It's not British, but...Mirrors and Echoes - Ravel and others

The advertising pitch explains that Aïda Lahlou’s debut album offers a striking reimagining of Ravel’s Miroirs, casting new light on its echoes across the global piano repertoire. By interweaving the Suite with overlooked miniatures from diverse traditions, she creates a dialogue that spans continents and centuries. The booklet suggests “[a] journey from innocence toward wisdom and self-actualisation.” I am not sure that this programmatic journey is essential to an enjoyment or appreciation of the music presented here. What is clear is that there are rarities by both well-known and less well-known composers.

The structure for this recital is Maurice Ravel’s well-known Miroirs (1904–05). This five-movement piano suite explores impressionistic and symbolic soundscapes. It was dedicated to members of Les Apaches, a group of avant-garde musicians, authors, and artists. Each piece evokes a vivid image: fluttering moths in Noctuelles, sorrowful birds in Oiseaux tristes, Mediterranean wavelets in Une barque sur l’océan, Iberian rhythms in Alborada del gracioso, and distant bells in La vallée des cloches.

Personal taste will provide a rationale as to whether Miroirs should be heard as a complete suite, or whether movements can be excerpted. Ravel did conceive it as a unified cycle: the outer movements were written after the inner three, suggesting a deliberate framing structure.

The recital opens with a remarkable Polonaise in C Major, op. 89 (1814) by Ludwig van Beethoven. The liner notes refer to it as “theatrical farcicality” – whereas Maurice Hinson, in his invaluable Guide to the Pianists Repertoire, suggests that it is “an interesting forerunner to Chopin’s essays on this dance form two decades later.” I enjoyed this bravura piece that is much more than a frivolous dance.

Armenian composer Alexandr Spendiaryan’s Esquisses de Crimée, op. 9 no.4 Air de danse ‘Kaïtarma’ (1903) is a folk inspired miniature that has a definite Asian resonance.

The present pianist has arranged a couple of numbers, the first being the second of Two Motets op.74 “Heiland, Reiß Die Himmel Auf” by Johannes Brahms dating from 1863/4. The booklet explains that the “vivid, water-based imagery…in which God’s grace is likened to a deluge, pre-empts the fluctuating oceanic shifts and overwhelming elemental power represented in Une barque sur l’océan.” Not sure I get the comparison here.

Polish composer Alexandre Tansman absorbed many influences including his compatriot Chopin, Impressionism, and Jazz. His Four Piano Moods, No. 1: Andante cantabile (1944) epitomises the neo-classical style with its urbane exposition and “gentle syncopation.”

Lancashire-born, Honorary Scot, Ronald Stevenson’s Three Scots Fairy Tales (1967) were written as pedagogical studies for children. Yet they are not dry as dust. Each Tale explores music made by a piper, a harpist, and a fiddler. The first, heard here, is a little march-cum-jig for ‘piper’ vacillates between these two forms. I wish Lahlou had recorded the other two.

Ernesto Lecuona was a Cuban born composer who inherited the Spanish musical idiom. He also wrote popular songs and jazz standards. The Andalucia Suite dating from the mid-twenties, evokes Iberian places. The two numbers heard are second and the last of the set, Andalucía, and Malagueña. They are worthy of Albeniz and Granados.

Gara Garayev is a new name to me. A student and friend of Shostakovich, he was leading Soviet composer. He fused Azerbaijani folk traditions with modernist techniques, across a wide range of genres including ballet, symphony, and film scores. The Prelude No.5 from his 24 Preludes is lugubrious and introspective.

There is no suggestion as to why the Kaddisch from Deux Mélodies hébraïques in an arrangement by Alexander Siloti (1914/1921) is included in this recital. This is a gloomy piece that does not inspire me.

The final track has no commentary in the liner notes. The internet tells me that Lamma Bada Yatathanna is an Arabic “belly-dance” song, which could be anything up to a thousand years old. It is heard here in an arrangement by Aïda Lahlou, which could easily have been written by several of the composers on this disk. It is very lovely and belies its original intention.

