The first true modern-day classical trumpet soloist, Maurice André is still an icon for many who reckon his unmistakable qualities remain unsurpassed. André is 70 this year (and I believe has finally retired) and DG has compressed his solo work for them onto two full CDs. Following his famous win in the Munich Competition of 1963 (in typical trumpeter’s vein, he resigned from the jury after hearing how much money the winner was going to get!), André went on to become the father of modern playing. As Edward Tarr says, ‘the rest is history’.

Largely through his significant recording work for Erato, André’s discography established his instrument as a serious solo vehicle which in turn promulgated new repertoire, either in multifarious transcriptions or commissions, and spawned players who found that tackling his demanding works often led to ambition prevailing – both musically and technically – over capability.

André tended to gravitate to the easy juxtaposition of intricate passagi and seamless lyricism of the Baroque, almost as if he were an opera singer. His effortless and soaring top notes, cultivated vibrato and a soft-tongued (but absolutely exact) articulation were his stock-in-trade, but like all great artists, he could turn on a sixpence. After Munich, therefore, it was not surprising that the voracious Karl Richter signed him up immediately for the dazzling first trumpet part in his 1965 Christmas Oratorio with the likes of Gundula Janowitz et al. Shortly afterwards came six trumpet concertos with Richter, all transcriptions, by Telemann and Handel. Apart from the slightly drab G major Concerto (almost certainly not by Telemann), these are full of gems. Surely no trumpet had performed on record with such languid expression or subtle coloration as André in the slow movement of the second B flat Concerto?

Of the three Telemann works, none is the famous ‘original’ with the ethereal opening adagio (for that we must hope for EMI and BMG to unlock their André treasures), but the so-called ‘Sonata-Concerto’ from the disc under Mackerras is a treat. Coming 10 years after the Munich recordings with Richter and Stadlmair, André’s sound is generally more expansive here as well as in the spirited Viviani Sonata with his long-time organ partner, Hedwig Bilgram. The Stölzel is also classic André.

This is, overall, a welcome celebration of André’s art but only a snapshot since he recorded relatively little for DG, the majority from the early years. Erato has previously released collections but with too little discrimination between discs of André in full flow and those made in a mist of Gallic nonchalance.