It has always surprised me that no one had recorded a disc of the six symphonies of J. C. Bach's Op. 18, to my mind the finest collection of classical symphonies outside the works of Mozart and Haydn (and indeed on a level with all but the best of those composers' works). They fit naturally on to one CD and offer attractive variety in that the odd-numbered symphonies are for double orchestra—that is, a normal orchestra playing antiphonally with a smaller, differently constituted one, providing opportunities for unusual and appealing textural effects—while the even-numbered are for a normal group. Some began life as opera overtures. There is some truly splendid music here: listen to the opening movement of No. 1, with its ingenious imitations between the orchestras (J. C.'s father might well have been proud of him!), or the beautiful slow movement of No. 2, with its eloquent solo oboe writing, or the noble invention of No. 4.
This isn't, unfortunately, quite the disc I have been waiting for. The performances are respectable but ultimately lacking in the vivacity and shapeliness that can animate this music. William Boughton does little to give vitality to the bass-line, and he rarely moulds a melody effectively (though sometimes his players, for example the oboist in the solo I referred to above, do it for him). There is a certain heaviness, sometimes (the first movement of No. 3, for example) but not always a matter of a ponderous tempo and a static rhythm. Nor does the recording seem to offer the textural clarity that it might, and that the double symphonies in particular would have thrived upon. Of course, modern instruments are used here; period ones would have helped (the performances of two of the symphonies on Simon Standage's recent Chandos disc, 12/93, are considerably superior, both in sound and interpretation). Well, I do not want to be over-critical of what is certainly a welcome venture, and I shall enjoy listening to this disc again; but I hope someone else will do the same, only better.'