This is big-band Rossini, grandly and expertly played and heard in a recording which is rich, deep, and clear. Given the excellence of the solo players, there is nothing routine about the performances (there are memorable cellos at the start of Guillaume Tell and many fine wind solos). It is simply that Chailly's approach is post- rather than pre-1830. Like most contemporary Rossini conductors, Chailly lacks the nonchalance of a Beecham or a Gui in the timing of a retort or the growth of a crescendo; and recent scholarship—research which points up the originality, economy, and guile of Rossini's orchestral writing—appears to have passed him by. Still, though Rossini might have blenched at the trombones' roar in Guillaume Tell and taken refuge from some of Chailly's more eruptive tuttis, there is no doubt that these performances will give unalloyed pleasure to many. As I spent 20 minutes marvelling at the Compact Disc sound—its clarity and the matchlessly quiet background—only to discover that I had failed to press the appropriate button and was hearing the LP version which I'd started alongside it, I think it would be dishonest of me to express a preference. Both versions are excellent.'