Mozart would have loved this record. He loathed his contemporary Peter von Winter and would be amused to discover that his shortcomings as a composer were being noised abroad. If the three-movement symphonies are fairly dim affairs, relieved here and there by flashes of orchestral imagination, the aria, for soprano, clarinet and strings, is a joke beyond even Mozart’s power of parody. Winter was not the only German composer of the period to write for the voice as if for a clarinettist on speed but there is something almost sadistic about the sheer pointlessness of the pyrotechnics the soprano has to master here in competition with a preening solo clarinet. (Orfeo omits to give us the text but would it matter if it did?) The Clarinet Concerto is something other. Both the concerto, with its lovely slow movement and spookily Gothic finale, and Dieter Klöcker’s eloquent advocacy will be of great interest to all clarinettists. One day someone is going to record Das Labyrinth, Winter’s sequel to Die Zauberflöte; when that happens there really will be laughter in heaven.