Franck's devoted disciple d'Indy, to whom Psyche was dedicated, affirmed that the work ''has nothing of the pagan spirit about it but, on the contrary, is imbued with Christian grace and feeling''. That he should thus deny its erotic quality suggests either a singular lack of perception or an attempt to cover up the reason for Franck's belated surge of passionate feelings. Fortunately the present performance is under no such delusions or inhibitions: it brings out the tender sensuality of Franck's score (which is orchesrated with a delicacy that sets it apart from his Symphony, written at the same time), responding to the fervour of the love scene but without any cloying sentimentality. Armin Jordan has already given abundant proofs of his musical sensitivity, but not having heard the Basle Symphony Orchestra before, I was unprepared for the finesse and excellence of its playing. (It sounds as if it could do with a few more violins, but that is the only criticism I would make of it.)
The current absence from the catalogue of Les Eolides is made good by this fresh, graceful reading, which does not overdo the strength of the mistral wind with which Franck amplified Leconte de Lisle's airy vision. The piece de resistance here is Le chasseur maudit, which Jordan shapes and nuances admirably, allowing the initial horn calls to change from neutral to defiant only after the pious church theme has vainly called the erring Count: the interruption of the alert rhythmic drive of the chase, when the hunter finds that his horn will not respond, is graphically portrayed. The recording captures the excitement of the performance with exemplary clarity, with but one flaw—where is the bell that should clang ominously as the Count is doomed to pursue his wild hunt for all eternity?'