This is the third encounter with Finzi in recent months. Mark Padmore with Roger Vignoles (Hyperion, 5/05) and Roderick Williams with Ian Burnside (Naxos, 6/05) have both won praise and, it’s reasonable to suppose, have enhanced the general receptivity to the very personal voice of this quietly spoken composer whose affections lie so deep within him, their utterance at once heartfelt and restrained. This recital, of three sets of songs, is well in tune with his spirit, the singer freshly living out the poem in his imagination, the pianist sensitive to the thought and development of mood behind, or within, the written notes. Anna Tilbrook has the touch for Finzi (I would like to hear her play the Eclogue): melody and rhythm are clearly articulated but not promoted or insisted upon beyond the modest pleasure of the player (and composer).

James Gilchrist’s singing is at one with this approach. It is good to hear the voice gain resonance and make the comparatively rare forte carry more in the way of release than a more habitually robust manner would do. His clarity and precision are warmed by a rare sweetness of tone, and the ‘lie’ of these songs appears to suit him to perfection. Yet one could do without so much of what I think of as the chorister’s crescendo – that way of growing on each note, good for choral singing but spoiling a soloist’s legato. Compare Martyn Hill in A Young Man’s Exhortation: his voice resembles Gilchrist’s in kind but his phrases are more evenly bound, with no loss of sensitivity to music or words.

That, however, is the only misgiving – except for one other, totally different matter. In recitals like this we really want to see the track numbers; it would greatly help if they were printed clearly, black on white, and included alongside the text.