John Wilson and the Sinfonia of London continue their exploration of the orchestral works of Kenneth Fuchs in a second volume which includes two concertos, one for bass trombone and the other for alto saxophone, both of them special.

Fuchs drew his inspiration for the alto saxophone concerto Eventide from the Riverside Church in New York City, where he witnessed ‘the mysterious quality of the sunset light’ penetrating the stained glass windows. His set of fantasy variations references two Spirituals, their characteristic three-note intervals embellished in the introduction by the soloist over a shimmering tinsel of percussion. The nocturnal variations continue in a ‘Con fantasia’ with divided strings all aglow in the acoustic of St Augustine’s, Kilburn, a ‘Nachtmusik’ with saxophone and orchestral players in imitation of things that go bump in the night, then ‘“Bong” like a church bell’, a spooky scene heightened by the soloist employing multiphonics. A scurrying scherzo, suggesting that the composer may have had choreography in mind, lands with biting wit, before a tranquil coda where church bells have the final say. Soloist Timothy McAllister gives a warm and glittering performance, the timbre of the alto saxophone offering a sweet reminder of its past as a staple of the dance band era.

No one who heard James Buckle play Nelson Riddle’s arrangement of Gershwin’s Second Piano Prelude at a BBC Prom last season will be surprised to hear him bring the same touch of insouciance to Fuchs’s Bass Trombone Concerto. My, how he identifies with that blue opening phrase, seamlessly gliding through the lyrical lines with impeccable intonation, his agility awe-inspiring. A whiff of greasepaint informs the theatrical second movement with its balletic counterpoint, a suggestion of patter-song here, a burst of drum kit there. Soloist and orchestra ride in tandem in the Allegro poco agitato, dashing through the Latin-tinged scoring, landing punches left, right and centre in the stereo sound picture to the terrific finish.

Point of Tranquility, an ‘Idyll for winds, brass, strings and percussion after a painting by Morris Louis’, unfolds ‘as if mirroring the viewer’s eye as it moves across the canvas’, to quote from Guy Rickards’s inestimable notes. The musical landscape is captured in imaginative and colourful orchestration beginning with a slow chorale emerging from the deep. John Wilson ensures each section of the orchestra speaks to the listener, the conductor’s ear finely tuned.

Light Year was composed for Wilson and his orchestra in the wake of Vol 1’s Cloud Slant (10/23) and once again it takes its cue from the artist Helen Frankenthaler. If this suite of six canvases for virtuoso orchestra on our sky at night bears an occasional resemblance to the earlier work, the orbit is set anew in scale and content, offering marked contrasts from the sombre view of a parched ‘Lunar Valley’, painted in mesmeric detail by woodwinds and brass, to ‘Hot Ice’, a devilish scherzo where woodwind instruments attempt (vainly?) to stay afloat in a melting world. ‘Constellation’ gathers themes and thoughts, crumbs of comfort perhaps, but there’s no mistaking a trait of light on the track that gives the suite its title, a brilliant toccata where each section of the orchestra resonates under the conductor’s assured and insightful direction.

The scope and flair of the playing in this second volume of Fuchs’s orchestral works, and the range of music presented, make it essential listening, not least for the inclusion of those two concertos.