Warmhearted but clear-eyed, the Schubert Ensemble of London's recordings of the Piano Quartets of Fauré are anything but French performances. Where French performers can parse their emotions down to the most infinitesimal gradation of feeling but are intellectually profoundly superficial, these English performers are intellectually clear and lucid, but their interpretations are still deeply felt.

These readings of Fauré's two late piano quintets by the Schubert Ensemble of London are paradoxical. The group's performances are strong-willed and purposeful in the outer movements, particularly in the C minor Quintet's ever accelerating Finale, yet soft-focused and sensuous in the central slow movements, especially the D minor Quintet's deeply dolorous Adagio. The tone changes from robustly incisive to sweetly sonorous, the ensemble from vigorously muscular to smoothly refined, and the rhythms from sharply accented to softly undulating.

Although he was a student at the Paris Conservatoire at the same time as Debussy, studied with Massenet and Franck, won the Prix de Rome, and even succeeded Franck at the venerable post of organist at Sainte-Clotilde, the name of Gabriel Pierné is little remembered today, to say nothing of his compositions. Fortunately for listeners, the Canadian ensemble Trio Hochelaga has among its missions the revitalization of forgotten and underappreciated French compositions. Pierné's C minor trio certainly falls into their purview.

Works by Gabriel Fauré and Richard Wagner aren't usually mentioned in the same breath, though an astute listener will easily understand why they are brought together for this late Romantic program. The lush and atmospheric harmonies and languorous melodies of Fauré's Pelléas et Mélisande, the Élégie, and his songs sort well with the benign lyricism and yearning chromaticism of Wagner's Siegfried Idyll, a serenade based on themes from the music drama, Siegfried. Indeed, this album demonstrates how pervasive Wagner's influence was, that even the classically calm and composed Fauré could not resist its expressive possibilities.

Gabriel Fauré originally wrote his song cycle, La Bonne chanson, for voice and piano, but a few years after its 1894 premiere he created a version with string quintet and piano. He later questioned the wisdom of having made the arrangement, thinking perhaps he was gilding the lily by adding even more sumptuous timbral richness to a work that was already so melodically and harmonically sensuous. Few listeners are likely to complain about his arrangement, though, particularly when it is performed as well as it is here, with mezzo-soprano Karine Deshayes and members of Ensemble Contraste. Deshayes has a relatively light lyric voice that still has enough fullness to put across the romantic ardor of the music and the poetry.

If I had to pick only a handful of discs to single out as being of extreme worth to me personally - this would be one of them. There are just some works out there where the composer was inspired to record something truly extraordinary. This is one such work and this recording is the best that I know of. I have also spent a lot of time with the Fournet, Rotterdam recording Fauré: Requiem; Pavane; Pelléas et Mélisande . And while I think that is a fine recording, this ASMF recording with Marriner is a cut above. The playing is sensuous and refined, the tempos are perfect to convey the feeling of the music. This recording has lifted me up at some very low times in my life, and never ceases to convey power, wonder, and awe.

The two sonatas for cello and piano along with the D minor Piano Trio were among the last works that Fauré was to complete before his death in 1924 at the ripe old age of 79. Despite the many dire circumstances that filled the latter years of Fauré's life, and in light of his choice to score each of these pieces in dark, minor keys, all three compositions have many moments of complete joy. The two cello sonatas are performed by cellist Christian Poltéra and pianist Kathryn Stott. Both artists have an impeccable sense of line and flow and are able to spin out the long, wandering phrases Fauré lays down.

Faure's outpout for the piano is prodigious, but the intensely introspective nature of his music has eluded performers and audience alike. Thankfully, pianists like Collard have made this music available to the public. Collard's Faure is buoyant, lyrical, youthful and therefore somewhat straight forward, yet it is an approach that rescues this music from sentimentality, especially in those written during Faure's early period. For example, when compared to Paul Crossley, whose Valses-Caprice stretches rhythmic freedom beyond good taste, Collard's no-nonsense reading brings out the vitality of these exquisite pieces. If you like Chopin already but are not familiar with Faure, this would be a good introduction.

Fauré’s second opera, Pénélope (yes, he wrote two, though Prométhée is hardly ever heard and doesn’t seem to have received a complete recording) is a late work (1913), but although his late chamber music has established themselves pretty firmly in the repertoire, Pénélope has not fared so well, despite being described by e.g. Copland as one of the best operas written since Wagner. One of the reasons may be that the music is, overall, “distinctly non-theatrical” – indeed, the musical style is distinctly written in the flowing, ever-changing and dreamy style of his late chamber works – no big arias or easy excerpts here – and Fauré seems to have deliberately avoided much in terms of stage action until the very end (a pity, then, that the libretto is otherwise rather uninteresting).

Faure-lovers have long prayed for reissue of the two sonatas from Grumiaux and Paul Crossley. And they won't be disappointed. The sound itself is pleasing. And there is a radiance in the playing suggesting an unerring understanding of structure and style that somehow goes hand in hand with the joyous spontaneity of new discovery. The hyper-sensitive suppleness of Grumiaux's shading and phrasing is a particular delight, as is his awareness that just as much of the musical message comes from the piano particularly in the Second Sonata.

The music on this 2-disc set and its companion 'Vol 2' set is among the loveliest chamber music you can find anywhere, at least to my mind. Most people know Faure for his gentle 'Requiem,' but anyone wanting to explore the melody-rich world of late 19th-century French Romanticism can't go wrong with these recordings. All of this music is utterly non-flashy and breathtakingly beautiful, never cloying or oversweet like so many works of this period. Faure, an essentially old fashioned guy, was a consummate craftsman and an imaginative melodist.