Born in Casablanca in 1998, Aïda Lahlou began piano at age five and won her first international competition at age eight. She studied at the Yehudi Menuhin School and later graduated from Cambridge and Guildhall. Lahlou has performed across Europe, North Africa, and Asia, including the Wigmore Hall and the Centre for Fine Arts in Brussels, and collaborated with artists Vadim Repin, Nicola Benedetti, and other high-profile performers. Her repertoire encompasses solo, chamber, and continuo work. She has also directed operas and engaged in environmental activism.

The recording is clean, well-balanced, and sensitive to every subtle detail.

The liner notes do not give any analysis or description of the music on this disc. Dates for most of the pieces are missing, which is disappointing.

Aïda Lahlou’s recital may be framed by Ravel’s Miroirs, but its true strength lies in the breadth and interest of its programming. Whether or not one subscribes to the suggested narrative, the selection of music offers a variety styles, cultures, and moods. Lahlou’s playing is consistently articulate and sensitive, and her arrangements reveal a thoughtful engagement with the repertoire.

Track Listing:

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) 

Polonaise in C Major, op. 89 (1814)
Alexander Spendiaryan (Spendiarov) (1871-1928)
Esquisses de Crimée, op. 9 no.4 Air de danse ‘Kaïtarma’ (1903)
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Miroirs, M.43 V. La vallée des cloches (1904–05)
Johannes Brahms (1833–1897), arr. Aïda Lahlou (b.1998)
2 Motets, op. 74, no. 2: O Heiland, reiß die Himmel auf (?1863/4)
Maurice Ravel
Miroirs, M.43 III. Une barque sur l'océan (1904–05)
Alexandre Tansman (1897-1986)
Four Piano Moods, No. 1: Andante cantabile (1944)
Maurice Ravel
Miroirs, M.43 7. II. Oiseaux tristes (1904–05)
Ronald Stevenson (1928-2015)
Three Scots Fairy Tales No. 1: What the Fairy Piper Told Me (1967)
Maurice Ravel
Miroirs, M.43I. Noctuelles (1904–05)
Ernesto Lecuona (1895-1963)
Andalucía: Malagueña (c.1923-28)
Gara Garayev (1918-1982)
24 Preludes: V. ‘Moderato’ (1952)
Maurice Ravel
Miroirs, M.43 IV. Alborada del gracioso (1904–05)
Ernesto Lecuona
Andalucía: Andalucía (c.1923-28)
Maurice Ravel, arr. Alexander Siloti (1863-1945)
Deux Mélodies hébraïques, M.22 No. 1: Kaddisch (1914/1922)
Traditional, arr. Aïda Lahlou
Lamma Bada Yatathanna (?)
Aïda Lahlou (piano)
rec. 8-9 June 2025, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth, UK.
Resonus Classics RES10368

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published. 

Ravel 150: The Complete Songs on Signum

Listeners of a certain vintage will have been introduced to the songs of Maurice Ravel by way of Gérard Souzay and Janet Baker. To be sure, neither of them issued a ‘complete’ edition, however, it allowed interested listeners to gain a great introduction to this varied repertoire. Until this new release from Signum, my go-to version was issued by EMI in 1984 (EMI Classics – 5 69299 2). This featured a star-studded cast including Felicity Lott, Teresa Berganza, and Jessie Norman. The piano was played on this album by Dalton Baldwin.

Many years ago, I discovered a good hermeneutic for appreciating Ravel’s vocal music in a remarkable study of the composer by Norman Demuth. He suggested that they can be divided into three “distinct” categories. The first are the Chansons or Mélodies – or art songs, with piano accompaniment. Secondly, settings of found tunes where Ravel provided the piano accompaniment and thirdly, there are a few “elaborate” pieces that are devised for voices and a selection of instruments.

Signum have featured a largely chronological order over two discs, which makes for an interesting exploration of this repertoire. I consider here what for me are the highlights, with a couple of thoughts about one or two numbers that do not work, at least for me.

