Franck's reputation rests on a surprisingly small number of works—the Symphony and Symphonic Variations, three or four tone-poems, the Piano Quintet and Violin Sonata, and some piano and organ music. Yet a glance at his catalogue of compositions shows it to be quite large—not by classical standards perhaps, but compared to, say, that of Walton, to say nothing of his pupil Duparc. However, certain works have not held a very firm place in the repertory. And what of this big oratorio of 1869-79, on a subject contemplated by the composer from his youth? According to Vincent D'Indy, writing some 30 years later, this was ''the long-expected work of the close of the nineteenth century... this musical epic is undoubtedly the greatest work which has found a place in the development of the art for a very long time''.
So why, we may wonder, has Les beatitudes failed to take the place in French music corresponding to Elgar's Dream of Gerontius in this country? This performance, though often quite strong and fervent, may provide some kind of an answer. It was recorded at a live occasion in Paris last November, and the acoustic is a good one for soloists, choir and orchestra alike, while the conductor Armin Jordan shows the right kind of sympathy with the style. Yet somehow the overall effect is disappointing, and the spiritual experience that Franck so much desired to convey in this much loved text (the New Testament words here amplified by Madame Colomb, the wife of a teacher at the Lycee de Versailles) is not really achieved. The fact is that the musical language used is often conventional and lacking in the individual chromatic flavour that is so characteristic and attractive in Franck's later music. It is also a serious weakness in a work on this large scale that melody, rhythm and instrumentation are throughout rather unmemorable. Indeed, rhythm seems an especially weak feature, and for much of the time seems merely to plod along, for example in the triple-time music of the Third Beatitude. Where evil must be depicted (as in Satan's ''C'est moi l'esprit du mal''), even D'Indy admits that his kindly teacher Franck was dealing with an area so foreign to his nature that ''he never succeeded in giving it adequate expression''.
A curiosity, one thereofre feels—and with regret—rather than a neglected masterpiece. But for Franckians this issue must nevertheless provide a valuable addition to their shelves. The singers are adequate if not really of the first class; the Christ of Marcel Vanaud has dignity but sounds rather elderly with his heavy vibrato, and the tenor Peter Jeffes could offer clearer diction, though his fellow tenor David Rendall has some heroic moments and good high Bs. In No. 7, Francois Loup does what he can with the role of Satan. Among the ladies, there is some rather unfocused tone and pitch, but the devotional quality is right. Decent sound, with very little extraneous noise for a live recording.'