The raison d’être of this coupling is that all three composers were born in Geneva and participated (in Ernest Bloch’s case vicariously) in what is still spoken of as the city’s musical ‘golden age’ between the two World Wars. The three works don’t have much else in common‚ but they make up a satisfyingly varied programme of little­known but distinguished piano quintets. Frank Martin’s piece is relatively early‚ not yet touched by the influences of serialism‚ Stravinsky or jazz‚ yet audibly by Martin in its deep emotion‚ its fertile invention and Bach­derived contrapuntal skill. The first movement has an almost tragic intensity‚ the second (a latter­day minuet) a rather shadowed charm; the third is like a Bach aria‚ the fourth a good­humoured‚ jubilantly dancing presto that eventually reveals a folk song as its source. It is beautifully crafted‚ likeable music‚ interesting in the way that the piano and the strings often take up different stances. It is the strings that cast the second movement’s shadows‚ and the deeply expressive centre of the slow movement is for them alone. By contrast the piano often dominates flamboyantly throughout Marc Briquet’s Quintet. Unknown to most music dictionaries‚ he lived from 1896 to 1979 but went suddenly and totally blind at the age of 60. His is a conservative voice‚ at times reminiscent of Franck (he was a pupil of d’Indy and Widor and played the organ professionally) but his darkly eloquent slow movement‚ at least‚ based on two fine long themes‚ is memorable and individual. The long first movement has rather too many showy keyboard runs and mechanical modulations‚ but the turbulent‚ fiercely rhythmic finale is striking. This is the only work by Briquet in the current catalogue‚ and it should prompt investigation of the others. Ernest Bloch‚ finally‚ contributes a short three­movement piece full of nervous energy‚ urgent expression and spare‚ sinewy melody. The booklet­note (rather awkwardly translated‚ by the way) suggests that its mood may have something to do with Bloch’s realisation that he might not have long to live; indeed he died before the work’s première. Its slow epilogue‚ gradually turning from poignancy to serenity‚ is very moving and almost insists that you play the whole work again‚ which in a performance as sensitive as this is a pleasure; all three works receive eloquent advocacy and the recordings‚ originating from Radio Suisse Romande‚ are excellent.