Adalbert Gyrowetz, born precisely between Mozart and Beethoven, was among those who witnessed the upheaval of changing times in especially drastic fashion. When he died in 1850, Schumann was 40, Liszt 39—and Chopin, who had debuted in Warsaw in 1818 with a piano concerto by the Bohemian, had already been dead for six months. Gyrowetz’s instrumental music had once been widely celebrated: published in large numbers, frequently performed, and eventually forgotten. The composer turned to the stage, wrote sacred music, and created a late period for himself in which he may have looked back with melancholy on earlier works, pieces sometimes thought to rival Haydn at his best. This sampling from the “good old days”, compiled by tireless rediscoverer Howard Griffiths, shows how such impressions came about. The orchestra is no coincidence: Gyrowetz once enjoyed high esteem even on the Thames. Now he is back.