Ropartz is a composer whose heritage is only 
                gradually being unfolded before us. Recordings have trickled out 
                over the years. But by now a search at fnac.com or amazon.fr will 
                throw up a largish number of discs. Timpani’s chamber music CD 
                is amongst the best - outstandingly imaginative stuff in the same 
                vein as the impressionist-romance of Cras and Foulds; their other 
                orchestral anthology from Ropartz is very low key stuff. The EMI 
                recording of the Third Symphony (now on l’Esprit Francaise series) 
                is also well worth getting. This latest Timpani disc introduces 
                us to the solo vocal-orchestral Ropartz at much the same time 
                as Cyprès are treating us to a generous selection of Joseph 
                Jongen’s songs with orchestra (CYP1635). 
              
La Chasse du Prince Arthur glows 
                in sombre autumnal hues rather than the garish colours of high 
                summer. As an illustration listen, at 9.15, to the hooded tone 
                of the French horns. The work strikes me as indebted to Debussy's 
                La Mer (strikingly so at one point) but predominantly to 
                his maître César Franck. This is the Franck of the 
                desperately underrated Psyché and Le Chasseur 
                Maudit. The present work may not be completely unknown to 
                enthusiasts; it has for years circulated on the tape underground 
                in a 1950s performance conducted by Pedro de Freitas Branco. 
              
 
              
The Debussy connection also sings out from the 
                Four Odelettes. Mlle Pérrin catches ideally 
                the Delian warmth and languor of these songs which teeter on the 
                edge of the solipsistic soliloquising of Pelléas et 
                Mélisande. This rises in Chant si doucement 
                to an ecstatic blaze and Perrin achieves some melting and softly 
                sustained high notes in Je n'ai rien que trois feuille d'or. 
                The cycle is not about dramatic scenas but poetic intensity. If 
                you know and like Bantock's Sappho Songs (on Hyperion) 
                then you need to get this disc. The Four Heine poems are 
                bookended by an orchestral prelude and postlude. Wounded and mournful 
                love is fully reflected in this wonderfully lugubrious cycle whose 
                vocal part is underpinned with bell evocations and references 
                to the Dies Irae. This is very much an inhabitant of the 
                lichen-hung land of Rachmaninov's Isle of the Dead and 
                Joseph Holbrooke's Ulalume. Vincent Le Texier's voice sounds 
                stressed and strained. I can imagine more controlled performances 
                but his feeling for mood is unerring. 
              
Sur Les Chaumes is another late 
                romantic tone poem but more pictorial-atmospheric than La Chasse. 
                Les Chaumes are the upper summit pastures of the high hills of 
                the Vosges. The piece was written, like La Chasse and the 
                Odelettes, in the year before the Grim Reaper began the 
                slaughter in the trenches. Warm viscous blood moves through the 
                veins of this music which might remind you of Delius's Song 
                of the High Hills or of D'Indy's Jour d'Été 
                à la montagne. It has some cheeky jauntiness as well, 
                as for example, in the cloud-hung woodwind quick march at 6.29. 
                The clouds part and sun shines at 7.43 gradually igniting a densely 
                glowing Debussian climax. The music subsides in satiated exhaustion 
                into the hazy susurration of the strings - 'a drowsy numbness 
                pains the senses'. The rocking-breathing motif is not so very 
                far removed from the evocation of the murmuring sea miles in Gösta 
                Nystroem's Sinfonia del Mare. 
              
 
              
La Cloche des Morts is the second 
                of three orchestral pieces on this disc. It is also the earliest 
                piece. Ropartz evokes, in shaded colours, a funereal Breton cortège 
                based, as was La Chasse, on the writings of Auguste Brizeux 
                (1803-1858). The style is caught between Tchaikovsky and Elgar 
                with a sizeable helping of Franck. The atmosphere is not the most 
                dynamic. The emphasis is on the expansive sunset rather than the 
                wave-battered coastline. 
              
 
              
Full sung texts and translations are included 
                in the booklet. The outstandingly detailed and well balanced notes 
                are by the indefatigable Michel Fleury. The booklet includes an 
                interview with conductor Emmanuel Krivine. 
              
 
              
This CD satisfyingly closes loopholes in the 
                Ropartz catalogue and does so in convinced and convincing style. 
                I hanker now for the Fourth and Fifth Symphonies and can only 
                hope that Timpani will not let us down. 
              
Rob Barnett