Clément Canonne’s second recording of music by Florent Schmitt encompasses all the solo piano scores created by the composer during the 1930s.

One of the most interesting and significant recent recordings of Florent Schmitt’s music features three solo piano compositions dating from the composer’s late-career period (the 1940s and ‘50s). The disc was recorded by French pianist Clément Canonne in December 2023 and was released in early 2025 on the Urborigène Records label.

Not only were they the very first commercial recordings of the three works, Canonne’s recording was unique in that it represented the first time Schmitt’s late piano music had received such prominent attention on disc.

The Urborigène recording garnered attention worldwide and was met with critical acclaim. Writing in the September/October 2025 issue of Fanfare Magazine, American music critic Steven Kruger called the recording “a lovely release of harmonically interesting music in true-to-life sound from a stunningly virtuosic pianist.” About these late-career works by Schmitt, Kruger noted:

“No matter how tangy and cool his later harmonies became, there is always a current of emotional heat and romance running through them … His music intuitively reveals the suddenness of a changing thought and evokes rapidly shifting cinematic moments quivering with stream-of-consciousness surprise or alarm. This quality exists not only in his orchestral works but in his piano music as well … 

The [music here] partakes of Schmitt’s mid-century style, balancing melody and dissonance, the dense and the mercurial. There are also some considerable technical demands being effortlessly tossed off — yet like any good French recipe, it is never too elaborated.”

Musician, author and critic Jean-Marc Petit included similarly insightful observations in his review of the Canonne recording that appeared in September 2025 in the online magazine ResMusica.com. In Clavecin obtempérante, Petit pointed out the pianist’s “dry and energetic interpretation, perfectly in keeping with the spirit of the music,” while in the Piano Sonata he noted Canonne’s success in “unraveling the music’s complexities without resorting to fanfare or showmanship.”

In explaining how these late piano works fit into the Schmitt catalogue of compositions, Petit wrote:

“The composer was a curious figure — a musician as fascinating as he was enigmatic … It is this multifaceted, complex personality that pianist Clément Canonne brings to life … 

Although more intimate than his grand symphonic works, these pieces from the composer’s later years are brimming with an uncommon energy … We are far removed here from the orientalism of La Tragédie de Salomé or the weightiness of Psaume XLVII, which brought Florent Schmitt fame. But this other side of the composer is just as fascinating.”

Shortly after the release of his first Schmitt recording, Clément Canonne decided to conduct further exploration into the composer’s large trove of solo piano music, working backwards in time to investigate piano scores from the decade of the 1930s. Comparatively speaking, there’s a larger body of solo piano works dating from this period – enough to create a recorded program of approximately 65 minutes in duration.

Several of the compositions in the upcoming recording are at least somewhat known to pianists. Indeed, three of the works on the forthcoming disk have already been the subject of several commercial recordings – Chaîne brisée, Op. 87, La Retardée, Op. 90 and Enfants, Op. 94 – while two others have each received one recording before now (Trois danses, Op. 86 and Small Gestures, Op. 92).

Even so, none of these five piano compositions could be classified as famous – far from it. Indeed, it’s quite rare to encounter any of them in live performances. (A notable exception is Trois danses, which has been featured recently on a series of recital programs presented by the American pianist Matthew Bengtson across the United States.)

Beyond those pieces, Clément Canonne is including four additional works that are first-ever commercial recordings. The most substantial of these is the original (piano) version of Suite sans esprit de suite, Op. 89, a five-movement set that was originally intended as part of a collection of piano works created by eight Francophone composers to be introduced in recital by students of the noted pianist and pedagogue Marguerite Long at the Paris Exposition of 1937.

Due to the dimensions of Schmitt’s five-movement contribution – dwarfing the short items that were provided by the seven other composers – this Suite sans esprit de suite was deemed too ambitious for the project and therefore was replaced by La Retardée – a work that is barely two minutes in duration.

Ultimately, the Suite sans esprit de suite would be published as a standalone composition. The suite’s five contrasting movements (Majeza, Charmilles, Pécorée de calabre, Thrène, Bronx) are better known in their orchestral garb (prepared by Schmitt nearly contemporaneously with the original piano version) — and indeed two commercial recordings exist of the orchestrated version.  But Canonne’s recording of the piano version of the suite is the first one ever made.

