Erotic
dream
There is a painting by Victor Boucher in the National Gallery in London, which
represents a young faun, half hidden away in the reeds, watching some nymphs
at play: and it was seeing this painting which led the French poet Stéphane
Mallarmé to write his poem L’après-midi d’un faune.
Ten years later, in 1892, his poem inspired Claude Debussy to write a composition
originally entitled Prélude, interlude et paraphrase finale pour l’après-midi
d’un faune. This title suggests that Debussy had intended the work as
incidental music, perhaps even as an accompaniment to the recital of the poem.
However, following the suggestion made by his colleague Paul Dukas, he combined
the three separate parts and the ensuing work, Prélude à l’après-midi
d’un faune, was given its première in December 1894. The audience
reacted with great enthusiasm, insisting on an immediate repeat performance.
What an enormous success for a composition which, fundamentally, heralded the
birth of “twentieth-century music”!
In Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune, Debussy
carefully distances himself from the major and minor tonalities. He is no longer
bound by the old harmonic rules. The long-drawn-out C sharp with which the
piece begins initiates the flourish of the solo flute, which fills the interval
between the C sharp and the G (the notorious tritone interval, also known as
the ‘diabolus in musica’) with semi-tones. This makes is impossible
to interpret these first bars within the contexts of any existing key, and
also has direct consequences for the form of the piece. Instead of logically
developing one or several themes, Debussy chooses to let the flute melody return
a number of times, without too many alterations. This gives the work the character
of a long-drawn-out improvisation. And, of course, the orchestration: can one
imagine any other instrument but the flute playing the introductory melody?
Debussy defined his Prélude as “an extremely liberal illustration
of the wondrous poem by Stéphane Mallarmé.” However, the
composer warned against categorizing the work as illustrative music: “It
is more a representation of the various settings in which the dreams and longings
of the faun are played out in the sultry mood of late-afternoon.”
In 1912, the famous dancer and choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky created a ballet
for the Ballets Russes to the music of Prélude à l’après-midi
d’un faune. The preface in the programme already hinted at the direction
of his interpretation: “A faun dozes – nymphs tease him – a
forgotten scarf satisfies his dream. The curtain descends so that the poem
can begin in everyone’s memory.” In the ballet, Nijinsky recreated
the eroticism of the poem in a highly explicit manner. He wore a flesh-coloured ‘second
skin’ and his dancing left little to the imagination. But the audience
was also shocked by the ‘angular’ style of movement, thanks to
which the dancers resembled the stylized ancient Greek statues - and for which
no less than 120 rehearsals were needed. The commotion continued in the press
for quite some time, as just about everyone decided to have their say: the
impresario Serge Diaghilev, artists such as Auguste Rodin and Odilon Redon,
even politicians were involved in the debate.
Greek vases
Naturally, the scandal surrounding the Prélude à l’après-midi
d’un faune did not do Diaghilev any harm: ‘tout Paris’ suddenly
wanted to see the ballet, and the theatre was sold-out night after night. However,
this had a negative effect on another new ballet: Daphnis et Chloé by
Maurice Ravel. It was no longer possible to organize a dress rehearsal for
this ballet, and only two of the originally planned performances actually took
place. Naturally, the work was not an enormous success: following the première
on June 8, 1912, public reaction was rather lacklustre. The efforts of the
artistic team could not be faulted, though, with Nijinsky and Tamara Karsavina
dancing the principal parts and a young Pierre Monteux conducting in the orchestral
pit.
Back in 1909 already, Ravel had received an assignment to compose the music
for a major ballet for the Ballets Russes. In line with Nijinsky’s idea
for Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune, choreographer
Mikhail Fokine had in mind a ballet based on the dance movements illustrated
on ancient Greek vases. But Ravel had his own ideas on the subject, and wanted “a
vast musical fresco, less concerned with archaism than with fidelity to the
Greece of my dreams, which is close to that imagined and painted by the French
artists of the late 18th century”. He also emphasised the symphonic character
of the ballet, which consisted of small motifs developed in symphonic manner.
The plot is based on a story written by the poet Longos (2nd/3rd century A.D.).
The shepherd Daphnis wins the hand of the nymph Chloé during a dancing
competition, but she is then kidnapped by a gang of pirates. Daphnis begs the
god Pan for help, who chases off the pirates. The last scene – with which
his Suite No. 2 begins – opens with a spectacular sunrise. The lovers
are reunited and they dance the story of Pan and Syrinx in honour of Pan, accompanied
by a virtuoso flute solo. An orgiastic dance completes the ballet.
“
Un très long crescendo”
Apart from Nijinsky and Karsavina, the Ballets Russes possessed other great
talents in 1912: the young Anna Pavlova, who danced in Les sylphides, for instance;
and Ida Rubinstein, an exquisite young woman from a rich Russian-Jewish family,
who danced in Cleopâtre, a ballet set to music by various composers.
Her appearance on stage is said to have been nothing less than magical, although
she was not what is conventionally known as a great dancer. In 1928, she commissioned
a ballet from Ravel, asking the composer to orchestrate a number of piano compositions
by Isaac Albeniz. But Ravel clearly had his own idea about that. One day, he
played a short theme for the critic Gustave Samazeuilh. “Don’t
you think this theme has an insistent quality?” Ravel asked. “I’m
going to try to repeat it a number of times without any development, gradually
increasing the orchestral contribution as best as I can.” In 1931, he
once again threw some light on the work: “I am particularly anxious that
there be no misunderstanding with regard to this work. It constitutes an experiment
in a special and limited direction, a piece consisting wholly of ‘orchestral
material without music’, an extremely long and gradual crescendo without
further invention, apart from the plan and manner of execution.”
