The name of Francis Poulenc (1899-1963) was first brought to prominence in the 1920s as a member of Les Six, a group of young French composers encouraged by Satie and Cocteau. His subsequent fame spread well beyond France, and he is coming to be regarded as one of this century's most significant composers. His compositions are heard constantly in concert halls the world over, and numerous recordings, including complete sets of songs and piano music, have been released. Books, articles and more than a dozen doctoral dissertations have discussed his music. Carl Schmidt's catalogue of Poulenc's works represents the first comprehensive attempt to list an oeuvre which numbers approximately 185 compositions written from his teenage years until his death at the age of 63. The Catalogue indentifies a number of unpublished works, and adds a small group of compositions to his musical canon for the first time. Each work, whether complete or unfinished, published or unpublished, is described fully. Catalogue entries list and describe all known printed editions (including reprints) and manuscript copies of each work. In addition, they provide detailed compositional histories based on numerous letters, documents, and press accounts, many of which have not been published previously. Russian interest in Poulenc's music, manifested in press runs exceeding one million copies, is also revealed for the first time.

’He plays the piano well,’ wrote the society hostess Mme de Saint-Marceaux in her diary on 18 March 1927. ’His compositions are not devoid of talent but he’s not a genius, and I’m afraid he thinks he is.’ Intelligent though the lady was, she got this one spectacularly wrong. Poulenc has in fact outpaced his colleagues in Les Six by many a mile, as singers and instrumentalists all over the world will attest, and while he would never have accepted the title of ’genius’, preferring ’artisan’, a genius is increasingly what he appears to have been. Part of the answer lay in always being his own man, and this independence of spirit shows through in his writings and interviews just as brightly as in his music, whether it’s boasting that he’d be happy never to hear The Mastersingers ever again, pointing out that what critics condemn as the ’formlessness’ of French music is one of its delights, voicing his outrage at attempts to ’finish’ the Unfinished Symphony, writing ’in praise of banality’ - or remembering the affair of Debussy’s hat. And in every case, his intelligence, humour and generosity of spirit help explain why he was so widely and deeply loved. This volume comprises selected articles from Francis Poulenc: J’écris ce qui me chante (Fayard, 2011) edited by Nicholas Southon. Many of these articles and interviews have not been available in English before and Roger Nichols's translation, capturing the very essence of Poulenc’s lively writing style, makes more widely accessible this significant contribution to Poulenc scholarship.