Henri SAUGUET (1901 – 1989) Cirque (1927) [5.44]
Darius MILHAUD (1892 – 1974) Trois Poèmes de Jean Cocteau
(1920) [2.55]
Eric SATIE (1866 – 1925) Rag-Time Parade [2.20]
Francis POULENC (1899 – 1963) Cocardes (1920) [6.44]
Darius MILHAUD (1892 – 1974) Le Tango des Fratellini (1920)
[1.47]
Georges AURIC (1899 – 1983) Huit Poèmes de Jean Cocteau (1920)
[19.23]
Darius MILHAUD (1892 – 1974) Caramel Mou [3.58]; Six
Chansons de Théâtre (1954) [7.42]
Henri SAUGUET (1901 – 1989) Le Voyante (1932) [18.44];
Le Chemin des Forains (1954) [5.34]
Celini Ricci (soprano)
Daniel Lockert (piano)
rec. Skywalker Sound, Marin County California, USA 19, 20, 22 August 2009,
23-25 August 2010.
DORIAN SONO LUMINUS DSL 92125 [74.53] 
Celine Ricci is a young Italian soprano of mixed Italian and French parentage.
Studying in Paris and at the Guildhall in London she went on to participate
in William Christie’s Les Jardin des Voix.
On the present disc she moves away from early music to the Paris of the 1920s.
This imaginative recital puts together song-cycles by composers influenced
by Satie and Cocteau, the subjects revolving around the circus and the dynamic
street-life of Paris. Three of the cycles have text to poems by Cocteau himself
and the remainder circulate the same orbit. The recital is prevented from
being the usual ‘a propos des Six’ by the fact that the songs include lesser
known ones by Milhaud plus material by Henri Sauget, a composer not in les
Six but still influenced by Cocteau - his inaugural Parisian concert at the
Sorbonne was organised with the assistance of Satie and Cocteau.
The opening cycle, Cirque, is a sequence of settings by Henri
Sauget of poems by Adrien Copperie. Copperie was a boyhood friend of Sauget
- both were born in Bordeaux; in these five songs we get brief descriptions
of circus performers, set by Sauget in a melodic, epigrammatic manner. The
writing owes something to Satie and though Sauget’s voice is akin to that
of Poulenc and Milhaud, his writing lacks the sharpness and edge often to
be found in their music of this period.
Milhaud’s own Trois Poèmes de Jean Cocteau from this
period are three tiny miniatures, each describing incidents in the city in
allusive style. Milhaud responds with songs whose melodic interest is often
in the piano. Here we have to address issues of Ricci’s performance and the
way that the recording has caught her voice.
Most of the songs are word-based, and Ricci’s performance is admirably focussed
on the text with very clear declamation. Unfortunately her voice in the upper
regions seems to spread when under pressure and this is caught alarmingly
by the recording. You feel she ought to have been given more air around the
voice. Also, she has a habit of approaching notes from below, which can be
irritating.
In the final Milhaud song in Trois Poèmes de Jean Cocteau
another problem becomes apparent: Ricci seems to be unable or unwilling
to sustain the long lines which the song needs and the vocal contour is unnecessarily
choppy. Next comes a lovely performance of Satie’s Rag-Time Parade from
pianist Daniel Locker, sadly the only Satie on the disc.
Poulenc’s Cocardes are a further three songs to allusive
Cocteau poems, again finding inspiration in the streets of Paris. The first
opens, quite daringly, in epigrammatic manner with the voice unsupported by
the piano. Just as the words found inspiration in the street, so Poulenc uses
fragments of popular style melody in the songs. This manner occurs in the
cycles by Milhaud and Auric, but it is Poulenc who is the master. He displays
a quickness, a quicksilver ability to change emotion on a pin and Ricci does
not quite manage to reflect this. Her performances are worthy, perhaps creditable
but not prime Poulenc. Another charming piano solo follows, Le Tango
des Fratellini which bears a remarkable resemblance to Le
Boeuf sur le Toit.
George Auric’s Huit poèmes de Jean Cocteau is the final group
on the disc to use Cocteau’s words. It opens aptly with a homage to Eric Satie
and follows with seven longer, complex poems, though Paris is never far away.
Cocteau brings in modern inventions such as the bi-plane. Auric tends to set
Cocteau’s words in a rather declamatory, conversational fashion with significant
lyrical and melodic interest in the piano. It is almost as if Auric, Poulenc
and Milhaud had decided to set Cocteau’s poems in a similar manner. In fact
there are links. In 1920 Cocteau organised a ‘spectacle concert’ at Le Comédie
Des Champs Elysées with music written by Auric, Poulenc and Milhaud. Poulenc’s
Cocardes was performed at this event as was Milhaud’s Le
Boeuf sur le Toit which seems to have been renamed for its
piano version, Le Tango des Fratellini - the Fratellini
were circus performers whom Cocteau had engaged to perform in the show. Cocteau
seems to have been in the air and the friends responded to him in remarkably
similar ways.
There are lyric moments in Huit poèmes de Jean Cocteau, but
Ricci does not make enough of them. Rather unfairly, perhaps, I kept coming
back to the performances of Felicity Lott in the music of Les Six and wishing
that Ricci had something of Lott’s ability to mine the miniature lyric beauty
of these songs, and respond to their quickness.
Another piano solo Caramel Mou, again by Milhaud; this
was written for another avant-garde show, this time put on by Pascal
Bertin. A negro performer, Graton, danced a shimmy tp Milhaud's piece, which
originally had words by Cocteau.
This is followed by his Six Chansons de Théâtre. These
date from 1954 but in spirit they almost belong to the 1920s. The songs all
come from plays. George Pitoeff’s Tue ne m’échapperas jamais, Jules
Supervielle’s La Première Famille and Henri-René Lenormand’s La
Folle du Ciel. Again the songs are tiny and popular music, especially
the Waltz, is not far away; Milhaud tends to use it in tantalising hints and
fragments.
Henri Sauget’s La Voyante dates from the 1930s and sets
texts attributed to Nostradamus all dealing with card-reading, astrology and
palmistry. Sauget opens the second song, Astrologie with
what seems to be a quotation from ‘Twinkle, Twinkle little star’! The final
song, Chiromancie (Palmistry) is by far the longest and
most dramatic. Sauget’s style is more lyric-melodic than that of Poulenc,
Milhaud and Auric but you certainly get the impression that he was aping their
manner, albeit in a way which was less sharp, less edgy. Again, I kept finding
that though Ricci was responsive to the words, she failed to give the melodies
a sufficient sense of line.
The final song on the disc is one that the long-lived Sauget wrote in 1954.
It will be familiar to many listeners as Sauget wrote it for Edith Piaf and
I’m afraid that Ricci’s performance does not really eclipse that of Piaf.
In all the songs Ricci is admirably partnered by Lockert who contributes the
charming piano solos.
The CD booklet is admirably informative, with texts in English and French,
brief biographies of the composers and the poets, an interview with the performers
and an article on French mélodie, plus photographs of Celine Ricci in performance.
This is, in many ways, an admirable programme, intelligently put together
and including some lesser-known works rather than treading the familiar route
around the music of Les Six. But Ricci’s performance is simply unsatisfactory.
Though the recording has caught her voice badly, her own performances are
just too mannered and lacking in the elegant perfection which these songs
demand. One of my tests of whether to recommend a record is whether the CD
is one that I would gladly play again; I’m afraid that this one failed, despite
the attractive programme.
Robert Hugill
Admirable programme, intelligently put together and including some lesser-known
works but Ricci’s performance is simply unsatisfactory.