MICHAEL PRAETORIUS (1571-1621) liked to write music and to write ...

His family name, Schultheiss, meant roughly "leader," but it was common among German musicians, who dealt in Latin music, to use a Latin equivalent; hence, Praetorius. Traveling around Germany, he became recognized as an expert in all matters musical, especially with the publication of the three-volume Syntagma Musicum during his last decade, in which he discussed musical types and the range of European instruments (with drawings).

All most people know of him today are selections from the 312 secular dances he published as Terpsichore (1612), named for a Greek muse. And though he arranged and catalogued these mostly French dances, he wrote few if any of them himself.

No matter: In his arrangements, they're probably the most lively and immediately seductive music that's come down from the period, especially the bransles (pronounced, I'm told, "brawls"; don't ask me why).

My prized old Archive album of Terpsichore dances could always make me smile (and even attempt dance steps, God help us all). I don't know where it went to and don't have the information on it, but a passing reference makes me think it was put together by Fritz Neumeyer. Much more vibrant than most of the attempts at Renaissance music in the 50s, it was full, lush and delicious. In retrospect, it was also fairly academic?not surprising, since the Archive series was an attempt to demonstrate the range of ancient music.

Lately, I had the good fortune to pick up a new selection of Terpsichore, on Naxos, by a Swedish group, Westra Aros Pijpare. It seems to include just about every Praetorius tune I remember, and it's flat-out delightful. One nice thing about Renaissance music is that it wasn't composed for specific instruments, so any group is free to experiment. The Pijpare (pipers), aided by a Swiss band, haul out just about every stringed instrument of the period (including both "violin" and "fiddle," which puzzles me), along with a variety of wind instruments and percussion (mostly tabor, a hand drum).

I'm particularly entranced by "La, la, la, je ne l'ose dire," by Pierre Certon, first sung by soprano with viola de gamba, then expanded into a simple instrumental bransle and finally a double bransle. This is lovely, mad fun, with the addition of a theorbo (a long-necked, bass lute-osaurus) and the tabor slapping out a raucous step, showing why this dance form developed into today's "brawl"?they'll start smashing the inn's furniture at any moment.

The rest of the CD has an equally grass-roots sound that, even today, is unusual in the Renaissance revival. I can't say enough good things about it.

But if you want to sample Praetorius' choral music, the best may be hard to find. On my Westminster recording of Motets for Double Chorus, Brass, and Organ, side one is Praetorius' "Canticum Trium Puerorum," an immensely powerful, full-blast antiphonal performance with some 500 choristers and musicians. I don't know anything else quite like it. (Side 2, with works by J.C. Bach, Scheidt and Schutz isn't nearly as captivating.) By the way, if you're picking up relatively ancient albums of ancient music, you can't go wrong with anything on Westminster. A small, inexpensive label, it brought out consistently beautiful recordings.

And speaking of double choruses, another fine example is Double Chorus Motets of the Old Masters with the Windsbacher Boys Choir. No Praetorius here, but some Bach and an unusual non-"Canon" Pachelbel, among others. It was on "Mace Records, a Division of Scepter Records." I know nothing about either label.

What's Out There: Versions of Terpsichore are easily had, but I can't trace down any of his double-chorus works.