Ravel’s best known song cycle is Shéhérazade (1903) which takes its inspiration from the Tales of the Arabian Nights. The cycle presents three numbers that conjure up the exotic, mysterious, and sensual qualities of the stories. Ravel has infused them with impressionistic harmonies and a flexible vocal line that points up the evocative lyrics devised by Tristan Klingsor. The first, Asie, looks at the wonders of the orient, the second, La flûte enchantée majors on a woman listening to her lover playing the flute, whilst in the last, L’indifferent, the female singer attempts to gain the interest of a young stranger only to discover that he is gay. The performance here is pure magic. Every nuance of the imaginative and highly charged texts is captured by Paula Murrihy and Malcolm Martineau but not forgetting the evocative flute playing of Lisa Friend.

The Histoires naturelles (1906) caused a considerable scandal at the first performance. It is just not what the audience were expecting. The setting of animal poems by Jules Renard, are complimented by Ravel’s “biting humour and sarcasm.” Flora and fauna explored include The Peacock, The Cricket, The Swan, The Kingfisher, and The Guinea-hen. The vocal technique is typically declamation or conversational speech rather than a conventional singing style. The piano part is demanding with various onomatopoeic figurations such as the chirruping of the cricket and hints of Olivier Messiaen evoking the kingfisher. Baritone Simon Keenlyside gives a stunning performance of this most important offering from Maurice Ravel.

Turning to the folksong settings. The 5 Mélodies populaires grecques (1904-06) were based on anonymous texts translated from the Greek into French by Michel Dimitri Calvocoressi. Here Ravel combines simplicity with elegance, preserving the folk character through modal melodies and creating redolent textures. Also included on this album is the posthumously discovered 6^th Greek folksong, Tripatos (three steps).

The Chants populaires date from 1909-10. Here he set several texts: Spanish, French, Italian, Hebraic, Scottish. Being a Scot, my favourite is Rabbie Burns’s Ye Banks and Braes! Magically, Ravel has caught the traditions and regional characteristics of these songs, applying his own distinctive modernist touch.

The first of the 2 Mélodies hébraïques (1914) seems to be like a liturgical chant rather than a song. The second, although enjoying a rhythmic ostinato in the piano, is spoilt by a vocal line with too many “Tra la las.”

Finally, the Chansons madécasses (1925-26) was a commission from the American philanthropist and patron of the arts, Elizabeth Spraque Coolidge. They include flute, cello, and piano accompaniments as this is what was stipulated. The texts were translations of original Madagascan verse. These tropical songs evoke tender love music, an aggressive war chant which caused a near riot at its premiere, and a sultry vesperal. Ravel’s outstanding lyrical imagination is reflected in Julie Boulianne’s performance.

Stéphane Mallarmé (1842–1898) was a French Symbolist poet whose works profoundly influenced modern literature and art. Known for his intricate, evocative language, Mallarmé explored themes of beauty, mystery, and the abstract. His innovative poem L'Après-midi d'un faune, inspired Claude Debussy’s early masterpiece. Ravel composed his 3 Poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé in 1913, and dedicated them to Igor Stravinsky, Florent Schmitt and Erik Satie, respectively. These poems are hardly straightforward in French or English translation. The liner notes explain that Soupir is a “melancholy poem about autumn,” Placet futile “portrays a lovelorn abbot, who regrets that he will never appear naked on a Sevre teacup and will never become the princess’s lapdog, let alone her lover” and finally, Surgi de la croupe et du bond, a strange meditation on an empty vase that will never contain flowers.  Enigmatic these songs may be, but what is not in doubt is the sheer beauty of Ravel’s setting. Mallarme’s elusive imagery is matched with innovative harmonies and flowing vocal lines. An ethereal, other worldly atmosphere is created by Julie Boulianne and the chamber musicians.

The last three songs on this album were also Ravel’s final major composition. Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (1932-33) was originally slated to have been included in a commission for a score for a film exploring the life of the eponymous hero. They were to have been sung by the legendary bass Chaliapin. Sadly, Ravel did not submit them in time and was denied payment. The film company used the services of Jacques Ibert.

