This is a feast 
                  for those addicted to the liquid legato of the clarinet. Or, 
                  as they used to say in the days of moustachioed heroes of the 
                  instrument, clarionet or clarinette. The hero here is Cristo 
                  Barrios and his accomplished partner is Clinton Cormany. Together 
                  they put forward a largely delightful collection. It ranges, 
                  seemingly ambling, from Vaughan Williams to Caccini to Duparc, 
                  thence to Schumann and then back to Ravel, before we suddenly 
                  encounter Cole Porter, Strauss and end with Obradors. The programme 
                  ranges from the nineteenth to the early-ish twentieth centuries 
                  though with the Caccini – programmed between VW and Sibelius 
                  (eh?) – as a sop to Aria antiche. In fact programming 
                  is quixotic to say the least and I rather got the impression 
                  that this recital could have followed in any order whatsoever. 
                  Still, that’s the prerogative of the performers I suppose – 
                  or Divine Art.
                
The disc’s sub-title 
                  is A recital of art-song in transcription. These arrangements 
                  are faithful to the original songs but we should in all candour 
                  fight to resist the temptation to judge the transcriptions too 
                  closely. It’s the nature of the transcriptive beast that the 
                  clarinet will tend to smooth out the more peppery moments in 
                  these songs. Thus that Caccini becomes just slightly too withdrawn 
                  and mellow. And the de Falla invariably loses something of its 
                  tang and taste – there’s not quite enough bite. Which is not 
                  to complain of the performances, which are very sensitive indeed, 
                  more to make the obvious point that the clarinet is sometimes 
                  an imperfect medium for this kind of thing.
                
The Ravel, perhaps 
                  surprisingly, comes off quite well but the Debussy, however 
                  attractively played, lacks a certain intimacy. The Barrios-Cormany 
                  duo relishes the teasing opening flourish of the Porter; then 
                  Cormany turns on the vamp and ragtime and Barrios broadens his 
                  tone. They find the romantic chanson of Poulenc’s Les chemins 
                  de l'amour very much to their liking and deal sensitively 
                  with Fauré’s Les berceaux, which in transcription is 
                  often simply played too loudly. Not here. The Obradors ends 
                  the recital with a ruffle of Franco-Spanishry.
                
Given that the programme 
                  is predicated on song it’s sensible of Divine Art to give us 
                  the texts – the originals and English translations where necessary.
                
Jonathan Woolf