Saint-Saëns: Oboe Sonata in D major Op. 166

“...performances that encapsulate the Gallic charm and finesse of the music. At the same time, the Oboe Sonata's mix of the pastoral and the perky is nicely established, as is the blend of warmth and bravura in the Clarinet Sonata...The unifying feature of this programme is the excellently judged piano playing of Stéphane Lemelin, who adds a discerning range of colour and spirit to the performances” Gramophone Magazine, March 2011

“A very enjoyable release...one graced by virtuoso, characterful and committed playing from the members of Canada's National Arts Centre Wind Quintet, and with some notable teamwork when required. The recording in its clarity and immediacy serves the music and performers admirably.” International Record Review, March 2011

“Delightfully played collection of oboe sonatas by composers working in Paris. Ostenrijk possesses a beautiful purity of tone, with grit and passion when needed.” BBC Music Magazine, September 2008 *****

“Dag Jensen's playing of the Bassoon Sonata is the best thing on the disc, exhibiting a lightness and humour somewhat lacking elsewhere.” BBC Music Magazine, August 2007 ****

“Saint-Seëns in full vigour and mastery - a wonderful pair of discs” BBC Music Magazine, 1st July 2008

“Saint-Saëns's chamber music fares better in the concert hall than the recording studio, perhaps because musicians tend to listen less to academic name-calling ('conservative', 'too prolific') than to the music itself. The three late wind sonatas in particular have received far fewer recordings than their status as repertoire staples deserves.
Try the kinky-Baroque first movement of the Oboe Sonata, jauntily phrased by Gareth Hulse, or the animato second of the Clarinet Sonata, garbed in rich Mozartian cloth by Richard Hosford.
The Bassoon Sonata is notable for its fresh and gentle wit and skirting of cliché: Ursula Leveaux does it proud, with especially luscious tone in the opening Allegretto.
Surprises are fewer in the earlier works, but none is less than,'finely put together' to echo Ravel's assessment. Hummability quotient is high in the Piano Quartet and Quintet, and off the scale in the Septet. The late Lionel Salter used to complain in Gramophone that recordings of the Septet tend to sound like a trumpet concerto; not this one. If you employ hit artists like Maurice André they will tend to hog the microphone but, happily, Mark David is a more sensitive soul who's fully imbibed the Nash's joyous spirit of corporate music-making, and Hyperion's engineers have placed him at a respectable distance. If anything it's Ian Brown's piano that takes centre-stage, and that's no bad thing, except in the extensive fugal finales to the Piano Quartet and Quintet where Saint-Saëns, most unusually, seems to over-run himself. The Caprice and Tarantelle, for all Philippa Davies's sparkling contributions, perhaps bear fewer repetitions, but the set is really sheer delight: let's hear it for imaginative conservatism.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010