Ravel’s songs present a different facet of Cervantes’s knight’s character. Off beat rhythms and a guitar like accompaniment infuse the Chanson Romanesque. The following Chanson épique” with its austere nods to modal melodies and organ like harmonies, may reflect Don Quixote’s chivalric commitment. Finally, the more down to earth Chanson à boire displays strong cross-rhythms and hints at the jota, a Spanish courtship dance revealing the mortal desires of drink and sex. The entire cycle makes a fitting close to Ravel’s career.

Other mélodies that caught my ear include the early Sainte (1896) with its extensive use of seventh and ninth chords, the rhythmically diverse Epigrammes de Clément Marot (1896-99) and the late and valedictory Rêves (1927). Finally, there is an excellent account of Vocalise-étude en forme de habanera (1907), full of Spanish (by way of Cuba) sunshine and anguish.

Interestingly, the new recording does not include the once popular Fascination written for Paulette Darty. There has been debate as to whether Ravel or Fermo Dante Marchetti penned this number. But it would have been fun to have included it here.

The liner notes devised by Richard Stokes, provides the listener with sufficient detail to appreciate these varied songs. The texts are given alongside a parallel English translation. Resumes of the singers and pianist are included. The cover for this 150th anniversary release is boring.

It would be invidious to pick out the “best” performance from this “bumper roster” of artists. The palm must, however, go to the pianist Malcolm Martineau who is busy for most of this album. It was a brilliant idea to have used such a wide range of talent, rather than just rely on one or two singers. Each bring their considerable talents to this repertoire, which is characterised by, as David Cox once wrote, “clarity, fastidiousness, wit, harmonic richness, and melodic subtlety.”

Track Listing:
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
CD1
Ballade de la reine morte d'aimer (c.1894)
Un grand sommeil noir (1895)
Sainte (1896)
Epigrammes de Clément Marot (1896-99)
Chanson du rouet (1898)
Si morne! (1898)
Manteau de fleurs (1903)
Shéhérazade (1903)
5 Mélodies populaires grecques (1904-6)
Noël des jouets (1905)
Histoires naturelles (1906)
CD2
Vocalise-étude en forme de habanera (1907)
Les grands vents venus d'outre-mer (1906)
Sur l'herbe (1907)
Tripatos (1909)
Chants populaires (1909-10)
3 Poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé (1913)
2 Mélodies hébraïques (1914)
Trois chansons (1914-15)
Ronsard à son âme (1924)
Chansons madécasses (1925-26)
Rêves (1927)
Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (1932-33)
Lorna Anderson (soprano), Julie Boulianne (mezzo-soprano), John Chest (baritone), Sarah Dufresne (soprano), Dafydd Jones (tenor), Simon Keenlyside (baritone), Paula Murrihy (soprano); Nicky Spence (tenor), William Thomas (bass), Anna Stokes (flute), Julian Bliss (clarinet), Matt Glendening (clarinet), Cara Berridge (cello), Sacconi Quartet, Malcolm Martineau (piano)
rec. 2018-2024 Various Locations 

Signum Classics SIGCD870

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published. 

It's not British, but...Maurice Ravel's Piano Music on Danacord Vol.3

This is the final instalment of Oleg Marshev’s authoritative three disc account of the complete solo piano music of Maurice Ravel. I include it  here as part of the Ravel 150 celebrations. 

The title Valses nobles et sentimentales alludes to Franz Schubert’s two sets of dances from the 1820s, Valses nobles D969 and Valse sentimentales D799. As Ravel said, that signalled “clearly enough my intention to write a chain of valses in the style of Schubert”. The score was prefaced by a quotation from the French symbolist poet, Henri de Regnier: “…le plaisir délicieux et toujours nouveau d’une occupation inutile” (…the delectable and always novel delight of a useless pursuit).

In contrast with the high virtuosity of the 1908 Gaspard de la nuit, the cleaner style of the Valses emphasised harmonies and brought them into focus. That does not make these eight waltzes easy. The liner notes say that Ravel may also have been inspired by the “discovery of Liszt’s Valse caprice after Schubert and his Soirées de Vienne”’, and there are echoes of Johann Strauss II in the fourth and seventh number. This is simply a series of seven sparkling waltzes with an epilogue which seductively reprises previously heard tunes.

