The Masonic Concert de la Loge Olympique that premiered these splendid works in 1787 comprised some 60 players, flamboyantly attired in sky-blue dress coats. I’d be intrigued to hear a period-instrument version on the same grand scale. Still, William Christie’s crisp band, numbering roughly half the Loge Olympique forces, make an invigorating case for four of the ‘Paris’ set in these live recordings, whose spontaneity more than offsets a few moments of ragged ensemble. Textures are ideally clear throughout, though the close miking proclaims Christie an inveterate sniffer.

Compared with rival period versions from Kuijken (Virgin, 2/90, 5/90), Brüggen (Philips, 11/99) and Harnoncourt (DHM, 8/05) – all using slightly larger forces – Christie favours more urgent tempos in both fast and slow movements. The Allegro first movement of No 84 is engagingly dapper, with more than a whiff of opera buffa, while the gracious main theme of No 85’s opening Vivace (where Harnoncourt is laboriously slow), floats airily across the bar line. Trumpets and drums are given their head in the magnificent first movement of No 86, where Christie and his players finely balance grandeur and nervous energy.

The minuets, too, are nicely characterised. No 84’s has an ancien régime poise, with teasing embellishments on repeats (a recurrent feature in all these performances), while high horns whoop in the lusty minuet of No 85. The bucolic trios of Nos 85 and 86 have an easy Ländler sway, though some may raise an eyebrow at the zany bassoon cadenza in No 85. There are mini-cadenzas and flourishes elsewhere, too. Whether they irritate or add to the fun is your call. Horn and bassoon have their moment near the end of No 87’s finale. I couldn’t resist a smile, either here or at the slithery violin improvisations amid the conspiratorial mischief of No 86’s proto-Rossinian finale.

Mobile tempos work well enough in No 84’s 6/8 Andante, with its exquisite – and poetically played – woodwind cadenza, and in the perky Allegretto variations of No 85, even if other conductors, Brüggen especially, find more room for delicate sentiment here. The superlative wind players also shine in the meditative Adagio of No 87. My one serious reservation is Christie’s eccentrically swift tempo for No 86’s strange and powerful Capriccio. Timings tell. Other performances, including the three rival period versions mentioned earlier, typically take between six and a half and seven minutes. Christie dispatches it, perfunctorily, in 4'46". I hear no brooding mystery, no tension, no suggestion of what makes this movement such an outlier in Haydn’s late symphonies.

This proviso aside, lovers of the ‘Paris’ Symphonies (I assume there’s a follow-up volume in the pipeline) will find much to charm and exhilarate in these sparkling performances. As a bonus, Théotime Langlois de Swarte gives a deft, sweet-toned reading of Haydn’s early C major Violin Concerto, spinning a pure line in the serenading Adagio. He could, though, have risked a wider dynamic range, and let himself go in the Presto finale, which sounds distinctly sober alongside, say, the impishly darting Midori Seiler with Concerto Köln (Berlin Classics).