‘Where‚’ asks James Harding in the introduction to his Folies de Paris‚ The Rise and Fall of French Operetta (Chappell: 1979) ‘is the long overdue appraisal of Louis Beydts and Moïse Simons?’ Where indeed? Certainly not in that essential book and you will scour the pages of Grove and the Viking Opera Guide – which includes some operetta and musical comedy composers – in vain for any mention of the latter‚ but Patrick O’Connor’s note identifies him as a Cuban composer (1888­1945) of zarzuelas in Barcelona before he took the French capital by storm in the 1930s where the craze for the rumba‚ the samba and the conga made him the most sought­after Latin­American in Paris. Along comes Susan Graham‚ wearing her lovely soprano­ish mezzo very much à la Parisienne‚ opening and closing this scrumptious album of bonbons – mostly from the latter end of the golden age of French operetta – with two numbers from Simons’ Toi c’est moi. She gave the first‚ ‘C’est ça la vie‚ c’est ça l’amour’ (‘That’s life‚ that’s love’) – the disc’s title track – as one of her encores at the Wigmore Hall recently. It’s a flamboyant tribute to Bizet’s Carmen‚ full of Latin­American rhythmic bravado (the origins of Carmen’s famous Havanaise‚ ‘L’amour est un oiseau rebelle’‚ are of course Cuban). Graham sings it with a wicked I­can­be­Carmen­too twinkle in her sly‚ sexy delivery without sounding too knowing. She’s in her element‚ too‚ with the closing ‘Vagabonde’‚ a vivacious waltz­song which surely must have stopped the show in 1934 when it was sung by the popular divette Simone Simon. In between Graham takes us on a delectable Paris­by­night tour of latish French operetta‚ mostly dating from the era when Sacha Guitry and his wife Yvonne Printemps were the romantic leads (Guitry wrote books for two of the leading opérette composers‚ André Messager and Reynaldo Hahn). Of the 17 numbers she selects‚ only two come from works that have remained in the consciousness of today’s music­lovers‚ primarily thanks to records‚ and retain a hold on the repertoire by the skin of their teeth: Jacqueline’s ravishingly wistful ‘Lorsque je n’étais qu’une enfant’ (‘When I was just a child’) comes from Messager’s exquisite‚ bitter­sweet Fortunio (1907) and the irresistible ‘C’est pas Paris‚ c’est sa banlieue’ (‘It’s not Paris‚ it’s the outskirts’) from Hahn’s adorable Ciboulette. Graham may lack the native French of Colette Alliot­Lugaz and Mady Mesplé on the complete recordings of Fortunio (Erato) and Ciboulette (EMI)‚ but her plush­limpid mezzo is easier on the ear. Messager and Hahn provide most of the plums here with songs from the former’s Les p’tites Michu (1897) – his first Parisian success with a Gilbertian plot of mixed­up babies – Les dragons de l’impératrice (1905 – which failed partly because memories of the exiled Empress Eugénie were still vivid and embarrassing)‚ La petite fonctionnaire (1921 – a flop)‚ Passionément (1926 – a hit)‚ Coups de roulis (1928)‚ and L’amour masqué (1923)‚ a Guitry vehicle for Printemps about a woman‚ simply called Elle like the heroine of Poulenc’s La voix humaine‚ who with two elderly lovers sees her life of luxury slipping away when one of them instigates divorce proceedings against his wife for adultery! Graham sings ‘J’ai deux amants’ provocatively and the gorgeous ‘Mon rêve’ quite ravishingly. It’s a treat‚ too‚ to hear a number from Hahn and Guitry’s Mozart (1925)‚ in which Printemps played the role of the adolescent composer: ‘Etre adoré’ – with its plundering of the melody of Don Giovanni’s honeyed words to Elvira in the Act 2 trio‚ ‘Ah taci ingiusto core’‚ from Mozart’s opera – whets the appetite for a complete recording of a staging of the work. Even more entrancing is the title­trio from Hahn’s O mon bel inconnu! (1933)‚ all three parts exquisitely sung by Graham. Enough! This is the musical equivalent of an expensive box of scrummy chocolates and I intend to gorge myself on them for the rest of the year. If my friends behave themselves until December‚ they’ll all find one in their Christmas stockings.