Rounding out this substantial collection of Schmitt’s complete solo piano pieces from the 1930s is the premiere commercial recording of Songe (composed at approximately the same time as Suite sans esprit de suite), along with two additional items that Clément Canonne discovered in manuscript form at the archives of the Bibliothèque national de France: Sonnailles (dating from approximately 1937); plus a short untitled composition dating from 1933 that was dedicated to the daughter of a music critic friend — the manuscript having remained in her family until being donated to the BnF in 1982.

As with his first Florent Schmitt recording, Clément Canonne, who is a faculty member at IRCAM (Institut de recherche et coordination acoustique/musique) in Paris, has used that organization’s acoustically exceptional Espace de projection for the recording sessions which were held on February 23-25, 2026.

Shortly thereafter, the pianist was kind enough to share his thoughts on the scores that are featured on this second disk of solo piano music, and those observations are presented below. (Note: Mr. Canonne’s remarks have been translated from the French into English.)

PLN:  This new recording focuses on the solo piano scores composed by Florent Schmitt during the 1930s. When you compare these compositions to the later pieces that comprised your first recording, in what ways do the two groups differ in character? Are there some similarities as well?

CC:  There are quite clear stylistic differences indeed. This is what led me to group the works composed after World War II separately from the those composed during the 1930s. From a harmonic point of view, the piano works of the 1930s are more clearly tonal (or modal), whereas the postwar works give more space to polytonal or chromatic explorations. 

From a rhythmic point of view, the piano works of the 1930s are particularly marked by dance-like rhythms, accentuations and phrasing, whereas the postwar works tend to be more abstract or more whimsical. 

But behind these differences, there is of course a common thread that characterizes Florent Schmitt’s piano writing from the 1930s onward: frank and robust expression; rhythmic clarity; an abundance of acciaccaturas and appoggiaturas; a taste for rupture and contrast, plus great fluidity in the transitions from one register to another.

PLN:  While none of the pieces you’re recording are well-known, two of the piano sets have been commercially recorded before now. One is Trois danses, which has been recorded once before, in 1957. What are your impressions of this suite and its three individual movements?

CC:  Trois danses is, in my opinion, a small masterpiece. The central movement, Bocane, has a particularly expressive climax which invites the two hands to desynchronize, as if the musical voices were becoming increasingly independent of one another. 

The outer movements (Montferrine and Danse de corde) are full of energy, but with different pianistic approaches — more digital for Montferrine and more vertical for Danse de corde. In both cases I opted for very fast tempi, allowing me to do justice to the often-overflowing and almost frenetic joy of these pieces.

PLN:  Another set, Chaîne brisée [“Broken Chain”], has had several commercial recordings before yours. The first movement is a memorial tribute to the composer Paul Dukas, which appeared before the other two pieces in the set. What are the special qualities of that piece, as well as the other two items?

CC:  Here again, this is a magnificent cycle. It is undoubtedly in the first movement, Stèle pour le tombeau Paul Dukas, that my interpretation has evolved the most over time. I initially allowed myself to be guided by the splendor of the harmonies, lending a more impressionistic aspect to my playing. But ultimately, I elected to place at the center the tolling of the bell that runs through the piece in the form of a repeated note (clearly evoking Ravel’s Gibet from Gaspard de la nuit), and to emphasize the monumental, almost granite-like aspect of this memorial tribute. 

The two pieces that follow return to dance and rhythmic expression — but without abandoning song-like characteristics, since both the Barcarolle de la sept vierges and Branle de sortie display, in their middle sections, highly lyrical episodes. 

The central passage of the Branle de Sortie is particularly impressive, with its slow melody unfolding in an absolutely sumptuous harmonic environment, blending deep bass, triple beats in the middle register and delicate iridescence in the piano’s treble. The main difficulty here is to never lose the natural flow of the melody.

PLN:  The most extensive composition on this program is the Suite sans esprit de suite, and your recording will be the first one ever made of the piano version of this music. Like Trois danses, it seems to find Schmitt exploring dance forms, both ancient and modern. What are your thoughts about each of the five pieces that make up this set, and what you find particularly noteworthy about them.

