This book addresses students, teachers, performers, and scholars who wish to fathom the unique nature of the French vocal genre of the mélodie, doing so in a warmly personal manner that may surprise as well as please. Le chant intime: De l'interprétation de la mélodie française originally was published in 2004, and this slightly expanded English-language version is welcome, given the globally increasing interest in nineteenth-century French aural culture among musicians and audiences today.Footnote ¹ Although there is an expanding array of resources devoted to the mélodie, this one differs in design and substance.Footnote ² Within the Foreword, journalist Romain Raynaldy reveals its origins as interviews with the baritone François Le Roux: ‘I suggested that François not take a musicological approach to French art song, but rather to write the kind of work that would allow his readers to discover and expand their understanding in a lively and accessible language’ (p. ix). Within the Introduction, Le Roux surveys its structure:

The result offers close acquaintance with an elusive genre, provided by an earnest and experienced guide.Footnote ³ Readers of Nineteenth-Century Music Review will perceive Le Chant Intime: The Interpretation of French Mélodie as an eclectic mix of masterclass discourse, private coaching, practical advice, and personal conversation suited to its express purposes and intended readers.

Part I consists of three chapters that establish basic premises and principles for understanding the mélodie. Chapter 1, ‘To Listen’, begins with an intriguing assertion – ‘The French language is already, as a consequence of its unique sonority, intrinsically musical’ (p. 5) – whose profound implications manifest as the book unfolds. Le Roux avers that close, careful, and conscientious attention to the fundamental sonic elements of a mélodie's text, properly pronounced and undistracted by memory of its musical setting, is required for essential understanding. Singers are urged to study the timbres and savour the sounds within authentic spoken articulation, repeatedly reading the poetry aloud without imposing musical nuances in order to internalize the aurality of the words, so that intuitive apprehension of the verse's sonorous nature might guide artistic rendition in future musical performance. While this analytical approach might gain lip service from many instructors, practical considerations often demand pragmatic shortcuts today – like mimicking and memorizing recorded performances – particularly when French is not the singer's first language. However, Le Roux persuasively advocates sustained, systematic study of a mélodie's poetry prior to singing it, arguing that it produces something unique: ‘The French mélodie is … the pleasure of encountering intelligence, the poetic image and the special sonority; it addresses itself globally to our entire being: the head, the heart, the ear, the senses’ (p. 11). Diction discussions depend on liberal use of the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA)Footnote ⁴ within an approach that is characterized by ‘alertness to the infinitesimally tiniest detail’ (p. 6). Le Roux is quick to remind that the point of such close textual and articulative dissection is to foster intimate communication, yet he allows – with just a bit of wit – that ‘the mélodie is, in its essence, an art form that is, alas, a little confidential’ (p. 11).

Chapter 2, titled ‘To Know’, stresses comprehensive historical study of the nineteenth-century French vocal literature and the poetry that inspired it. Le Roux begins with Les nuits d’éte (1840–41) of Hector Berlioz, set to poetry by the composer's contemporary, Théophile Gautier. He continues through the popular chansons and romances so ubiquitous in mid-nineteenth-century Paris, and arrives at the subtly innovative songs of Henri Duparc and Gabriel Fauré, which reflect the aesthetic evolution, prompted by Charles Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du mal (1857), that occurred near the Franco-Prussian War (1870–71). ‘As for me’, Le Roux opines, ‘I think, quite simply, that the French mélodie was born when the composers wanted to set themselves apart from what, in their eyes, the romance symbolized – a fashionable, stereotyped object of musical consumption – in order to become more demanding about musical quality and to come closer to the accomplishment of the German lied’ (p. 14). More specifically, Le Roux asserts: ‘The poetic revolution generated by Baudelaire, and then the advent of the Parnassian movement, were decisive in the appearance of the mélodie’, adding, ‘One might say that the Golden Age of mélodie and its “definitive” establishment as a genre can be dated back to the moment when Parnassian poetry mutated into Symbolist poetry’ (p. 15). For Le Roux, grasping a mélodie's expression – knowing its meaning and its means – proceeds from an understanding of its historico-literary context, plus an apprehension of its artistic aesthetic. Crafting a thoughtful personal interpretation requires historically informed performance practice that honours the intentions of the composer by conscientiously considering artistic, social, and cultural contexts, as well as musical structure and the practicalities of vocality, plus recorded evidence from the preceding century.

