Notwithstanding bright, modern sound, there’s a nostalgic aspect to the Toronto Symphony Orchestra’s new recording programme under Music Director Gustavo Gimeno, a harking back to past triumphs. Following the band’s second recording of Messiaen’s Turangalîla-Symphonie (4/24) – the first under Seiji Ozawa was groundbreaking in its day – this latest release references two key relationships of the past. Stravinsky, a guest conductor of his own music in Toronto from as early as 1937, directed the suite from Pulcinella there in May 1967; it proved to be his last public conducting engagement. Glenn Gould, the local superstar who made his first appearance with the orchestra aged 13, is the subject of Kelly-Marie Murphy’s work, commissioned in 2017 to celebrate the 70th anniversary of Gould’s TSO debut and what would have been his 85th birthday.

Her Curiosity, Genius, and the Search for Petula Clark is slotted between the more familiar Stravinsky scores and I was unsure quite what to make of it. The title draws upon one of Gould’s eccentric radio documentaries in which Petula Clark’s ‘Who am I?’, a radio staple during the pianist’s car journey to Northern Ontario, sparks an ornate exegesis of her recent hits, only partly tongue-in-cheek. That Tony Hatch-penned number, no big seller in the UK, has some recognisable Sixties tropes, not least a ‘hook’ allocated to the harpsichord even before the singer takes off with her eager rising scale. The latter may or may not be deliberately evoked in elements of the present score such as the plaintive ascending oboe line just before the end. Although the invention generates plenty of momentum in the manner of Joan Tower or Christopher Rouse, I’m not sure what makes it Gouldian other than an inability to relax. Rautavaara’s arctic terns are present but neither Bach nor Hatch can claim much of a look in. Expect plenty of colourful percussion.

The Stravinsky pieces go very well without necessarily displacing established favourites. Robert Craft’s recordings of Pulcinella and Le baiser de la fée (‘The Fairy’s Kiss’ – Koch, 3/00) have been paired by Naxos but there are classier options in the complete ballets. Claudio Abbado’s Pulcinella, a highlight of his LSO years, is only now beginning to sound its age (DG, 6/79). Not so Oliver Knussen’s wonderfully subtle Cleveland-made account of Le baiser de la fée (DG, 11/97), recently rivalled by Vladimir Jurowski’s with the London Philharmonic (LPO). Gimeno prefers the extended suite or Divertimento just as Fritz Reiner once did. And in its Prologue at least, the Toronto players sound more involved than Reiner’s chillier Chicagoans.

Pulcinella finds Gimeno often marginally slower than Abbado, not necessarily a bad thing, but the performance, agile as it is, feels less strongly characterised. Nor do his distinguished vocalists quite match Abbado’s vintage line-up of Teresa Berganza, Ryland Davies and John Shirley-Quirk. Or is it just that one is used to them? In Toronto Paul Appleby’s vibrato is not always flattered by close miking. Then again, the mostly live recording (two concerts, applause excised, plus a patching session) does successfully counter the dryness of the Roy Thomson Hall. Generously illustrated bilingual supporting material includes texts and translations.