During the course of 
                the eighteenth century concertos for 
                the bassoon were written more frequently 
                – without ever becoming an entirely 
                common occurrence, even if Vivaldi wrote 
                almost forty concertos for the instrument! 
                There are later concertos by, amongst 
                others, J.C. Bach, Stamitz, Johann Christoph 
                Vogel, Hummel and, of course, Mozart. 
                Danzi, just four years older than Mozart, 
                was later to count Weber amongst his 
                friends, and there is a sense in which, 
                musically speaking, he belongs between 
                the two of them. Certainly in listening 
                to the two concertos here one is likely 
                to think of Weber’s Bassoon Concerto 
                in F (Opus 75) at least as much as of 
                Mozart. Himself a cellist by training 
                - his Italian father played cello in 
                the orchestra at Mannheim – Danzi wrote 
                in most musical genres, though his music 
                for woodwinds is perhaps most familiar. 
                He seems to write with particular sympathy 
                and understanding for the bassoon – 
                he composed bassoon quartets as well 
                as concertos for the instrument, and 
                in his Wind Quintets he gives the bassoon 
                more prominence than many composers 
                are prone to do. Both of the concertos 
                here employ the conventional three movement 
                structure of fast-slow-fast; the first 
                – though I can’t claim to be familiar 
                with the numbering of Danzi’s works 
                I seem to remember encountering this 
                concerto numbered otherwise – closes 
                with variations on an Austrian song 
                of which Weber also made use in his 
                Variations for Viola and Orchestra. 
                The second concerto ends with a demanding 
                Polacca - played with assurance by John 
                Heard. 
              
              Born in Bohemia of 
                a family in serfdom, Vanhal had to buy 
                his freedom – which he did with money 
                earned from composing – and later established 
                himself very successfully in Vienna 
                as composer and teacher. He wrote at 
                least one concerto for single bassoon 
                and one – played here – for two bassoons. 
                Orchestras of the classical period increasingly 
                employed two bassoons, so it was not 
                unnatural that composers should occasionally 
                write a concerto for both instrumentalists. 
                Vanhal’s is one such, in the playing 
                of which John Heard is joined by Taras 
                Osadchiy, principal bassoon of the National 
                Symphony of Kiev. Vanhal writes some 
                attractive imitative passages for the 
                two soloists, not least in the central 
                andante grazioso where the voices of 
                the two bassoons interweave elegantly 
                amidst musical comments from the strings. 
                Unfortunately, I have to report that 
                my review copy had a pressing fault 
                on this track; on some players it produced 
                a loud click, on others a complete standstill. 
                A great shame and not, I trust a fault 
                to be found on all copies of the CD. 
                In other respects the recording is fine, 
                with a natural balance and pleasing 
                clarity.
              
              Without being in any 
                way spectacular, and without drawing 
                inappropriate attention to itself, the 
                playing of John Heard (and of Osadchiy) 
                is fine, technically highly competent 
                and with a good sense of style. Camerata 
                Kiev are obviously a an expert chamber 
                orchestra, well marshalled by Alexander 
                Ostrowski. It is, though, a shame that 
                the programme should be made up of three 
                concertos all in the same key.
              
              In an eighteenth-century 
                book of travels which I have recently 
                been reading - Ideas, suggested on 
                the spot in a late excursion through 
                Flanders, Germany, France and Italy 
                (1790) - Adam Walker reports on the 
                experience of attending a concert in 
                the Louvre. Having praised some clarinet 
                music, he writes "A duet was performed 
                between this charming instrument and 
                a grunting bassoon – or rather two solos, 
                to show off the performance on each 
                instrument. The clarinet was wonderfully 
                played, and the piece admirably adapted 
                for it. But the bassoon part, though 
                well performed, was something like an 
                elephant trying to dance a hornpipe 
                – certainly that unwieldy toned, dull 
                hedge-stake, was never designed to display 
                rapidity of execution?" Such were 
                – and to a lesser extent perhaps still 
                are – the prejudices with which the 
                bassoon had to contend at the time that 
                these concertos were written. I would 
                like to think that if Mr. Walker had 
                heard the performances on this CD he 
                would have been persuaded that the bassoon 
                is rather more than a "dull hedge-stake" 
                and that "rapidity of execution" 
                on the instrument can serve thoroughly 
                musical ends.
              
              Glyn Pursglove