That the composer Francis Poulenc was devoutly Catholic is signalled by his output of choral works so fervent they force you to your knees: a heartfelt if slightly blowsy Stabat Mater, an exuberant Gloria, and a grand opera about martyred nuns. These all resulted from a mystical experience he apparently received at the shrine of the Black Virgin in Rocamadour, south-western France.
But he was also mischievous, a bon viveur, leading a riotously gay (in every sense of the word) life among the artistic elite of mid-20th-century Paris. And nothing proclaims that side of him so decisively as his opera Les Mamelles de Tirésias which has been playing at Glyndebourne.