Le Tombeau de Couperin (The Tomb of Couperin) was a wartime work completed by 1917, after Ravel had been demobilised. He described it as “a tribute not so much to Couperin himself as to Eighteenth Century French music in general”. The movement titles are like those Couperin and his contemporaries used.

Despite its milieu, this collection is neither sad nor elegiac. The fast-flowing Prelude has relentless semiquaver triplets and interpolated mordents. In the Fugue, less inspiring, the voices unfold gently. It has been described as static but Oleg Marshev makes it as magical as possible. The appealing but over-long Forlane in 6/8 time has dotted rhythms, innovative ornamentation and reflective harmonies. A bright and breezy Rigaudon balances a chromatic middle section with more diatonic opening and closing paragraphs. Minuet, according to the liner notes, is “a piece of fairy-princess, Mother Goose escapism” offset by a primitive “musette” which hints at the Dies irae from the Requiem Mass. The Toccata looks back to the opening Prelude with its virtuosic figurations. Each movement was dedicated to the memory a friend killed in the fighting.

À la manière de Chabrier and À la manière de Borodine commemorate two composers whom Ravel had always admired. The Chabrier is a paraphrase of the Flower Song from Gounod’s Faust. It has been described as “astonishingly faithful” and as a “mimicry”. The Borodin presents a waltz “loosely based on themes from the Russian’s Petite Suite and the scherzo from his String Quartet No.3. It is a little more serious in temper with “flowing, colourful harmonies.”

Not all commentators have been enthusiastic. Norman Demuth wondered “why [Ravel] parodied Chabrier by means of a paraphrase of a song from Gounod’s Faust” and that in sum, both pieces are “utterly useless”. They are played here without condescension.

The short Prélude was a sight-reading exercise for a competition at the Paris Conservatoire. It was dedicated to the winner, Jeanne Leleu. For such a tiny number, it has a great depth of sadness, and there are a few technical snags to overcome.

I have always felt uneasy listening to La Valse – be it the orchestral or the piano version. The heading of the score reads: “Through the swirling clouds waltzing couples may be seen. One by one the clouds vanish; a huge ballroom filled by a circling mass is revealed […]”. Even so, I find it menacing. This “symphonic waltz” has many of the stylistic feature of its model, the Viennese waltz. The one thing that it lacks is the gaiety. Is this a celebration or is it a parody? Does Ravel intend to deconstruct the form and suggest the downbeat mood of post-war Vienna? The fierce climax of La Valse is a million miles away from the vivacity of a ballroom in the Second Empire. The whirling motions of the dancers leads to death and annihilation. There is much in these pages that is beguiling and even beautiful, but it seems to me that Ravel has destroyed the Viennese waltz for ever. The piano solo version, extremely successful, demands a virtuoso technique. It gets a stunning rendition here.

There is nothing wrong with the Fugue in B flat major. (It was Ravel’s entry in the 1902 Prix de Rome, unpublished until 2009, when it appeared as an appendix in Stephen Zank’s Irony and Sound: The Music of Maurice Ravel.) Such academic exercises demands an airing from time to time. I just would not have make it the last track on the last disc in this cycle. Perhaps the wonderful Le Tombeau de Couperin should have brought the proceedings to a conclusion.

The recording is at times a little bright and hard-edged. Peter Quantrill’s liner notes (from which I have quoted, with thanks) give helpful information about all the pieces except the Fugue. There is a recap of Oleg Marshev’s career; more details can be found here.

Once again, I must comment on the less-than-flattering cover photograph. It feels sinister and does nothing to compliment this fine recital and the highly imaginative repertoire. I have not included it in this post.

The excellent performance captures all the nuances of Ravel’s pianism which encompasses impressionism, romanticism and the work of the French clavecinists. Marshev consistently uncovers the excitement, the beauty and the formal structures of this music.

