Whether celebrating his 150th birthday this past July or anticipating the centennial of his death next November, Marcel Proust has been the inspiration for three recent releases. Violinist Théotime Langlois de Swarte and pianist Tanguy de Williencourt led the pack with ‘Proust, le concert retrouvé’, Gramophone’s Recording of the Month last May (Harmonia Mundi). ‘Music from Proust’s Salons’ appeared around the same time from cellist Steven Isserlis and pianist Connie Shih (BIS, 4/21). The latest is ‘The Proust Album’ from Warner, with pianist Shani Diluka, soprano Natalie Dessay, violinist Pierre Fouchenneret, Guillaume Gallienne of the Comédie-Française and the Orchestre de Chambre de Paris under Hervé Niquet. Diluka, born in Monaco of Sri Lankan parents, studied at the Paris Conservatoire with several teachers including Pludermacher, Guy and Angelich. For this programme she has assembled pieces mentioned in Proust’s writings or by composers known to have interested him.

At the centre stands Reynaldo Hahn’s unjustly neglected Piano Concerto, composed for his compatriot, Magda Tagliaferro. Diluka gives a convincing if occasionally bland performance with an exquisitely prepared Paris Chamber Orchestra under Niquet’s subtle baton. It is a reading that could have been more compelling still, had Diluka characterised the rhetoric of the concerto, particularly that of the opening movement, more vividly.

Venteuil is the composer character created by Proust in Un amour de Swann. Many musicians have tried to discern what the model for Venteuil’s fictional Violin Sonata might be, with works by Saint-Saëns, Franck, Brahms and Pierné variously proposed as candidates. Diluka’s solution is to piece together a three-movement work with one movement each by Hahn, Ysaÿe and Chaminade. All are played ravishingly by Pierre Fouchenneret with Diluka’s sensitive accompaniments.

Two of the Hahn solo piano pieces, ‘Hivernale’ and ‘Les rêveries’, are treated as the backgrounds to Guillaume Gallienne’s readings of Proust’s texts, in the style of melodramas. Given the sensitivity and atmosphere Diluka brings to Debussy’s Rêverie, the slack uncertainty of L’isle joyeuse is a disappointment. The two gentle Fauré songs with Natalie Dessay are perhaps a bit fragile to hold their own in so diverse a programme.

As thoughtful and probing as the concept for this release is, experiencing the musical affects it juxtaposes at one sitting may not be for everyone. Others will be fascinated by its evocation of the musical sensibilities of one of the 20th century’s greatest novelists.