The pleasures here are many. John Lenehan is a very accomplished performer: not only is his technical address impeccable, but he also possesses a strikingly wide dynamic range and sophisticated variety of tone colour, both of which he uses to marvellously poetic (and never remotely self-conscious) effect throughout. That Lenehan has a considerable affinity for Ireland’s muse is immediately evident from his raptly intimate delivery of the gentle opening diptych, In Those Days. Similarly, in the extraordinarily imaginative, harmonically questing Ballade of 1929 Lenehan rises superbly to the elemental fury of the remarkable central portion, with its brooding echoes of the ‘Northern’ Bax from the same period. Elsewhere, Columbine is a treat, as is the ravishing Month’s Mind (which the contents on the back of the box misleadingly list as one of the London Pieces). The haunting Prelude in E flat, too, is most affectingly realized.
I have just a couple of tiny reservations. In both “Ragamuffin” and “Soho Forenoons” (the second and third of the London Pieces) Lenehan could have brought out a touch more of the characteristic wistfulness that lies just beneath the surface. Now and then, I also found myself craving slightly more in the way of narrative flair: the colourful programme behind, say, “Le Catioroc” (the first movement from Sarnia) is more magically evoked by the composer’s pupil and prime exponent, Eric Parkin. Indeed, Parkin’s authoritative recordings will always, I suspect, remain the connoisseur’s choice for this lovely repertoire (such a shame that there’s no sign as yet of his glorious Lyrita survey – 6/78 – appearing on CD). Yet Lenehan’s supremely affectionate and wonderfully articulate advocacy will surely win John Ireland many new friends and this finely engineered Naxos release (Vol. 1 in a projected series) clearly represents exceptional value for money.'