Seven recorders one gong, one double bass. A singing crocodile, a leaping, squawking monkey jerking around his actor-puppet master. Ratio of notes - zillion to one.

Brendan O’Donnell is virtuoso, scholar, presenter (of rare charm and lucidity), switching from little descant recorder to very big bass, sometimes blowing two at once, adding his own voice to make three part harmony, dynamics ranging from sweet tootling to louder than you would have thought possible.

Half the program old (14th, 17th century), bristling with notes, rests few and far between. The rest new. Picture pieces, jazz plus wah-wah in cahoots with Harley Gray, finally the impossible Breathless by Moritz Eggert.

We were left breathless with admiration. O’Donnell ended up red-faced but still breathing.