There are few more thrilling noises than that of a brass/wind band in full cry. Last year I had the pleasure of hearing two memorable examples of the breed: a high-res download of John Pickard’s virtuosic 
Eden and 
Gaia Symphony (
review) and a high-tingle-factor Blu-ray Audio disc from 2L entitled 
La voie triomphale. The prowess of those two ensembles – the Eikanger-Bjørsvik Musikklag and The Staff Band of the Norwegian Armed Forces respectively – is beyond question; indeed, they take the genre way beyond its somewhat anorakish following and give it the serious status it so richly deserves.
  
          This enterprising album – a follow-up to 
Brass (RCO Live 
          RCO 07002) – showcases the Concertgebouw’s peerless brass 
          and percussion sections, not to mention their formidable strings in 
          Hindemith’s 
Konzertmusik. It’s a well-chosen programme, 
          beginning with an arrangement of four numbers from Shostakovich’s 
          
Gadfly Suite by Steven Verhaert; the latter is also a trumpet 
          teacher and player with the Royal Flemish Philharmonic. In the liner-notes 
          Verhaert says the selection is designed to offer maximum contrast and 
          variety.
  
          Does it succeed? Emphatically, yes. The sheer weight and superior blend 
          of these Dutch players is a wonder to behold. However, all that technique 
          doesn’t count for much unless it’s firmly focused on musical 
          values; happily this artful arrangement ensures those elements are always 
          paramount. 
The Barrel Organ Waltz is a case in point; lightly 
          scored and delectably played it’s a nimble number that highlights 
          the knife-edge articulation of these players. As for the Keystone-Kops-like 
          
Galop it rollicks with the best of them; the yearning 
Romance 
          is nicely done and the timps and bass drum add martial splendour to 
          the 
Finale.
  
          Just as impressive as the playing is the full-blooded and very well 
          balanced recording. The temptation with ensembles and repertoire such 
          as this must be to go for a crude ‘hi-fi spectacular’; that’s 
          certainly not the case here, for all the pleasure and excitement comes 
          from hearing these instruments in their pure, unforced state. The result 
          is uncannily close to the delicious 
frisson and bodily impact 
          one feels on hearing these instruments live, and that’s a remarkable 
          achievement. Next up is 
Concertgeblaas, Detlev Glanert’s 
          punny little interlude for 12 brass instruments and percussion. Premiered 
          by this group in 2012, the work’s blend of asperity, rhythmic 
          verve and big-band pizzazz is a delight from start to finish.
  
          I first encountered the Corsican composer Henri Tomasi’s 
Fanfares 
          liturgiques, culled from his radio-play-turned-opera 
Don Juan 
          de Mañara, on 
La voie triomphale. The music, which depicts 
          a religious festival in Seville, begins with the heraldic 
Annonciation, 
          which soon modulates into something rather more sombre. The musical 
          fabric is plainly dyed, the weave simple, but the bright threads of 
          
Evangile add colour to this solemn processional. Here and in 
          the quirky 
Apocalypse the agility of these players is astonishing, 
          and the dark-hued 
Procession du Vendredi-Saint exudes 
          a pleasing pliancy throughout. The quieter passages are eloquently voiced, 
          and the potentially brazen climax is tastefully done.
  
          Good taste and good judgment are the watchwords here, even when the 
          music invites the players to excess. That’s certainly true of 
          the composer/arranger/trombone player Steven Verhelst’s take on 
          Astor Piazzolla’s 
tango operita, 
María de Buenos 
          Aires. This suite was suggested by the RCO’s principal trombonist 
          Jörgen van Rijen, who plays a key role in the piece. Interestingly two 
          trumpets, with and without sneering mutes, mimic the 
bandoneón, 
          a concertina-like instrument used in tango ensembles. However, it’s 
          the rich, in-your-boots sound of the trombone that really draws the 
          ear. Not only that, the slink and slide of this seductive music is nicely 
          sistained.
  
          This is one of those rare collections that you 
can listen to 
          in one sitting, such is the level of variety and interest on show. Moreover, 
          there’s a real sense of fun here, and that’s readily communicated 
          to the receptive listener. These players – the bedrock of one 
          of the world’s great Mahler orchestras – wear their virtuosity 
          so lightly, and that’s an added bonus. The album ends with a live 
          account of Hindemith’s Op. 50 
Konzertmusik, conducted 
          by Kurt Masur. This is a big-boned performance whose bold brass chords 
          invariably bring to mind the composer’s 
Mathis der Maler 
          symphony. As before the sound is exemplary.
  
  This is a thoroughly entertaining release that’s prompted me to seek out the first one in the series. Brass playing does not come much better than this, and the Polyhymnia team have done the music proud. Also, I’m pleased to see the brass and percussion players credited so prominently in the well-designed, easy-on-the-eye liner-notes.
  
  What a blast; not to be missed.
  
  
Dan Morgan
           twitter.com/mahlerei