The famous rhythm of the Boléro is not an authentic bolero rhythm. It
is more like the Spanish fandango, and this title also appears regularly in
the sketches. The two alternating melodies have a Spanish-Arab character. The
most striking characteristic of the work is its sophisticated orchestration
and obsessive rhythm, which Ravel insisted should be maintained precisely until
the end. In fact, when conductor Piero Coppola made a slight acceleration in
tempo towards the end of the piece during rehearsals, he was immediately reprimanded
by the composer.
The Boléro received its première on November 22, 1928 in a choreography
by Nijinsky’s sister Bronislava Nijinska. (Summary of the story: a dancer
hesitantly tries out a few steps on a table in a poorly lit Spanish inn. Slowly,
she begins to dance. At first, the people present do not notice her, but gradually
the dancer gains their attention. They surround the table and finally are drawn
into the dance.)
It was an enormous success. Only one old lady sitting close to Ravel shouted
out: “Madness, madness, madness!” Whereupon the composer turned
to his brother and said: “She certainly understands what it’s about.”
Despite Ravel predicting that no orchestra would want to programme his Boléro,
the work was soon being performed all over the place. He conducted the first
concert performance of the Boléro himself on January 11, 1930. A few
days previously, Piero Coppola had recorded the work in the presence of the
composer.
“
Poetic purity”
Now to return to Paris in the 1890s. Between 1892 and 1900, Gabriel Fauré travelled
to London almost every year, thanks to which he became interested in English
writers. In 1889, he wrote the incidental music to Shylock, a play by the
French writer Edmond Haraucourt, based on Shakespeare’s The Merchant
of Venice. In 1898, he reversed the process, writing the incidental music
for a French-language play in London: Maurice Maeterlinck’s Pelléas
et Mélisande, which received its première on June 21 in the
Prince of Wales Theatre near Piccadilly Circus. (Originally, the English
actress, Mrs. Patrick Campbell, had asked Claude Debussy to compose the incidental
music, but he had refused as he was already working on his own opera based
on this play.) Although Fauré did not have much time, he still completed
the music well within the deadline, thanks to the help he received with the
orchestration from his pupil, Charles Koechlin. It was a great success and
Mrs. Patrick Campbell penned in her autobiography that Fauré “had
grasped with most tender inspiration the poetic purity that pervades and
envelops M. Maeterlinck’s lovely play”.The sounds of the gamelan
The 1889 World Exhibition turned Paris upside down. Not only was the colossal
steel construction built by Gustave Eiffel in the French capital received
with wonder and admiration, also the introduction to various Asian cultures
opened the eyes and ears of the French. Thus Maurice Ravel heard his first
Javanese gamelan, which inspired him to write the exotic Laideronnette, impératrice
des pagodes (a movement from his ballet Ma mère l’oye). His
early piano piece, Entre cloches, can also be considered an attempt to translate
the sound of the gamelan to the piano.
In 1904/1905, Ravel wrote La vallée des cloches, the last movement
of his piano cycle Miroirs. He imitated the sound of bells in this movement,
whereupon Stravinsky poked fun at him, calling him “l’horloger
suisse”. In this short work, he ‘positioned’ various bells
one above the another, each with its own pitch and rhythmic pattern, thereby
creating a complicated contrapuntal and harmonic sound texture. Although
Ravel himself declared that he had been inspired by the tolling of the bells
which can be heard in Paris around noon, the title and the serene middle
part suggest that the scene is set in the country.
In 1944, the Australian composer and pianist, Percy Grainger, wrote an arrangement
of La vallée des cloches, in which he attempted to imitate the sound
of the gamelan. He designated each of the various ‘layers’ in
the work to a different instrument: celesta, marimba, vibraphone, tubular
bells and piano (the strings of which to be struck by sticks). On the title
page of the score, the possibility of using a so-called ‘dulcitone’ is
also listed. This is a ship’s piano (now no longer in use), invented
and built in 1860 by Thomas Machell & Sons in Glasgow. The keyboard consists
of eight octaves and the instrument has felt hammers, which strike a series
of tuning forks. The instrument was still built up until the 1920s, after
which it was no longer made. Unfortunately, it was not possible to find a
dulcitone in good enough condition for this recording, so a decision was
made to use traditional percussion instruments.
“Yakov Kreizberg and his Dutch Orchestra play this French Music in
a splendid way and in the right French spirit. Highly recommended!”
--Bruno Peeters, Crescendo
“Both of the chestnuts here – the Afternoon of a Faun and the
Boléro – take on a fresh and more involving quality due not
only to the superb playing but the fine 5.0 channel sound reproduction.”
--John Sunier, Audiophile Audition
“PentaTone reproduces the delicate tones of celesta, marimba, vibraphone,
tubular bells and piano strings struck by sticks with exquisite immediacy,
making this a perfect SA-CD demonstration track when the demonstration is
about timbral fidelity rather than loudness or surround effects.”
--James Reel, Fanfare
“The Netherlands Philharmonic orchestra depicts in a subtle way the
light French spirit: colourful, virtuoso, and with a lot of attention for
detail. The recording is spacious without loosing the transparency which
is vital for this repertoire.”
Frits de Haan, Klassieke Zaken
“Pentatone offers an attractive collection of French music recorded
in the Yakuit Hall of "Beurs van Berlage" in Amsterdam, March 2004.
Conductor Yakov Kreizberg continues to impressive as one of the finer younger
conductors on the contemporary scene, and the Netherlands Philharmonic plays
very well.”
--Robert Benson, classicalcdreview
PTC 5186 058