Pure pleasure. There are 32 shortish movements here‚ mostly light but not slight‚ brief but not insubstantial. It is immediately obvious that the Galliard Ensemble are enjoying themselves greatly‚ and by this I don’t mean that they play with rumbustious joviality (except where required‚ of course). It’s more a question of knowing that the very tricky staccato ostinato figures in the third of Ligeti’s Bagatelles make a wonderful contrast to the elegantly lyrical melody if they’re played with absolute but unassertive precision‚ or that a hint of raucousness makes an irresistible difference to the last of Farkas’s Old Hungarian Dances. It means that Ibert and Hindemith‚ though both writing genial music for the same combination of instruments‚ should sound quite different‚ and in Hindemith’s slow movement it means realising that his tempo direction‚ ‘peaceful and simple’‚ demands that the beautiful long line should unfold smoothly‚ without fancy phrasing or unnecessary rubato. This‚ in short‚ is wind quintet playing of great distinction. With this repertory Galliard might seem to be ploughing an easier furrow than on their first disc for Deux­Elles‚ of chamber music by Birtwistle (11/01)‚ but in fact it takes just as much skill‚ though of a different kind‚ to work out how much archetypal Ligeti there is in the Bagatelles alongside so much obvious Stravinsky and Bartók. And of a third kind to underline the sly humour of Norman Hallam’s dance parodies: his ‘Quickstep’ is obviously danced in evening dress to a wind­up gramophone; his ‘Waltz’ is of the New Orleans‚ not the Viennese variety. There is more than parody to Eurico Carrapatoso’s adroit homages (to Bartók‚ Stravinsky‚ Messiaen‚ Webern and Tailleferre) and more than humour to Berio’s charming sequence of animal stories. From this admirably recorded disc you also get a very good idea of how enjoyable the Galliard’s public concerts must be. Strongly recommended.