Track Listing:
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Valses nobles et sentimentales (1911)
Le Tombeau de Couperin (1914-1917)
À la manière de Chabrier (1912-1913)
À la manière de Borodine (1912-1193)
La Valse (1920)
Prélude (1913)
Fugue in B flat major (1902)
Oleg Marshev (piano)
rec. 2023, Cultural Institute, Milan, Italy
Danacord DACOCD905

 

 

It's not British, but...Maurice Ravel's Piano Music on Danacord Vol.2

This is the second of the three volume edition of the complete solo piano music of French composer Maurice Ravel performed by Oleg Marshev. I include it  here as part of the Ravel 150 celebrations. 

Although I have written the track listings above, as reproduced in the liner notes, there is a slight problem with nomenclature. In 1912, Maurice Ravel finished his massive balletic Daphne and Chloé, a “symphonie chorégraphique,” for orchestra and wordless chorus. It was premiered in Paris on 8 June 1912 by Diaghilev’s Russian Ballet. At around the same time, Ravel extracted material to make two orchestral suites: Fragments symphoniques de ‘Daphnis et Chloé’ I (Nocturne, Interlude and Danse guerrière), 1911, commonly called Suite No. 1 and Fragments symphoniques de ‘Daphnis et Chloé’ II (Lever du jour, Pantomime and Danse générale), 1913, or Suite No. 2. These remain popular to this day.

What Oleg Marshev has recorded here is, in fact, a piano suite assembled by Ravel in 1913, from the piano reduction score of the entire ballet. The full title is Daphnis et Chloe: Fragments symphoniques and was published by Durand and Co. in 1912. It consists of three movements, Danse de Daphnis, Nocturne, Interlude and Danse guerrière, and the finale, Scène de Daphnis et Chloé. I pulled the score to follow the performance, and apart from a few embellishments, Marshev plays it precisely, giving a satisfying and attractive account. Of course, there could be another edition of this transcription around that I was unable to locate. There are some amazing Ravelian sonorities in these pages that display both technical wizardry and a deeper classical reticence. It is an important addition to the catalogue.

Some four years separate Ravel’s impressionistic Jeux d’eau (1901) from his Sonatine (1903-05). The two works could not be more different. James Gibb (Keyboard Music, ed. Denis Mathews, Pelican,1972) has suggested that this latter piece “turned away from purely sensuous washes of sound and rediscovered economic textures and the stricter shapes of sonata form.” That said, the Sonatine is no simple exercise in neo-classicism. The opening Modéré is romantic, the Minuet is full of exquisite charm, and the last movement, a toccata, displays “sensual energy” and “nostalgic sighs.” Marshev infuses his playing with passion in the opening movement, warmth in the second and dazzling brilliancy in the technical complexities of the finale.

The year 1909 was fallow for Ravel. The only work from around this time is the Menuet sur le nom d’Haydn, written to commemorate the centenary of the elder composer’s death. The “theme” is based on a translation into musical pitches of the name Haydn – B-A-D-D-G – which requires a little alphabetical manipulation. This motto theme appears 11 times, heard in retrograde and inversion. Typically, a wistful and unassuming number, it is a little unbalanced between the simplicity of the opening measures and the “more involved and overladen” second page.

Ravel’s piano masterpiece, the suite Gaspard de la Nuit was first performed in Paris, on 9 January 1909 by Ricardo Viñes. This cruel and terrible work was inspired by the prose-poems of Aloysius Bertrand. Wikipedia explains that the word Gaspard is derived from the Persian and implies "the man in charge of the royal treasures". So by implication he is the guardian of the things of the night, the very Devil himself...

The opening movement, Ondine, is justifiably the most popular, with its evocation of the watery domain of this beautiful siren, drawing men to their inevitable doom. The second, Le Gibet, is a disturbing portrait of the gallows. Scarbo, the finale, represents a scary, diabolic creature conjured up from the deepest recesses of the mind.

Any performance must reflect the callous seductiveness of Ondine, the hopeless tread of the very static march to the scaffold, with its insistent pedal note and finally, the sheer malevolent-ness of the creature conjured up in the final movement. The listener ought to be unsettled and even scared by this work. I believe that Marshev does invest Gaspard de la Nuit with sufficient cruelty and fear to make this an ideal performance.

