What a curious first impression Marie-Nicole Lemieux’s Berlioz/Wagner/Mahler recital makes in the wake of her fine Schumann disc (Naïve, 4/10) and compelling concert performances of Das Lied von der Erde of late. In this disc, the voice sounds less disciplined and unduly concerned with maintaining her trademark lush tone – especially in contrast to the more text-based mastery of Anne Sofie von Otter’s Les nuits d’été. Pianist Daniel Blumenthal seems surprisingly superficial compared to his Schumann. The microphones maintain an all-too-safe distance from the musicians, creating a pleasant ambience that lacks impact. Have these important artists taken a step backwards?

No. Upon scrutinising the booklet, one discovers that this recording dates from 2000. What a relief. Only then can one enjoy the experience of hearing a promising pair of artists finding their way into the deep waters of Wagner and Mahler, and appreciate how far they’ve come since then. Lemieux’s conspicuous pitch misadventures that are heard in several vocal leaps here have, to judge from recent discs, been minimised.

The unguarded emotionalism that has made this not-so-cool Canadian endearing is in evidence in almost every song here, with a particularly penetrating response to ‘Schmerzen’ in the Wesendonck songs. However, such interpretative responses come in primary colours, tempered by a steady stream of vocal tone and appearing in less clear relief than in the cleaner vocalism one now hears from her. The final line of ‘Träume’, though, clearly points to what she has become: the words describe dreams being put to rest in a grave – a tricky combination of ethereal and concrete imagery. Her reading gives death a gentle but inescapable finality, sung in a way that’s not overcooked but telegraphs the implied significance of giving up one’s illusions. That deft avoidance of Gothic morbidity also serves her well in Mahler’s ‘Um Mitternacht’.

In Berlioz, her French isn’t especially articulate (again, tone takes precedence) but she does find an appropriate sense of mystery in several songs. Here and there, Blumenthal explores rubato possibilities, compensating with nuance for the lack of the larger sound that one is used to hearing in the more-often-performed orchestral versions. So this isn’t a disc to be had for the repertoire (besides von Otter in Berlioz, Julia Varady is a good choice for the Wagner and Christa Ludwig is great with the Mahler), though admirers of Lemieux will understand and appreciate this artist more having heard this recital. It’s at least worth a download.