Is the Kronos Quartet really a string quartet‚ or a larger ensemble in which the arrangers and producers are of equal importance to the four string players? The latter certainly seems to be the case with ‘Nuevo’‚ their wide ranging compilation of Mexican music. Take the opening track‚ El Sinaloense‚ for example – a rollicking popular dance cleverly arranged by Osvaldo Golijov and transformed by producer Gustavo Santaolalla’s legerdemain into what sounds like a brassy dance band blaring through an old AM radio. Some might argue that Kronos is merely embracing a pop music aesthetic‚ one in which the musical realisation only comes together in post­production. That would not be entirely fair‚ however‚ for the selections seem to have been carefully thought through long before any of the musicians put bow to string. And‚ in fact‚ the majority of the ideas – whoever they belong to – work very well. Kronos’ rendition of Perfidia‚ a 1939 ballad made famous by Glenn Miller‚ features Carlos Garcia‚ who plays the melody by blowing on an ivy leaf. (Garcia is a discovery of violinist David Harrington‚ who heard him performing on a Mexico City street.) Santaolalla overdubs the strings to create a sinuous‚ lush accompaniment à la Mantovani. A musical prank? Perhaps it appears that way on paper‚ but it is performed with all seriousness to poignant effect. Garcia’s intonation is astonishingly precise‚ and the sound of his leaf – at once fragile and penetrating – imprints itself on the memory. Harrington’s choice of a Stroh violin (the kind with a horn‚ used in old acoustic recordings) for the solo in Margarita Lecuona’s Tabœ‚ is another odd notion that makes surprising aural sense. There are disappointments‚ though. Stephen Prutsman’s arrangement of Revueltas’ concise orchestral masterpiece‚ Sensemayá‚ retains much of the music’s detail‚ but even aided by a battery of percussion‚ the performance lacks the necessary force and weight. Golijov’s K’in Sventa Ch’ul Me’tik Kwadulupe (‘Festival for the Holy Mother Guadalupe’) is raptly mysterious‚ but it seems to be superimposed over‚ rather than woven into‚ sounds from a religious festival (recorded in Chiapas in the 1970s by David Lewiston for Nonesuch’s Explorer Series). And Chavosuite‚ a medley of theme songs from popular Mexican television shows‚ is just plain silly. Juan Garcia Esquivel’s Mini Skirt is also silly‚ though sublimely so‚ thanks to Golijov’s arrangement‚ which does full justice to the inspired wackiness of the original. El Llorar deserves special mention. This electrifying folk/pop tune‚ in the son huasteco style (usually involving violin‚ two guitars and vocalists)‚ is sung here by Alejandro Flores and Efrén Vargas‚ who leap fearlessly in and out of falsetto while Kronos gallops gleefully through the highly syncopated accompaniment. Call it crossover‚ if you will‚ but El Llorar seems to be all of a piece: one is swept along by the music and forgets all about arrangers and producers. Nothing else on ‘Nuevo’ can claim such artistic transparency‚ but at their best‚ Kronos et al offer food for thought and good fun.