CPO bills this as part of its "Dieter Klöcker Edition"; is 
                  Klöcker, the Consortium Classicum's guiding light and principal 
                  clarinetist, really so prominent an artist as to merit a Recorded 
                  Edition? The present recording, an analogue reissue from 1974, 
                  is an EMI Electrola production - the disc neatly incorporates 
                  the EMI Classics logo into the standard CPO label design - but 
                  I don't recall any LP appearance Stateside, either on Angel 
                  or on any of its licensees. 
                In this Sextet performance, dark hues dominate the overall sound more 
                  than usual - I became very aware that the piece calls for an 
                  ensemble of low instruments. Beethoven exploits the clarinet's 
                  long range and concomitant registral changes to inject some 
                  brightness into the dark-hued ensemble, especially in the first 
                  movement, where that instrument carries most of the melodic 
                  material. Paradoxically, the sonority here is also unusually 
                  transparent: once past the close-positioned opening chords, 
                  which suffer the sort of buzzy congestion that suggests pre-digital 
                  overload, the textures are consistently easy to "hear through." 
                  The inner movements, in which the bassoon and horn assume more 
                  prominent roles, remain dark. Only in the Rondo finale 
                  does the music climb into a higher tessitura; in this bubbling, 
                  high-spirited rendition, the players tackle the technical challenges 
                  and brief display opportunities with obvious relish.
                After the Septet's brief slow introduction, timbral warmth tempers 
                  the first movement's basically energetic, propulsive manner, 
                  with the clarinet and horn full and resonant in their solo spots. 
                  The Adagio cantabile is grave and dignified; there's 
                  a hint of a rustic edge in both the tone and the phrasing of 
                  the Tempo di menuetto. In the fourth movement, the players 
                  underline the ominous undertones of the minor-key variation, 
                  the better to set off the genial surrounding material. I have 
                  heard more athletic, infectious performances of the Scherzo, 
                  but the Consortium find a nice lilt in it, shifting into a more 
                  easygoing, gemütlich gear for the Trio section. There's 
                  enough of a suggestion of hurtling forward to keep the finale 
                  going, even in the brief, more formal episode at 3:38 with its 
                  overlapping parts; earlier on, the string playing has sounded 
                  a bit bashful and restrained, but the violin suddenly and correctly 
                  turns brilliant in the rising repeated notes at the finish. 
                Good work, then, and good music-making all around; fans of Klöcker 
                  or the Consortium will be pleased. But there are preferable 
                  individual versions around, including the Gaudier Ensemble's 
                  take on the Sextet (Helios) and the St. Martin's Academy Chamber 
                  Ensemble in the Septet (Chandos). 
                Stephen Francis Vasta