During the 19th century, the wind quintet and its repertoire became firmly established. In the early 20th century, composers explored ways to expand it. This disc, featuring wind soloists from the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra on its own label, features a trio of sextets composed just eight years apart, plus a Hungarian Sonatina for oboe, clarinet and bassoon.

These are highly accomplished performances, the players blending beautifully. On occasion this comes at the expense of much character. Janáček expands the wind quintet with a bass clarinet for his Mládí (‘Youth’). The RCO winds play with charm, but it’s all squeaky clean. There are times when something more earthy, more pungent is desirable.

I harbour similar reservations about their performance of Poulenc’s Sextet, the absolute masterwork on this disc. Nowhere is the critic Claude Rostand’s description of Poulenc as ‘half monk, half rascal’ more apt. The bassoon’s soliloquy that stops the first movement in its tracks has a quasi-religious quality, while the ‘rascal’ is evident in whooping horn and flutter-tongued flute. In the outer movements, the RCO winds sometimes err on the side of caution where caution should be thrown to the wind. Les Vents Français offer a riotous performance on their recent three-disc Warner Classics set.

Martinů’s Sextet tweaks the usual wind quintet-plus-piano formation, dropping the horn and employing a second bassoon. He varies his textures and moods throughout the work, a jazzy ‘Blues’ movement a highlight. This performance is very enjoyable, the helter-skelter Scherzo allowing flautist Emily Beynon to shine, accompanied solely by pianist Jeroen Bal. Double-bassoon chortles inject a lot of fun into the finale. Sándor Veress’s Sonatina is less interesting, merely helping pad the disc out to an hour.