But just as Paul Paray was not quite as artistically reclusive as Dickinson, nor was he as gifted. The works on this disc show a composer of enormous competence and occasional brilliance. But there is an experience one craves when discovering neglected works: it is that of wondering how on earth such magnificent art could have wound up in the trash bin of musical history. In the case of Paul Paray, you are always on the verge of asking yourself that question, but before you can ask it, you are already coming up with a couple of answers.

In the first place, Paray was hopelessly conservative. While Arnold Schoenberg was reinventing harmony, Elliott Carter was reinventing Arnold Schoenberg and John Cage was reinventing music, Paray was content to work with minor and major triads and the sonata-allegro form.

The listener, weary of the cacophonous invention that characterized so much of this century's musical avant-garde, might thank Paray for his conservatism. But the fact remains that in 1935 there was only so much left to be said in the musical language of Johannes Brahms and Cisar Franck. And so, perhaps inevitably, Paray winds up sounding quite a bit like -- surprise! -- Johannes Brahms and Cisar Franck. Both tough acts to follow, particularly since Paray did not possess an extravagant talent for development. In these relentlessly classical works, many of Paray's fine tunes and motives simply get worn out by unembellished repetition by the time the movement is through.

While it may not warrant a permanent place in the repertory, Paray's music is certainly worth a listen. There are wonderful elements here: classical grace, French Romantic exoticism, a quirky and vital sense of humor. This music can be enjoyed for its own sake; but it might also remind you how much you appreciate Brahms and Franck and, for that matter, Emily Dickinson.