The Listener, 21 November 1968

Although the name of Lili Boulanger and the story of her brilliant musical ability and tragically early death are known to music-lovers in this country, the opportunities for hearing her music have been regrettably few. It is because of this that even those who know her name tend to think of her as a composer of great but unfulfilled promise. In fact, she was more than this: a study, or even a hearing of any of her few published compositions convinces one that they are not the work of someone in process of forming a style, but of one already in full possession of a distinctive musical personality. One is equally struck by the impeccable craftsmanship they reveal. Written in the few years of her adult life, they show a maturity and wholeness beyond what one would think possible at that age. There is about them a certainty, a quiet authority that establishes itself immediately.

The works by which she is chiefly known are settings of religious texts. Of these, the most considerable is the psalm for contralto solo, tenor solo, chorus, organ and orchestra, Du fond de l'abîme. The text is the French version of the De profundis. It is in one continuous movement, everything seeming to grow naturally out of the material heard in the opening pages. Thus the adjacent semitones of the orchestral opening, heard deep in the bass, become part of a design; they are not mere illustration.