It is easy, in our hard-bitten age, to be patronizing or dismissive about Edward MacDowell (1860—1908), to forget that he was a true poet of ''forest, sky and sea''. Like Debussy he aimed for a form of poetic 'inscape' (''the spirit of a picture not the picture itself'' according to his wife) and like another supreme poet of nature he can evoke a time ''when meadow, grave and stream/The earth and ever common sight/To me did seem/Apparelled in celestial light''.
All the pieces on this disc—bearing a family likeness yet sharply and individually evocative—recall a world of past fancy and innocence and their exquisite craftsmanship is surely the opposite of homespun. Outwardly derivative and conventional they are graced with unmistakable touches of spirituality and adventurousness. Who can resist ''To a water-lily'' or more playfully, revel in the antics of ''From Uncle Remus'' (a jolly old bean) and ''Of Br'er Rabbit'' with his ''lippity-clip and his blickety-blick'') There is stern admonition in ''From an Indian Lodge'' and emotion in ''An Old Love Story'' is not always recollected in tranquillity. ''From the Depths'' rises to Lisztian drama, while ''From a German Forest'' reminds us of MacDowell's love of German romanticism (and more particularly, of Schumann's Waldszenen).
All this music needs tender loving care and I can hardly imagine it played with greater warmth or affection than by James Barbagallo. He has indeed, as the sleeve tells us, ''found a particular charm and profundity'' in this music and both he and his mother, to whom the present album is dedicated, should be more than proud. The recordings are as natural and glowing as the performances Marina Ledin's notes are long and detailed, and the sleeve, quite rightly, shows Br'er Rabbit on the front and James Barbagallo on the back. I can hardly wait for a second volume.'