Last year was a big one for the Canadian mezzo Julie Boulianne. Coinciding with her debut at the Met in New York, she signed a deal to record with ATMA Classique, the label trumpeting the present disc as her first solo effort. Regular readers of Gramophone could be forgiven for raising an eyebrow at that, recalling some well-received Ravel from Nashville (Naxos, 6/09). As the late Patrick O’Connor observed of her title-role in L’enfant et les sortilèges, her timbre is not exactly childlike, but few such accomplished exponents of Rossini are able to summon up the plaintive contralto-ish sonority to create the right atmosphere for Mahler. That Boulianne can project the pervasive feeling of sadness without excessive weight is partly a factor of the ‘domestic’ arrangements employed. The reduction of Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen is credited to Schoenberg, whose part in the exercise may or may not have gone beyond hurriedly marking a score. While Reinbert de Leeuw’s pocket Kindertotenlieder dates from 1991, it too is conceived in the spirit of Schoenberg’s Society for Private Musical Performances, where radical scores were explored for sympathetic listeners, critics not welcome. The expert accompanists are well caught albeit with the singer rather closely observed out front. My one real gripe is with the inadequate gap left before the bonus items, five songs by Alma in their original voice-and-piano format. How good are they? The booklet-note explains how in a bid to save his marriage Gustav sponsored their publication after earlier nipping his wife’s compositional aspirations in the bud. Her refined literary taste is more apparent than a truly individual voice but, having received a bad press in recent years, she may deserve reassessment. Whatever your take on that, one of today’s most promising singers is notably well served. Full texts and translations are provided, not always the case these days.