CC:  I confess I have difficulty understanding why this Suite sans esprit de suite hasn’t yet been recorded, given its great variety and pianistic appeal. The piano version is not a later transcription, but rather the original form of this music, as evidenced by the manuscripts I was able to consult at the Bibliothèque nationale de France. 

Unlike the two preceding cycles, the content of this suite is quite heterogeneous — both in terms of inspiration (the Mediterranean, the Orient, jazz and so forth) and character (sometimes comic, sometimes contemplative or lyrical). This probably explains the title Schmitt chose for the grouping of the five pieces that make up this set – a suite whose varied movements are not characteristic of the integrated nature of a typical musical suite. 

Majeza is the great virtuoso piece of the cycle; its very dense coda, full of rapid left-hand passages, is incredibly gnarly from a technical standpoint! And at the same time, there is something eminently pianistic in the constant interplay of accents and registers. 

Charmilles is a piece with a very Fauré-like atmosphere — again expertly crafted from a pianistic standpoint. Pécorée de calabre is the comic piece of the cycle, with many surprising dynamic contrasts and a continual dialogue between the right and left hands. 

Thrène is a masterpiece of simplicity, restraint, and economy of means. The writing invites the pianist to great delicacy, whether in the pianissimos or in the effects of transparency.

Finally, Bronx is intended to be inspired by jazz; but don’t look for a drop of authentic jazz in this piece — you won’t find it! Instead, it’s more of an evocation of the atmosphere and energy surrounding this kind of music.

PLN:  Among the works you are including are two manuscripts that you discovered in Schmitt’s papers housed at the Bibliothèque nationale in Paris. What can you tell us about the history of these two pieces, and what do you find worthwhile about them?

CC:  I did indeed discover two 1930s-era piano manuscripts. Far different than the scope of the 1950 Piano Sonata that I also unearthed, these are two short pieces. The first manuscript, which is untitled, dates from February 1933 and bears the dedication “à Guénola Destranges.” It is a very beautiful piece, carried by a broad melody, and is in a rather polyphonic style. 

The second manuscript is entitled Sonnailles [Sonorous Bells]. It’s undated, but it turns out that it’s the original version of Quasimodo, the concluding movement of a suite for piano, oboe, clarinet and bassoon titled À tour d’anches[Reeds in Turn] that Schmitt completed writing in 1938. As with the 1950 Piano Sonata which later became the Chants alizés for five wind instruments, the manuscript is completely finalized and includes orchestration notes marked in pencil. 

This piano version works perfectly in that it takes full advantage of the piano’s resources — particularly in simulating the sounds of bells. I’m not certain of the exact date of Sonnailles, but as it predates Schmitt’s work on À tour d’anches, it would have been composed in 1938 or earlier.

PLN:  Another “orphan” composition is Songe, which is sometimes catalogued with La Retardée under the same opus number (Op. 90), but the two were never published together. I sense similarities in style and feeling between Songe and the Bocane movement of Trois danses. Do you agree with that notion?

CC:  Songe is another gem — a short but intense piece. I agree with the comparison to the Bocane, and there are also traces of the Stèle pour le tombeau de Paul Dukas.

All of these pieces share a common feature: a writing style that makes extensive use of the harmonic pedals. This is further evidence for me to date the composition of Songe to the late 1930s, and therefore to the same time period as La Retardée and Sonnailles. 

Since La Retardée bears the opus number 90/3, and I have often wondered what the two other pieces of this opus 90 were intended to be, I’ve chosen to group these three pieces as a short “suite,” with Sonnailles as the opening movement, Songe as the central movement and La Retardée the concluding movement. I think this grouping works quite well, and it’s my hope that it may help to make these three short pieces better known.

PLN:  Somewhat different from the pieces we’ve discussed are two suites that Schmitt composed on the subject of children: Small Gestures and Enfants. What are your thoughts regarding these two sets?

CC:  To offer the listener the complete picture of Florent Schmitt’s pre-war period, I decided to record the two other piano cycles that Schmitt composed during the 1930s, even though they are clearly quite different in nature. Thematically, in these works we see the world of dance give way to the world of childhood — sometimes modest and sensitive, sometimes playful and mischievous. 