Readers will appreciate how Le Roux distinguishes the chanson, romance, and the mélodie in Chapter 2 by specifying the differing audiences associated with each genre, and the performers’ correspondingly contrasting stances (p. 17). They also will welcome his views on the verse that inspired mélodies – recent and ancient, familiar and obscure, superior and subordinate – as well as his thoughts on poetry that has not inspired notable songs, in order to begin developing their own perspectives. But perhaps what may be most instructive and valuable, particularly for early-career singers, is the attitude of advocacy that Le Roux exhibits: ‘The mélodie is a genre that still holds a large number of little-known works of outstanding quality, which are not necessarily unknown pieces by famous composers; certain forgotten or unrecognized musicians wrote mélodies of the highest order’ (p. 25). Le Roux's zeal for the mélodies of Louis Durey – which he describes as ‘so obvious, clear and limpid that they are almost transparent’ (p. 26) – convincingly illustrates that one of the keys to a career is a cause passionately pursued.Footnote ⁵ And as will become apparent in Part II of this book, such lesser-known yet carefully cultivated songs can teach much about the mélodie because their essential elements stand out, unobscured by the prejudices acquired from prior reputation, listening experiences, or technical study.

Chapter 3, ‘To Perform’, focuses on training singers and performing mélodies by discussing a wide range of topics and factors that inform, influence, and impinge upon interpretation. These include voices, transposition, tessituras,Footnote ⁶ gender, sexuality, programming, pianists, score study, style, dynamics, tempo, and attitude – particularly the need to remain curious about and humble before the genre's legacy. Vocal professors and their protégés may benefit most from the facts and opinions assembled there, though all readers should find something to appreciate among the chapter's wide-ranging commentary.

One point addressed in Chapter 3 might have been more clearly expressed, or perhaps more carefully explained. Earlier, in Chapter 2, Le Roux had asserted: ‘in the French mélodie, performers remain the performer … the transmitter, the one who opens the door to public’, adding that they ‘are certainly not the incarnation of the poet or the composer … and cannot act as if there were a character to play’ (p. 18). Here in Chapter 3 Le Roux elaborates that last thought with this statement: ‘As I stated earlier, the stance of the performer of French mélodie is the negation of that of an opera singer, who must incarnate a character’ (p. 31).

But is that quite right? Nearly all would agree that the sorts of facial and physical expression appropriate to Schubert's Die schöne Müllerin and Winterreise would be inappropriate for Fauré's La Bonne chanson or La chanson d'Eve. However, it is hard to imagine persuasive performances of the latter that do not express distinctly different personae, projecting them via varying vocal timbres, textures, and techniques while portraying their gradual and dramatic evolution over the course of the unfolding song cycles.Footnote ⁷ Perhaps more scholarly scrutiny of the Symbolist aesthetic, as well as increased investigation regarding the recitation of poetry and the performance of mélodies in private and public settings during the half century from 1870 to 1920 may offer greater clarity and confidence regarding this complex matter.

Part II of Le Chant Intime: The Interpretation of French Mélodie, which represents the bulk of the book, offers insights on 60 selected songs by 30 composers. Music by Claude Debussy, Gabriel Fauré, and Maurice Ravel figures prominently, as does that of Henri Duparc, Francis Poulenc, and Albert Roussel. Yet worthy works by Lili Boulanger, Cécile Chaminade, Augusta Holmès, Marie Jaëll, Germaine Tailleferre, and Pauline Viardot also are analysed.Footnote ⁸ And while most of what's discussed come from the latter half of the ‘long nineteenth century’, a mélodie commissioned of Philippe Hersant in 1995 to a poem of Paul Éluard, and another composed by Thierry Lancino in 2000 to a poem by Paul Verlaine (both written for Le Roux) demonstrate how the genre has subsisted through the twentieth century and has persisted into the twenty-first. Readers will find familiar and unfamiliar titles here, reflective of the enormous diversity of the repertoire as well as the expansive knowledge of the artist.