Sadly, no details (only an oblique reference) in the liner notes are given about the two fugues. I managed to find out that the Fugue in E flat major was probably penned in 1900 and is based on a subject by the French composer, organist and music teacher, Theodore Dubois. The Fugue in D major was written for that year’s Prix de Rome. Both are classically balanced, and although the listener would not guess the composer with an innocent ear, they are anything but pedantic in their impact. I understand that Oleg Marshev has realised the original four stave scores for pianoforte.

Typically, the booklet notes are helpful and of interest. I noted the omission of a commentary on the Fugues above. It would have helped if the dates of each piece were given in the track listing. For Gaspard de la Nuit it is not provided in the booklet text.

I do wish that Danacord could have featured a more fetching cover photograph for this superb recording project: the sinister portrait of Marshev does not do justice to either the repertoire or to the performance. I have not used it in this post.

This second volume is of great interest to all Ravelians. My big discovery here was the many faceted Daphne et Chloe: Fragments symphoniques. Splendid performances of Gaspard de la Nuit and the Sonatine make this an exciting and rewarding disc. 

Track Listing:
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Danse gracieuse et légère de Daphnis (1909-12)
Fragments Symphoniques (1909-12)
Scène de Daphnis et Chloé (1909-12)
Sonatine (1903-05)
Menuet sur le nom d’Haydn (1910)
Gaspard de la nuit (1908)
Fugue in E flat major (1900)
Fugue in D major (1900)
Oleg Marshev (piano)
rec. September 2022, Cultural Institute, Milan, Italy
DANACORD DACOCD 904
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

It's not British, but...Ravel's Orchestral Transcriptions on Danacord

This enriching CD platforms a selection of Maurice Ravel’s orchestrations of his piano compositions, alongside the Rapsodie Espagnole.

Le Tombeau de Couperin was composed as a suite for solo piano, between 1914 and 1917. Ravel insisted that it was “a tribute not so much to Couperin himself as to Eighteenth Century French music in general.” Originally, there were six movements: Prélude, Fugue, Forlane, Rigaudon, Menuet, and Toccata. All were dedicated to friends who had been killed during the First World War. Two years later, Ravel orchestrated four of them, omitting the Fugue and Toccata. The typically serene and charming Prélude sets the scene for the entire Suite. Yet, even here, there is occasionally a slight edge to its progress. The Forlane is playful and may remind the listener of an ‘antique’ dance, from an earlier generation of French composers. Ravel pays homage to classicism in the graceful Minuet. Finally, a folk dance, seen through twentieth century eyes, underlies the lively and rhythmic Rigaudon. The Suite is given a delightfully cool performance by the Aarhus SO.

Maurice Ravel provided a rich orchestral arrangement of his piano suite, the Valses nobles et sentimentales, dating from 1911-12. Ravel wrote that it was “clearly enough my intention to write a chain of valses in the style of Schubert.” He had been inspired by Franz Schubert’s Valses nobles (D.969) (1827) and his Valses sentimentales (D.779) (1823-4). It is possible that he was also motivated by his encounter with Franz Liszt’s Valse caprice after Schubert and his Soirées de Vienne as well as nods to Johann Strauss II. There are eight waltzes in this Suite, each with its own character and atmosphere, with contrasting moods, pace, and rhythmic variation, but always subject to the 3/4 time signature.

The only composition on this disc that was originally written for orchestra is the Rapsodie Espagnole (1907-08). Like Bizet, Chabrier and Debussy, Ravel paints an evocative picture of the Iberian Peninsula and its musical traditions. There are four movements. The sultry, shimmering, Prélude à la nuit (très modéré) is followed by a vibrant dance from the Malaga region complete with castanets and Basque drum. Then there is a slow, smoky Habanera (assez lent et d’un rythme las). The Rapsodie closes with the festive Feria (assez animé) which paints a riotous fairground image. The impact of this piece is abetted by its masterful orchestration.

The ubiquitous Pavane pour une infante défunte originated as a piano solo in 1899 and was later orchestrated by Ravel in 1910. This lovely number evokes a sense of melancholy with its elegant melody and delicate textures. Despite the picturesque title alluding to an unnamed member of Spanish royalty, Ravel insisted that he “simply liked the sound of these words and I put them there, c’est tout.”

