Sabine Devieilhe first came to my notice via her Baroque performances, notably her Rameau discs. But there are many strings to this French lyric soprano’s bow: her terrific ‘Mirages’ album (12/17) was a runner-up in the Recital category in Gramophone’s 2018 Awards and her Marie in Laurent Pelly’s La fille du régiment at Covent Garden demonstrated a notable comedienne. I also caught a Wigmore Hall lunchtime recital last year dedicated to music from the salons of Pauline Viardot.

For her latest disc, Devieilhe has devised a recital programme around those oft-paired – but very different – composers, Debussy and Ravel, along with the father of French mélodies, Gabriel Fauré, juxtaposed with five songs by the insouciant Francis Poulenc. It makes for an entertaining hour, far more varied in mood than the disc title ‘Chanson d’amour’ (after Fauré’s song) may suggest. While there are nocturnal reveries such as ‘Après un rêve’, there are lighter numbers too, such as Poulenc’s ‘Hôtel’, from his cycle Banalités, where the poet’s desire is to smoke cigarettes rather than get down to work.

It is a joy to hear these 29 mélodies sung so well, with superb French diction, especially in the patter of Poulenc’s ‘Fêtes galantes’, which Devieilhe rattles off with aplomb, and the almost-spoken ‘Sur l’herbe’ by Ravel. There is upbeat fun in Debussy’s ‘Chevaux de bois’ and a swagger down the boulevards in Poulenc’s ‘Voyage à Paris’. Devieilhe exhibits great charm in Ravel’s Cinq Mélodies populaires grecques, bending folk-like notes in ‘Quel galant m’est comparable’, while the closing ‘Tout gai!’ is delicious, sounding as if she’s really enjoying herself, much more so than any other recording I’ve heard. There’s never any sense of Devieilhe pushing her light soprano; this offers a feeling of great intimacy.

The Fauré songs come off beautifully, Alexandre Tharaud providing the quivering piano breezes in ‘Notre amour’, while Debussy’s early ‘Nuit d’étoiles’ (1880) is exquisitely sung. Both performers capture the shadowy, perfumed atmosphere of most of the Ariettes oubliées, and Poulenc’s ‘Les chemins de l’amour’ ends the recital on a bittersweet note, with a deftly floated final A flat from Devieilhe. With excellent booklet notes by Roger Nichols, this is a highly recommendable disc and I’d welcome more mélodies – particularly Fauré – from these accomplished French performers.