A protégé of Markevitch and Boulez, Geneva-born Michel Tabachnik steers a sleek and dynamic course through La mer, drawing playing that is immensely spirited and (for the most part) laudably polished. I’d have preferred greater suppleness in “Jeux de vagues” – and I miss, too, the last ounce of grip that exponents such as Coppola, Désormière, Ansermet, Reiner, Karajan and Haitink have brought to this masterpiece: in “Dialogue du vent et de la mer” the final appearance of the lofty noonday invocation (initially heard on the horns towards the end of the first movement) falls short in clinching majesty. On the whole, though, this remains a La mer to reckon with.

Elsewhere, Tabachnik presides over a watchful, unmannered Prélude à L’après-midi d’un faune. His reading of Nocturnes likewise has much to commend it: he brings ample poise, mystery and tenderness to “Nuages”, while “Fêtes” combines joyous bustle and infectious rhythmic snap (the pizzicatos at fig 8 or 2'06" positively leap off the page). “Sirènes” isn’t quite as successful. Granted, Tabachnik extracts every ounce of expressive fibre from the music (those imploring strings from fig 6 or 5'05" really do tug at the heart-strings), but his choir lacks allure and there isn’t quite the hypnotic concentration and focus achieved by, say, Boulez in Cleveland (DG, 3/95).

Tuttis tend to cloud within the slightly hollow studio acoustic, which also imparts a glassiness to the violin tone (especially above the stave). Plenty to admire none the less, and an orchestral partnership worth monitoring, I’d say.