When Tennyson referred to his friend Edward Lear it was as ''Mr Lear, the painter'', and it was through Robert Tear's interest in the paintings (as he explains in the sleeve-note) that he discovered the existence of these songs. Lear set nine of Tennyson's poems to music, and this recording at least satisfies a natural curiosity to find out what they are like. Well, they appear to be like a good many more songs of their period, unremarkable either in melody or harmony, rhythm or expressiveness. I say 'appear to be' because, over a longer period of time than a reviewer has at his immediate disposal, they might conceivably 'grow on one'. ''Tis a gift to be simple'', as the old song remind us, and simplicity sometimes has a way of concealing its inner strength. But inventiveness seems to be minimal, and on the face of there is little to suggest that any of the musical settings would not, so far as their inherent expressiveness is concerned, suit any of the poems equally well. Perhaps the crushed notes of Home they brought her warrior dead and the chimes of The time draws near the birth of Christ should be noted as exceptions.
Happily, Liza Lehmann's Belloc settings provide a delightful discovery. In ''Rebecca'' (who had ''the trick that everyone abhors/In little girls of slamming doors'') she keeps a straight face in her mock-seriousness; and in ''Jim'' (eaten—before that other notable victim, Albert Ramsbottom—by a lion in the zoo) her music swings pleasantly at first, with gay abandon eventually. All the settings share the wit of the verses. So too with Sterndale Bennett and Charles Hayes, whose musical and verbal send-ups match perfectly. Singer and pianist catch the humour and refrain from overplaying it. Recorded sound and presentation are fine, the latter enriched by a reproduction of one of Lear's paintings on the front of the sleeve.'