The devotion of Naxos to Kraus, the short-lived contemporary of 
                Mozart, has borne some fine fruit of late. The bulk of this latest 
                disc is given over to the fifty minutes that comprise the ballet 
                music of Fiskarena (The Fishermen) of 1789. It’s an independent 
                ballet choreographed by Antoine Bournonville and one that proved 
                exceptionally popular on its first appearance at the Royal Theatre 
                in Stockholm and that retained that prestige for decades afterwards.  
                Note writer Bertil van Boer, who has written on, and edited, the 
                composer’s music (he wrote the first movement cadenza in the recently 
                released Naxos recording of the Violin Concerto) tells us that 
                this was the first work to be revived on stage in the twentieth 
                century at the Royal Theatre.
                
It certainly shows 
                  a deft and polished hand for dramatic action. Fortunately, whilst 
                  neither the choreography nor the plot have survived, van Boer 
                  can give us a fairly detailed run down of the action. High amongst 
                  the selling points is a cosmopolitan approach to dance music. 
                  There are explicit homages to the Czardas and to English nauticalia 
                  amongst the essentially light-hearted moments of this commedia 
                  dell’arte influenced work.
                
The ballet consists 
                  of an overture and twenty separate numbers. The overture is 
                  deceptively pomposo and well orchestrated whereas the first 
                  number [track five – an Andante] breathes something of the same 
                  air as a Mozartian operatic aria – delightfully sprung all round. 
                  Fortunately we have the Swedish Chamber Orchestra on hand under 
                  Petter Sundkvist and they seem to get to the very heart of things 
                  in their lithe, supple readings. The Angloises [Nos.8 and 10] 
                  are bursting with English influence – hornpipes and rough nautical 
                  sing-songery – imagine a late eighteenth century Henry Wood 
                  and you’re near the mark. But altogether there is plenty of 
                  variety in the score – rhythmic and thematic, national tunes 
                  and vibrancy of invention. There’s nothing too serious going 
                  on, but plenty to amuse, delight and titillate the ear. Lest 
                  I give the impression that it’s all knockabout there’s a stately 
                  Andante con moto [No.16; track 20] as well as that fizzing and 
                  vibrant Ungherese.
                
This ballet is the 
                  feast but there’s an hors d’oeuvre in Naxos’s running order, 
                  and a dessert and also an aperitif to finish. The hors d’oeuvres 
                  is the Pantomime in D, an overture-like affair, confidently 
                  etched in three brief movements. It’s a breezy Mannheim-influenced 
                  concoction written somewhere between 1769 and 1772 notable in 
                  particularly for the expressive solo oboe writing in the slow 
                  movement. The Pantomime in G is the dessert  - slight but enjoyable 
                  – and the aperitif is Kraus’s ballet music for Gluck’s Armide. 
                  The first comes from Act I Scene III and is stately Fieramente 
                  and the second from Act IV Scene 1 – a correspondingly vital 
                  and energetic Allegro moderato. Together they last three and 
                  a half minutes.
                
This then is a robust 
                  and entertaining selection – captivatingly well presented by 
                  these forces, extremely well annotated and highly enjoyable.
                
Jonathan Woolf