Músiques Per Emportar-Se a Illes Desertes

Clavellina d'Aire is the Catalan word for a bromeliad or air plant. These grow not in the earth but high in trees. They are strikingly bright. Frogs breed in the water that collects in their leaves. It's a perfect name for the duo of Cati Plana (diatonic accordion) and Jordimaria Macaya (violin and viola). They play vivid, light and quirky music. Both are professors at distinguished conservatoires in Barcelona and the Folk School of the Pyrenees.

This, says the title, is music to take to a desert island, but it sounds as if they have just discovered it somewhere in the Pyrenees, are giving it a go and making up something of their own a bit like it. Several pieces are very short – like ‘Mamarxa d’Adautoritats’ – only a little over a minute. They are played in a somewhat cavalier manner. In ‘Bartolillo’ there's a pause and a great intake of breath. That's the accordion. Elsewhere it's the musicians you hear inhaling or sniffing. There are classical inflections, ‘Bartolillo’ being one of a few almost canons. The Pyrenees span the border and there is more than a hint of bal musette café music, for instance in the chirpy song ‘Petite Tonkinoise’ (shorter than two minutes), then the melancholic exploration of deep, deep chords in ‘Baixant el Montgròs’ (longer than six minutes). And the ‘Vals i Requiem Per a un Peix’ is a deeply moving memorial to a dead fish, and a waltz. Bizarre – and brilliant.