Duparc orchestrated eight of his songs, but it is not often that they are collected together on one disc. The songs are far more opulent in their orchestral guise and Francoise Pollet, with her large and luminous voice, is well suited to them. In the recital hall a lack of finesse can detract from her singing of melodies, but the same broadness of style is less of a problem with orchestra. Singer and conductor have chosen slow tempos, underlining the languorous midday heat of Phidyle and the lassitude of La vie anterieure, while Chanson triste becomes sluggishly sentimental. Jerome Kaltenbach allows his orchestra a loose rein—John Eliot Gardiner proved a far more disciplined accompanist for Barbara Hendricks (EMI, 4/89—nla)—but a reasonable amount of detail gets through, despite the rather cavernous acoustic. Pollet is forwardly placed and is able to keep the words clear. On balance, the warm generosity of her singing, sensuous or ecstatic as the music demands, compensates for a lazy feel to the performances as a whole.
There is an added attraction in having the three orchestral scores on disc. Back in the LP era there were at least two recordings of the tone-poem Lenore, but the other two short pieces are rare visitors to the recording studio. Although it displays some energy on the surface, Lenore is an undistinguished work, relying on weak echoes of ideas that Liszt and Wagner handled so much better (Duparc had recently attended the premiere of Die Walkure). The Danse lente is much more attractive, aspiring to a Massenet-like subtlety of seduction, while the short and peaceful Aux etoiles also has its merits. There is no other disc available that brings together all of Duparc's works for orchestra, so this one has the field to itself.'