Can a voice be ‘too beautiful’? That was the charge laid against Souzay by Roland Barthes in his book Mythologies (Seuil: 1970). I imagine that the great semiol-ogist had in mind something like Souzay’s performance of Schubert’s Nacht und Traume, accompanied by Jacqueline Bonneau. The smoothness of his tone, and the fluid way he passes from the lower register to a head voice of a delicacy that few male singers ever achieve, make listening to this and several other Lieder on the Schubert disc a particularly sensual experience.

The producers at Decca in the early 1950s obviously considered Souzay to be their answer to EMI’s Fischer-Dieskau, and recorded a series of LPs, the majority of which are represented on these five CDs. Decca has issued some of these in the past; indeed, one recital won a Gramophone Award in the Historic category in 1991. Of the five discs here, it is the all-French programme (SBT1312) that demands first place. It opens with Ravel’s Don Quichotte à Dulcinée, the only time Souzay recorded this with orchestra, and one of the splendours of his discography. Edouard Lindenberg conducts with the exact pace and lightness of approach that the three songs need. Even now I would choose this recording above all others.

The three Debussy songs that follow, two of them orchestrated by Louis Beydts, are also among the supreme examples of Souzay’s singing: the ‘Villon Ballade’ has an intensity that reminds me of Souzay’s best role in opera, Golaud. Like Claire Croiza, one of Souzay’s teachers, he is never afraid to give plenty of voice where it’s needed. The Chausson group is also just right; so many of Chausson’s songs are gloomy, but the balance between the nostalgia of Le Colibri is balanced with the mystery of Cantique a l’épouse and the yearning of Le temps des lilas. When it comes to the Duparc settings, the contrast with his subsequent recordings on Philips and EMI, both with Dalton Baldwin, is more extreme. There are points where the later, grittier interpretations take precedence.

The other mainly French disc (SBT1311) has the second of Souzay’s four recordings of Fauré’s L’horizon chimérique. (The earliest, made for 78s, has been reissued on Pearl.) By the mid-’70s, when he took part in EMI’s complete recording of Fauré’s melodies, Souzay’s voice had darkened, and developed a sometimes intrusive beat, while by then lacking the ability to sustain those extraordinary soft notes which are part of the joy of these early recordings. Ravel’s Histoires naturelles is also a fascinating reading, Souzay equal to all the demands made of the singer’s acting ability, culminating in the cry of ‘La Pintade’. One seldom hears Falla’s Seven Popular Spanish Songs sung by a man, and while I wouldn’t put this at the top of any list, it’s an interesting experiment.

The Schubert is the more valuable of the two CDs of Lieder. Originally this was two recitals, recorded in 1953 and ’54. The first, accompanied by Bonneau, concludes with the heavenly Nacht und Traume. There is not only beauty of tone and line; in Ihr Bild, Souzay touches the depths of the lover’s sadness, while Ganymed has a noble classicism. As Alan Blyth writes in the booklet-note, Souzay ‘preferred the older manner of interpretation’, in that he never sacrificed the shape of the melody for any hectoring or over-dramatic effect. Yet when he reaches the climax of Ganymed, there is urgency and wonder as the child takes flight, born aloft by Zeus in his guise as an eagle.

Although they were recorded at the same venue, West Hampstead Studios in London, the set-up for the 1954 session is noticeably different. The balance between voice and piano is more natural, but Souzay is further away from the microphone, so that some of his detailed expression is less clear. The outstanding song here is Litanei auf das Fest Allerseelen. An die Leier, too, is touching in its valedictory sentiment. In the two recitals Souzay includes five songs from Schwanengesang. On an earlier Decca LP, also with Bonneau, he included Der Doppelgänger (now on Pearl), and later on Philips he added five more songs; so across three discs you can hear Souzay in almost the entire cycle.

The Schumann/Wolf selections are not quite so compelling. This is Souzay’s second attempt at Dichterliebe, but the third, on Philips, is probably the best. In the quiet songs, he is sublime, but ‘Ich grolle nicht’ and ‘Die alten, bösen Lieder’ benefit from his later more open delivery. Although Souzay recorded the complete Italianisches Liederbuch with Baldwin and Elly Ameling later on, Wolf didn’t figure that often in his concert programmes. Again, it is the light touches in ‘Der Gartner’ and ‘Begegnung’ that enchant here.

The mixed recital (SBT1315) is for dedicated admirers only. It includes 18 songs from the anthology Canzone scordate, arranged by Arne Dørumsgaard, which, as AB admits, ‘do have their tedious moments’. This concludes with one of Souzay’s most entrancing performances: ‘C’est un torrent’ from Gluck’s La rencontre imprévue. Souzay has often said he preferred his later recordings, but these five CDs give a portrait of the singer with his voice in the full flow of its youthful beauty, and of that there can never be too much.