This intriguing collection 
                of songs takes us from Pauline Viardot-Garciá 
                (b.1821) to Nadia Boulanger (b.1887), 
                who lived until as late as 1979. It’s 
                difficult however to pin down the actual 
                compositional dates of these melodies 
                and Lorelt is not exactly helpful on 
                the subject. Nevertheless though none 
                of the names will be completely unfamiliar 
                to readers the music probably will be. 
                We get five songs by each composer – 
                except Viardot-Garciá, of whose 
                songs we get four (ironic inasmuch as 
                hers are much the best settings in purely 
                vocal terms). Holmès was essentially 
                self-taught though she did later study 
                with Franck. Her earlier craving for 
                a romantic canvass gradually narrowed 
                in focus to song, though big descriptive 
                pieces were always flaring in her imagination. 
                Her settings are variously simple (La 
                belle Madeleine) to rather salon in 
                orientation (Chanson lointaine). Of 
                the handful La heine is by far the most 
                exciting, fuelled as it is by a resonant 
                and tough text to which she responds 
                with equal fervour. Harmonically and 
                temperamentally it is a cut above the 
                rest. 
              
 
              
Nadia Boulanger always 
                acknowledged the superiority of her 
                sister Lili as a composer. Some of Nadia’s 
                1910 settings were jointly written with 
                the famous pianist Raoul Pugno. As Odaline 
                de la Martinez writes in her notes his 
                chromaticism and her newer sounding 
                dissonances make for a pleasing inner 
                tension. Vous m’avez dit sounds vaguely 
                Fauréan, though inclined to be 
                heavier, and the 1916 setting (by her 
                alone) of Soir d’hiver has plenty of 
                tendresse and also more declamatory 
                and carillon-like force. Chaminade was 
                a salon favourite who fortunately left 
                behind some recordings as examples of 
                her own pianistic style. Her songs are 
                as one would expect – salon effective 
                (Madrigal), cod Slavonic (Chanson slave) 
                and neat but lacking distinction (Rêve 
                d’un soir). The highpoint of her five 
                is undoubtedly Amoroso, which taps into 
                an altogether more rapt reflectiveness, 
                increasingly ardent and opulently expressive. 
                Viardot-Garciá was a famous singer 
                and sister of Maria Malibran, one of 
                the nineteenth century’s greatest sopranos. 
                Her son was Paul Viardot, dedicatee 
                of Fauré’s First Violin Sonata. 
                She was clearly a taxing word setter 
                because Berceuse cosaque is a mini scena 
                – independence of the pianistic right 
                hand, tolling motifs, coloratura demands 
                and mezzo depths are all here (and it 
                makes the generic wisp of Chaminade’s 
                Chanson slave sound ever more abject). 
                There’s élan and high spirits 
                in Bonjour mon Coeur and cleverly rocking 
                and insistent rhythmic patterns in the 
                accompaniment to Sérénade 
                Florentine. On this basis we could do 
                with more of her songs brought to wider 
                notice; Ott and Keller have recorded 
                some for CPO and Bartoli has recorded 
                a couple for Decca. Here honours are 
                taken by Rebecca de Pont Davies who 
                identifies herself as a mezzo-contralto. 
                Actually I see what she means; she has 
                a strong chest voice and a well-deployed 
                centre though her tone does noticeably 
                thin when she pushes up. Her diction 
                is also not the finest. Still she has 
                quite a lot of character and the Viardot-Garciá 
                settings certainly need that – and get 
                it. Clare Toomer is a good accompanist 
                and the whole is under the musical direction 
                (as they used to say on the 78 labels) 
                of Odaline de la Martinez. Quite what 
                that really means I can’t say but it’s 
                worked out relatively well. Texts and 
                translations are provided. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf 
                 
              
see also review 
                by Christopher Howell