Casadesus is quoted here as saying ‘I look to Fauré, Roussel and Saint-Saëns as my models, for their form is absolutely classical’. Of these composers, Roussel is by far the most in evidence in these three symphonies, but unfortunately not always the best he can be. The Seventh Symphony, written between 1967 and 1970 and subtitled Israël, was inspired by the events surrounding the Six Day War and so a certain earnestness, at the very least, was to be expected. But the clotted textures and harmonies quickly become wearisome, especially as Casadesus has trouble shaping long paragraphs, which too easily subside into note-spinning.

Casadesus also takes from the ‘machinist’ Roussel of the 1920s a predictable rhythmic impulse: after one four-bar phrase, it’s frequently all too easy to guess the rhythm and even the melodic contour of the next. The Fifth Symphony of 1959-60 sur le nom de Haydn, based on the five-note motto best known from Ravel’s 1909 Minuet (though in a different configuration) conspicuously fails to reflect the Austrian master’s control of pace and texture, let alone his sense of humour.

The First Symphony of 1934-35 is by some way the best of the three, with a last movement that grows quietly but rather impressively by way of a Franckian theme, with a long note in the middle of the bar. The symphony as a whole may, like its companions, be short on memorable ideas, but at least it rises logically to an eventual climax and allows us to hear common triads ‘unimproved’ by the ubiquitous added notes that cloak much of its companions in a grey, Hindemithian fog. I don’t see that Howard Shelley could do more than he does with this predominantly unresponsive material.