Lélio, Berlioz’s dramatic sequel to the Symphonie fantastique, is never going to command wide popularity, but it is well worth hearing for the charming music he included in it, and of course for the whole wonderful Romantic gesture of the symphony’s artist returning to consciousness after his drugged dream and flourishing his thoughts and fancies. The Choeur d’ombres goes well here, at the fairly brisk pace Berlioz asks for a Largo misterioso, but nicely shaded. The delicate orchestration of the aeolian harp comes across, though I cannot vouch for whether or not the clarinet is obeying Berlioz and muting his instrument in a bag of cloth or leather. But as Lélio himself addresses his orchestra (in the English translation), “you have even reproduced several extremely subtle nuances”. If the Brigands are a little on the civilised side for these Romantic outsiders who so captivated Berlioz, the Chant de bonheur breathes peace; and the whole long Tempest fantasy, with its soft calls “Miranda!”, comes off even if Caliban might have been more Romantically horrid. It is right and proper to have two tenors, as Berlioz wanted, representing both Lélio and his ghostly “other”. Jean-Philippe Lafont makes what he can of the spoken narrative, though it is impossible to dismiss from the mind the Boulez recording (Sony, 3/95 – nla), with the unforgettable cadences of Jean-Louis Barrault (who once memorably played Berlioz on film). Both Boulez and Colin Davis (Philips) have a brighter colour and a sharper edge to their performances.

Included on the record are a lively performance of the Carnaval romain overture, and a real Berlioz rarity, Hélène, in Berlioz’s own orchestration of the original song, with horns challenging and answering. It is a trifle, but an engaging one.