Two-to-eight-page commentaries contextualize each song through a ‘Presentation’ section, and then illuminate it through an ‘Analysis’ section.Footnote ⁹ Within a mélodie's Presentation section, one usually finds selected historical facts, relevant sociocultural observations, pertinent publication data, penetrating insights on its poem and poet, vital connections to other works, plus specific details regarding tessitura and technical demands. Most Analysis sections begin with the mélodie's text and a translation, continue with poetic interpretation, structural observations, performative advice, and pronunciation tips, before summing-up with a brief reflection. 110 compact musical examples, carefully attributed and accompanied by cogent prose, make succinct points whose principles are readily applicable elsewhere.Footnote ¹⁰

For instance, Le Roux's profile of Maurice Ravel's ‘Les grands vents venus d'outre-mer’ (1907), which sets a Symbolist poem of Henri de Régnier from 1892, provides a collegial introduction to a song that Le Roux declares ‘has great expressive strength’, as well as an ‘enigmatic character’, but which ‘is rarely heard, no doubt because it was published separately’ (p. 221).Footnote ¹¹ Suitable for advanced students and professionals, the challenging mélodie's essential qualities, which range from the Oriental, to the surreal, to the dark and even the macabre – inapparent during a glance at the score – are traced to a poem characterized as ‘rather intriguing, a bit like the style of Edgar Allen Poe’ (p. 221). Le Roux addresses a variety of topics, including the relation between poetic structure and musical design, abrupt tempo changes, rhythmic features, motivic elements, collaborator complementation, breathing, vocal timbre, dynamics, and articulation, sharing thoughts – rather than prescriptions – regarding interpretive questions that lack easy answers (pp. 222–3). For an uncannily prescient mélodie that alludes to social and cultural effects of globalization, Le Roux extends acquaintance, insights, and encouragement that will be appreciated by aspiring artists.

Offering contrast in the same chapter is an enlightening account of Ravel's Sainte that readily might be shared with a novice (pp. 224–6). Set to a first-phase Symbolist poem by Stéphane Mallarmé that was originally titled ‘Sainte Cécile jouant sur l'aile d'un chérubin’ (1865), Sainte dates from 1896, the year when Ravel joined Gabriel Fauré's composition class at the Conservatoire, yet it was not published by Durand until 1907. Le Roux provides an evocative image of what's needed by specifying that Sainte ‘requires the voice of a monk, or of a child chorister, almost devoid of color’ (p. 224).Footnote ¹² The composition's multitemporal nature emerges here through a prose paraphrase, quoted in both French and English (p. 225), which clarifies that the ‘saint’ is a carved figure within a wooden bookstand on an altar in an ancient church, accompanied by three similarly carved Renaissance-era musical instruments, who appears to be brushing the wing of an angel as if it were a harp, and which once served to support a long-used illuminated missal open to the Magnificat during the service of Vespers and Compline Footnote ¹³ Reminding readers that Ravel ‘as always, notates what he wants very precisely’, Le Roux directs his readers’ attention to aspects of dynamics, slurring, and breathing, plus the composer's intentions regarding the treatment of certain instances of ‘e’ and ‘s’. Memorable advice – ‘The [s] of the last “silence” should be delayed as long as possible, until the very end of the breath, as if the voice were disappearing like an echo into the arches of the church’ (p. 266) – furnishes recitalists with a practical hint for dramatically concluding a poetic vignette that simultaneously evokes several points in the past.

As the preceding suggests, there is much to applaud within Le Chant Intime: The Interpretation of French Mélodie. Le Roux's encyclopaedic knowledge of mélodies, shared through Sylvia Kahan's translation, will encourage developing singers to explore the genre, master appropriate pronunciation of the poetic texts, and become more confident interpreters. His advocacy of lesser-known literature and composers, as well as his blend of erudition, excitement, and technique, are sure to be emulated by emerging artists. Indeed, scholars are apt to find hints here to stimulate new research.

Yet certain aspects of formatting and content attract attention. For instance, copyright notices appear for no apparent reason at the starts of all 33 chapters, plus the Introduction, as well as that normally found in the front matter.Footnote ¹⁴ Misalignments within texts and translations make close study awkward at times.Footnote ¹⁵ Finally, some terminological imprecisions remain without acknowledgement.Footnote ¹⁶ Nevertheless, this volume offers such a cordial entrée to its subject for those curious about mélodies that these quibbles are, in the main, relatively minor.

Perhaps the signal achievement of Le Chant Intime is its engaging illumination of a rich repertoire some still regard as inscrutable or exclusive. Yet as the genre continues to be studied more closely, it appears to represent a more important factor behind the evolution of nineteenth-century musical culture than many had thought. Indeed, close contextual study of the literature suggests the mélodie served as a conduit and disseminator for the Symbolist aesthetic, which, in turn, prompted the emergence of Modernism in late-nineteenth-century France. Conceptual reconciliation might start here.