The group of young French composers known as Les Six came together in the early 20th century in negative reaction to weighty German romanticism and a lot more besides. Their music, in contrast, is spare, airy, witty, sardonic and – unless you’re not in the mood, in which case wait till you are – irresistibly chirpy.
The French husband-and-wife piano duo Pascal and Ami Rogé have compiled an album of short and longer works by each of Les Six: George Auric, Louis Durey, Arthur Honegger, Darius Milhaud, Francis Poulenc and Germaine Tailleferre. Poulenc’s sparkling Capriccio and Tailleferre’s dreamy Jeux de plein air stand out; Auric and Durey, their names less well remembered, leave a fainter mark. Once in your head, Milhaud’s gleeful Scaramouche suite will never leave. (Listeners to Jess Gillam’s Radio 3 programme This Classical Life will recognise its theme tune, the Brasileira.)
The Rogés, experts at this repertoire, delight in the quirky rhythmic games and breathless, endless charm. The bonus, a stiffener to the levity, is the piano 4-hands version of Satie’s ballet Parade (1917), composed for Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes, with designs by Picasso and a scenario by Cocteau: a slice of early surrealism worth exploring.
