the conventional pattern of recitatives, da capo arias and chorales.

‘Wir müssen alle offenbar werden’ is the more accomplished of the two cantatas, written for Advent 1722; it delights in the most tuneful ritornelli, strongly reminiscent in character of several of Bach’s more intimate major-keyed arias from his Leipzig cycles from around that time. The reflective soprano aria, ‘Ich weiss, du lasst’, captures the poignancy of the believer’s trust in God’s covering ‘the mound of my sins so that it cannot condemn me’. A languorous flute accompanies a sighing motif which seems exceedingly well-judged by any contemporary standard. It is a memorable set-piece, enhanced by the affecting and poised singing of soprano, Maria Zádori who, along with the ubiquitous and comforting strains of Klaus Mertens, represent the best of the soloists.

Hermann Max has already achieved a great deal in introducing examples of German 18th-century music caught in all the obvious historical traps and prejudices. The Overture in B flat is a work of almost sturm und drang intensity – although conceived in the same mould as Telemann’s Darmstadt Suites – which Das Kleine Konzert execute with a thrilling and colourful immediacy. The actual overture boasts an irresistible, thrusting energy underpinned by a mature harmonic language. Max guides his colleagues through the dances with all the attention to detail one would hope for in a fine example of late-Baroque ensemble virtuosity. Psalm 119 by the son, Carl (1736-1800), contributes significantly to the interest in this generous programme. In the best family tradition, the younger Fasch composes in a progressive style. This fascinating work combines several anachronisms with late-classical sentiments and intermittently, and most curiously, a very definite early-19th century choral style which has all the hallmarks of a broody young Mendelssohn. Despite some sterile moments, this substantial Psalm setting calls for confident high-register work from Zádori and other soloists (for whom it is often a touch too demanding), and tight ensemble from an a cappella Rheinische Kantorei. Maybe Fasch was one of the few who knew Bach, Mozart and Beethoven? He taught Carl Zelter (who took over his Sing-Akademie in Berlin) who himself taught Mendelssohn – yet more links to ponder. In the midst of all this, both these Faschs deserve to be heard and enjoyed.