One fascinating thing about good music is its robustness and, in particular, its adaptability, making it susceptible to a range of interpretations while remaining undeniably itself. That is why so much from the past has survived, a phenomenon that would greatly surprise many of its composers, including Rameau.

London Baroque has been on the scene for 25 years. The harpsichordist Terence Charlston may be relatively new to the ensemble (he nobly fills the role so brilliantly taken by the late John Toll), but he is unfailingly alert and responsive to the cues from Ingrid Seifert and Charles Medlam, who seem to play together effortlessly, and with style and genuine ‘affect’. Because they know the music so well, as well as that of Rameau’s contemporaries, they are able to bring rhetorical and rhythmic subtleties to it seldom heard or even attempted by other players. This is the great strength of this recording.

Tempi are beautifully chosen and never excessive. There is time to hear everything: they feel well tailored, ideally suited to the musical fabric and instrumental forces. The effect of the big thematic mosaics that inform the large outer movements of each concert (except Nos 2 and 3) is of a garden tour by those who regularly toil in it; their enthusiasm and affection is conveyed in every phrase. For some of us, the exquisite middle movements could go on for ever – everyone loves ‘La Livri’, ‘La Timide’ and ‘La Cupis’. There are no clichés, no sentimentality, only intimacy, elegance and clarity of vision. There is also playfulness (‘La Pantomime’), portraiture (note the pushy interjections of ‘L’agaçante’). Somehow, between the notes, there are entirely new impressions to be gleaned: ‘L’indiscrète’ always seems to convey the image of a busybody; in this performance, aggressive staccato and a harried tempo are replaced by gentler (less censorious, possibly even sympathetic?), brushed bow strokes.

I enormously enjoyed this CD. But I cannot end without noting that even though these were intended by Rameau as harpsichord pieces with added instrumental parts, so musically commanding is the string playing here (especially Seifert’s), that you are compelled to listen to them as though they were trio sonatas. That the music not only accommodates this adjustment of focus but also yields up unexpected secrets is testimony to the artistry of both composer and performers.