This is a heartfelt tribute to the pianist’s late poet grandfather, whose fondness for the French belle époque repertoire is reflected here. Emmanuel Despax goes further by including in the accompanying booklet the texts of poems that are either directly associated or empathetic with the music he has chosen. Thus we are able to read in French and English the sources of inspiration for Gaspard de la nuit, for instance, and Danse macabre, as well as works by his great grand uncle (also a poet), his grandfather, Baudelaire, Verlaine and several others.

The musical results are, frankly, a mixed bag. Despax opens with his own really lovely transcription of Après un rêve. Recorded in The Menuhin Hall (Andrew Keener and Mike Hatch at the helm), Despax and his Fazioli produce a luxurious, quasi organo tone that ravishes the ear. He follows that with a stylish account of Poulenc’s woefully under-represented Les soirées de Nazelles, a set of eight short, characteristically quixotic variations on a theme, framed by an opening prelude, a cadence and a finale, composed between 1930 and 1936.

The delicate pp ending of Les soirées (the two final bars excepted) leads beautifully into ‘Clair de lune’, another example of Despax the keyboard poet and colourist. We hear it again in Chaminade’s Nocturne, Op 165, one of her final works (written in 1925), an earworm of a melody which, with its Chopinesque figurations, surely merits greater popularity.

Before that, however, is the Saint-Saëns-Liszt-Horowitz Danse macabre. Its bravura demands do not suit Despax and he is no match for Niu Niu, Valery Kuleshov or Horowitz himself (a whole scintillating two minutes faster). Nor, sadly, does Gaspard de la nuit compete with the likes of Michelangeli (1959), Argerich or Pogorelich, to name but a few. Though Despax captures well the crystalline textures of ‘Ondine’, he is far too deliberate in approach and, though ‘Le gibet’ is menacing enough, the diablerie and capriciousness of ‘Scarbo’ elude him. The programme ends as it began with music of quiet repose in the form of Duparc’s Aux étoiles.