Graham Johnson once again demonstrates his skill in programme-building in this latest anthology of his, an ingenious collection of songs about the animal kingdom (and mankind's reactions to it) that takes account of such factors as key-sequence and contrast of pace and mood. Where his sympathies in the subject-matter lie is perhaps best summed up in the final words of Die Forelle, ''ich mit regem Blute sah die Betrogne an'' (''with boiling blood I gazed at the victimized creature''): he starts with Loewe's branding of MAN (the poet's capitals) as the enemy; and that bizarre and repugnantballad Die Lowenbraut even comes perilously close to an apologia for bestiality. Sometimes animals merely furnish an excuse for poetic meditations (as in Der Einsame or La souris) or for wistful amorous nostalgia (La coccinelle); and, as one might expect, the French here are markedly less sentimental about the natural kingdom than the Germans.
Except for three items contributed by his Songmaker's Almanac colleagues (outstanding among which is Ann Murray's hushed and sinister Muttertraum), the entire record centres on Richard Jackson, a lightish baritone of conspicuous intelligence, with alert responses throughout to every nuance of the verbal texts (most of which he himself has translated for the sleeve). He can go from a tender legato in Marienwurmchen to a darker hue for Scott's Lay of the imprisoned hunter (Lied des gefangenen Jagers) and to swaggering confidence in Der Rattenfanger, and then change his style radically and idiomatically for the French repertoire, making particularly effective use of mivoix. The whole recital is given distinction by Graham Johnson's contributions at the piano, vividly capturing every mood, from the liquid grace of ''Le cygne'' to the boisterousness of ''La pintade'' (both from Histoires naturelles) or the jauntiness of Chabrier's little ducks: his introductions and postludes (as for instance in Muttertraum or Der Rattenfanger) are joys in themselves. Not the least pleasure in this altogether delightful record is Johnson's accompanying essay, whose erudition and wit almost persuade me to forgive him for likening critics to wild beasts.'