If you come to this disc only with the knowledge of his Minuet and Trio (which for many readers I’m sure will be eternally associated with that side-stichingly funny scene from The Ladykillers), this varied and somewhat strange disc of Boccherini will come as a surprise. Les Ombres present three flute quintets and two guitar quintets – who knew there were such things! – that have more than a flavour of Spain. Though there is much musical repetitiveness, we are treated to some delightful timbres. Within Boccherini’s expert synthesis of national styles, there is also much of the rococo charm that characterises music from the second half of the 18th century. Yet Les Ombres could do more to push boundaries: this is music that desires extremes. The first movement of the E minor Guitar Quintet No 7, for example, is entirely pleasant. Taken a nudge faster, however, the musical argument would be transformed, and the contrast between ominous tension and the explosions of major would surely come alive.

The performances are nevertheless quite lovely. Romaric Martin on guitar is a gently excellent backbone to the two guitar quintets here. He sits potentially too humbly in the texture of the Fandango Quintet in D major, and the lion’s share of the limelight goes to the virtuoso cello-playing of Hanna Salzenstein. Gorgeous sonorities in the Grave assai lead us into the Fandango after which the Quintet is named. Out come the castanets and Basque percussion, yet Les Ombres avoid caricature or cheapness. Whereas throughout the disc there is a sense of melancholy for Spain, a nostalgic memory of its warmth, here we find ourselves very much in Spain, among the bodies writhing in dance. It all feels very authentic; fun stuff indeed.