This is a gripping if curiously conceived album, divided unequally between an entertaining clutch of sinfonias, concertos and trio sonatas from the High Baroque, and four new works by young Icelandic composers all commissioned by Barokkbandi Brák. Only the Violin Concerto in G by Johan Joachim Agrell (1701-67) is designated as a first recording.

There are no doubts about Barokkbandi Brák’s virtuosity or musicality: the lively opening Allegro of Vivaldi’s Sinfonia for his 1724 opera Il Giustino bounds along with flawless intonation and ensemble. In Agrell’s vibrant Sinfonia in A and Sammartini’s energetic Concerto grosso musical flow is always beautifully maintained, moving consistently at pace without seeming hurried. Barokkbandi Brák’s partnership with Elfa Rún Kristinsdóttir in the Agrell Concerto is immaculate, with a real sense of joy – but then Kristinsdóttir is not only one of theirs but was one of the founders of the group in 2015. The same applies to the crisp performance of Vivaldi’s triple concerto for two violins and cello, featuring the group’s co-founder Laufey Jensdóttir and cellist Steinunn Arnbjörg Stefánsdóttir.

The group’s chamber credentials are highlighted in the trio sonatas by Corelli and Stradella, and – in a very different vein – Þráinn Hjálmarsson’s string quartet Recitar cantando/Speaking in Song (2021), a study in ethereal textures, inspired by Giulio Caccini’s comment ‘music is nothing other than speech, then rhythm, and lastly sound’. Born in the same year (1987) as Hjálmarsson, Bergrún Snæbjörnsdóttir composed her septet Quorum Sensing (also 2021) to evoke the biological mechanism that can ‘regulate gene expression’ and ‘co-ordinate group behaviour’. Starting in not dissimilar expressive territory to Recitar cantando, it develops, slowly, in a more focused manner. Finnur Karlsson (b1988) describes Fold (2015; for harpsichord and string octet) as ‘a kind of contemplation about different aspects of Baroque music’. Kristinn Kristinsson’s diptych BRK also explicitly references the Baroque at its opening, though the music immediately circles away from (and back to, several times) the idiom in the first span’s sedate progress. Sono Luminus’s sound is crystal-clear throughout.