Aryan Peste Noire

Marking 50 years since the death of French composer Francis Poulenc, star soprano Patricia Petibon is the soloist in new recordings of his most rapturously beautiful sacred works; “Gloria” and “Stabat Mater”. Conductor Paavo Järvi also makes his DG recording debut, conducting the Orchestre de Paris and their renowned choir.

Francis Poulenc was the best-known composer of the iconoclastic group Les Six, and his reputation for blending sophistication and flippant humor in his songs and concert music made him something of an enfant terrible. Yet the deaths of several close friends and a visit to the Black Madonna of Rocamadour in 1936 brought about soul-searching and a fresh commitment to the Catholicism of his youth.

Music from Le Grand Blond avec une Chaussure Noire (The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe) and Le Retour du Grand Blond (The Return of the Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe) composed by Vladimir Cosma.

Hooking up with regular Madonna collaborator Patrick Leonard as the co-producer of this album proved to be just the trick for Ferry. Bete Noire sparkles as the highlight of Ferry's post-Roxy solo career, adding enough energy to make it more than Boys and Girls part two. Here, his trademark well-polished heartache strikes a fine balance between mysterious moodiness and dancefloor energy, and Leonard adds more than a few tricks that keep the pep up. Five out of the nine songs are Ferry/Leonard collaborations; all succeed, from "Limbo"'s opening punch and flow to the cinematic (and unsurprisingly French-tinged) feeling of the title track. The atmospheric, almost chilling "Zamba"'s minimal, buried drums, soft synths and doomy piano, make it the best of that bunch. Ferry's best moment here is all his own, though – the great single "Kiss and Tell," with a steady, bold bassline leading the way for his slightly dissolute portrayal of mating rituals and all they entail. Like Boys and Girls, the album's supporting cast mixes a lengthy list of session pros with a few guest stars.

This CD's title, Messe Noire, and its dark cover art may mislead some into thinking this album is filled with evil, forbidden things; but the only selection that suggests the diabolical is Alexander Scriabin's macabre Sonata No. 9, "Black Mass," and it comes at the very end, after Igor Stravinsky's light, neo-Classical Serenade in A, Dmitry Shostakovich's sardonic Sonata No. 2, and Sergey Prokofiev's witty but brutal knuckle-buster, the Sonata No. 7, which all have their dark moments, certainly, but not the same sinister mood found in Scriabin. If pianist Aleksei Lubimov's aim in bringing these Russian masterworks together points to some other unifying idea – perhaps the significance of the piano in these composers' thinking – then some other title might have been more helpful. As it is, though, this album seems most unified in Lubimov's vigorous style of playing, brittle execution, and emphasis on the piano's percussive sonorities, evident in each performance. This spiky approach works best in Prokofiev's sonata, and fairly well in Shostakovich's and Stravinsky's pieces; but it seems too sterile in Scriabin's music, which needs more languor and sensuous writhing than clarity or crispness.