Pianistically, the writing is considerably simplified. Commissioned at the end of the decade by Carl Fischer Music, an American firm that published Schmitt’s score of three short pieces as part of its “Masters of Our Day” series of works designed for piano instruction, Small Gestures was conceived for intermediate-level pianists to play — much like Ravel’s Ma mère l’oye and Debussy’s Children’s Corner. 

Thus Schmitt reduces his musical language to its essentials, yet without sacrificing any of the poetry or humor. The result is three miniatures (collectively the entire set lasts barely five minutes in duration) of immediate appeal, which deserve to be more widely known. 

Enfants is somewhat different. While it remains firmly within the world of childhood and while “economy of means” is still very much the order of the day, the scale of the composition is considerably larger — eight pieces totaling about fifteen minutes in duration.

Above all, these pieces demand greater technical mastery of the piano, whether it be to render the polyphony expressed in Enfant de chœur, Enfant gâté or Enfant turbulent, or the agitation — sometimes light and sometimes frenetic — that underlies Enfant moustique or the final movement Enfant terrible. 

Pianistically speaking, I must say that this last number of Enfants reminds me more of Prokofiev’s Suggestion diabolique (to quote another famous “enfant terrible” of classical music) than any such “easy piece” composed for a children’s audience or for students to perform! 

In any case, Enfants is yet another marvelous piano suite. To my knowledge, the set has already been the subject of at least two quality recordings, but I thought that we could accept a world in which there is a third version of such a winsome work!

PLN:  Some of the music you are recording appears to be quite challenging in terms of piano technique. What technical issues did you need to overcome in order to present these pieces in their best light?

CC:  Indeed, preparing this second recording, which includes all of Florent Schmitt’s piano works composed in the 1930s, was quite a challenge. There are some truly virtuosic items, including Danse de corde, Branle de sortie, Majeza, Bronx, Enfant terrible and so on. 

Generally speaking, Schmitt’s writing during this period combines two types of challenges: its density (extremely dense chords, appoggiaturas, an orchestral approach to the piano); and its fluidity (numerous leaps and contrasts in register). This demands great clarity in articulation, in the use of the pedal and in the differentiation of musical planes, as otherwise the music becomes confusing. 

The piano also allows for very fast tempi, which are usually substantially more difficult to achieve in an orchestra (due to the need for coordination between the different sections). This enabled me to amplify the exhilarating energy of certain pieces, but I had to accept the inevitable risks that come with this kind of tempo. I hope listeners of the recording will be convinced!

PLN:  Having come to know these compositions so intimately, how significant do you think they are in terms of the French piano repertoire of the 20th century?

CC:  Having now explored all of Schmitt’s piano works from the 1930s to 1950s, I’m more convinced than ever of the importance of this composer’s music, along with the exceptional quality of his mature piano writing. Numerous pieces are quite inventive and the writing remains eminently pianistic, despite the obvious challenges involved. 

This makes the music very rewarding — sometimes even exhilarating — to play. I cannot recommend highly enough that pianists take it on!

PLN:  In closing, are there any additional observations you would like to make about Florent Schmitt and his piano works?

CC:  Speaking personally, I find Florent Schmitt’s music so compelling that I continue to study his piano works in detail, covering the entire span of his lengthy career as a composer.

Quite logically, continuing to work my way back chronologically means that my plan is to now focus on piano compositions from the 1910s and 1920s that have not yet been commercially recorded. 

As it turns out, there’s enough material for a third volume that’s almost entirely new! I hope I can bring that project to fruition in the not-too-distant future.

_______________________

We are certainly hopeful that such a future project can materialize. In the meantime, post-production is proceeding on Clément Canonne’s second recording of Schmitt’s solo piano music, and it is scheduled to be released in late 2026 or early 2027.

To that end, a crowdfunding campaign has been established, seeking additional funding to help cover the costs of final production (editing, mixing, and mastering) as well as printing and distribution of the physical CDs. (The new recording will also be available for download and streaming.)

Florent Schmitt afficionados around the world who are interested in contributing to the campaign are invited to visit the campaign website here.