Ernest Chausson is a composer whose true worth is often overlooked. 
                Even his most famous work - the violin and orchestra 
Poème 
                - is more likely to turn up on disc rather than in the concert 
                hall. His catalogue is small but every one in it is a gem. To 
                my ear he is the French composer who most successfully reconciles 
                the conflicting influences of Wagner, the academic rigour of the 
                Schola Cantorum and early impressionism. His big and luxuriant 
                opera 
Le Roi Arthus is a fine example of this finely achieved 
                balance but on a smaller scale the 
Poème de l’amour 
                et de la mer Op.19 is his most sensuous and skilfully crafted 
                work. Again it is more often heard on disc than the concert hall; 
                over the years it has received recordings from many of the greatest 
                sopranos and mezzo-sopranos. Therein lies one of the little question-marks 
                about the work - the type of voice best suited. Whether to go 
                for the full-blooded drama of a Jessye Norman, or the rich intelligent 
                warmth of a Janet Baker. But curiouser and curiouser; Chausson 
                in his score - as ever I’ve turned to the wonderful IMSLP 
                site for access to scores I do not own hard copies of - marks 
                the solo part for a baritone. This would seem to be logical as 
                the poems by Maurice Bouchor are written from a male standpoint. 
                Yet there seems have only ever been a single recording by a male 
                singer and a tenor at that! This was a recent performance from 
                the Australian tenor Steven Davislim - very well received here 
                just last December. I have heard it and found the orchestra and 
                recording superb and the use of the male voice utterly convincing 
                but for my taste Davislim’s timbre is too unidiomatically 
                not French and his actual pronunciation lacked conviction. 
                  
                The dreaded ‘USP’ of this performance is that is utilises 
                a new transcription of the work for a chamber ensemble of voice, 
                piano and string quartet. The argument for this is that it neatly 
                makes a companion piece in this format for the stunning 
Chanson 
                Perpétuelle. Given the sumptuousness of the original 
                there is a secondary argument that it allows for a smaller more 
                lyrical voice in turn revealing more subtleties than the original 
                orchestration always permits. A smaller voice is certainly what 
                soprano Salomé Haller has. One last little textual query 
                here; although a soprano Haller chooses the lower pitches for 
                the songs - as in the printed vocal score - as opposed to the 
                higher pitches in the full score. Given that the difference is 
                only a tone it does not make for a huge audible change. Pianist 
                Nicolas Kruger in the liner-note makes a case for this transcription 
                he and Haller commissioned from Franck Villard in that it expands 
                the repertoire for this under-used combination of voice and instruments. 
                That is certainly true to a degree although British composers 
                seem to have responded to this format more with Vaughan Williams’ 
                
On Wenlock Edge being the most famous example. The performance 
                starts well with the virtues of the disc as a whole immediately 
                apparent. The Quatuor Manfred have a clean and lean sound and 
                all the parts are well recorded and balanced in the Parisian Church 
                acoustic. Villard has rightly made a virtue out of the reduced 
                scale so lines and textures are beautifully clear. In turn this 
                does suit and match the light-tones Ms Haller. But, and it really 
                is a big but, this is a piece that takes hedonistic delight in 
                the sensuous richness of the orchestral palette for which it was 
                conceived. The very end of the first song finds the players, for 
                all their undoubted skill, simply under-powered. The passages 
                where the textures are light and thin are ravishing - the opening 
                is an excellent example as is the instrumental 
Interlude 
                which benefits from the chilly grey tone the players impart
. 
                Credit too to the first violin who makes light of some fairly 
                fiendish passage work which ripples beautifully on a flute or 
                harp but is just darn right hard on the violin. Special mention 
                too for the piano playing of Nicolas Kruger which is a perfect 
                blend of subtle touch and sensitive accompanying. In its own right 
                this is an elegant and pleasing performance even though I don’t 
                personally find Ms Haller’s voice as purely beautiful as 
                I would prefer in this work. However, in no way does this supplant 
                the original work so it would be hard if not wrong to direct collectors 
                to this edition before the orchestral version. 
                  
                Likewise with the coupling of the unfinished 
String Quartet 
                this would not be a choice above all others. My introduction to 
                this work was on an EMI import coupling this work with Chausson’s 
                other famous chamber work the 
Concerto for Violin, Piano, and 
                String Quartet played by Augustin Dumay, Jean-Philippe Collard 
                and the Muir Quartet. From memory I think this won awards at the 
                time of its release in the late 1980s. Good though the Quatuor 
                Manfred are here the Muir are better with a richer, more skilfully 
                blended more subtly voiced version. Next to them the Manfred’s 
                - fine players though they are, this is a matter of degree - sound 
                a little wan. Don’t forget this is not wholly ‘authentic’ 
                Chausson either. Still the only famous composer to die as a result 
                of a bicycle accident this work was left incomplete - the 4
th 
                movement existing in sketches only. The near-complete three movements 
                were edited and organised for performance by his old friend and 
                colleague Vincent D’Indy. Who, it has to be said, did a 
                very fine job because except for some formal imbalance that the 
                missing finale would have solved, you have little or no sense 
                of where Chausson ends and D’Indy begins. The very opening 
                of the quartet shows the difference in approach between the Muirs 
                and the Manfreds; the Muirs richer, more sensuous, more questing. 
                In contrast the Manfreds - by choice I’m sure - are more 
                questioning, less certain, lighter toned and with fractionally 
                less perfect ensemble too. Perhaps because I ‘learnt’ 
                the work through the former I find myself resistant to the latter. 
                In either case, this is a fine quartet and well worth discovering 
                if it has escaped your attention so far. The version here is a 
                worthy one yet lacking the last ounce of sheer attack. 
                  
                The 
Chanson Perpétuelle is a miniature masterpiece 
                and receives the best performance on the disc. Hearing the perfection 
                of the scoring here does underline the fundamental error of the 
                earlier transcription. Chausson scores this work to perfection 
                and it receives a performance of gentle subtlety. Haller sounds 
                much more comfortable here not so obviously fighting the climaxes 
                although her tone still hardens less than agreeably at high climaxes 
                [track 7 6:20]. Again, Kruger’s piano playing is an understated 
                delight and the quartet find just the right lyrical warmth. Even 
                on disc this has hardly received the attention its quality deserves 
                in the main I’m sure to do with the problem of programming 
                it onto a disc of similar works. The logic in the coupling here 
                is that Chausson worked on the 
Quartet and the 
Chanson 
                Perpétuelle concurrently. Indeed the song is his last 
                completed work before he died at just 44 years old. It is hard 
                not to wonder what path his music would have taken if he had lived 
                through to the 1920s. 
                  
                This is a tricky disc to summarise in one pithy sentence: well 
                recorded and produced, well thought out and in the main well performed 
                but ultimately not the disc to buy if your collection has room 
                for only one version of any of the works here presented with the 
                possible exception of the 
Chanson Perpétuelle. 
                  
                
Nick Barnard