Interestingly, it was dedicated to the Princesse Edmond de Polignac (Winnaretta Singer) who was a contemporary patron of the arts and heiress of the Singer Sewing Machine fortune.

Une barque sur l’océan is the third section of Ravel’s Miroirs. Originally devised for solo piano in 1904-05, it was orchestrated the following year. The liner notes explain that “[Ravel] paints the movement of the boat with the theme initially presented by the flute” however the “tres souple de rythme” gives the composer much scope to portray the “unpredictable swell of the ocean.”

It is hard to imagine a better “impression of a very blue Mediterranean, with just a hint of a breeze stirring up wavelets.”

The Aarhus Symphony orchestra is based in the eponymous second largest Danish city, in the eastern part of the country. It was established in 1935. Since 1982 it has performed most of its concerts at the Musikhuset in the city centre. The sixty-five players also engage in chamber music recitals, take part in school concerts, and support the Danish National Opera.

Danacord explains that French classical conductor Marc Soustrot, who is currently Chief Conductor of the Aarhus SO, has extensive expertise in major works from the classical and Romantic repertoire. His interpretations of French orchestral compositions are particularly noted. Soustrot served as the director of the Orchestre Philharmoinique des Pays de la Loire from 1976 to 1994 and later as the Generalmusikdirektor of the Beethoven Orchester, Bonn from 1995 until 2003. His first album for the Danacord label was a disc of Georges Bizet’s music including the Symphony in C Major; Carmen Suite No. 1; L'Arlésienne Suites Nos. 1 and 2. (DACOCD 775, 2016). It was reviewed here, and here.

This disc offers a delightful listening experience with a great recording, comprehensive documentation, and excellent performances. It serves as a wonderful primer to some of Maurice Ravel’s essential orchestrations.

Track Listing
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Le Tombeau de Couperin (1914-17, orch.1919)
Valses nobles et sentimentales (1911, orch.1912)
Rapsodie Espagnole (1907)
Un barque sur l’océan (1904-05, orch.1906)
Pavane pour un enfant défunte (1899, orch.1910)
Aarhus Symphony Orchestra/Marc Soustrot
rec. 22-26 May 2023, Symphonic Hall, Aarhus, Denmark
Danacord DACOCD 982

Maurice Ravel: Jeux D’eau for piano played by Martha Argerich.

I was first introduced to Maurice Ravel’s sparkling piano piece ‘Jeux D’eau’ with a performance by Martha Argerich. This recording had been made as far back as 1960. I did not realise at that time that this was her début album. It was released by Deutsche Grammophon the following year (SLPM 138 672). The other works on this LP were the great Scherzo no.3 in C sharp minor, op.39 by Frederic Chopin, Johannes Brahms’s Rhapsodies, op.79, no, 1 in B minor and no, 2 in G minor, Sergei Prokofiev’s’ Toccata, op.11 and Franz Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody, no.6. It was a splendid introduction to romantic and modernist music. But it was the impressionistic ‘Jeux D’eau’ that impressed me most.

I had borrowed this now rather tatty album from Coatbridge High School music library. I guess that I had heard precious little Ravel in those days during the very early 1970s. Perhaps his beautiful, but hackneyed, Pavane pour une infante défunte had crossed my path.  I was bewitched by Argerich’s playing then and have been a fan ever since.

It was ‘Jeux D’eau’ along with Debussy’s La Mer that made me a lifelong enthusiast of all things musically impressionistic.

This piece was dedicated to Ravel’s teacher Gabriel Faure.  It was likely to have been inspired by Franz Liszt’s ‘Les Jeux d’eaux à la Villa d'Este’ (The Fountains of the Villa d'Este) in F♯ major from the Troisième année of the Années de pèlerinage (1877).  Despite the influence of Debussy on Ravel, it must be recalled that the elder composer had yet to write his largely impressionistic piano pieces by 1901 when ‘Jeux D’eau’ was first heard. Estampes and Images were not written until 1903 and 1905-12 respectively. If anything, Debussy studied ‘Jeux D’eau’ and seemingly learnt much from it. This perusal would later result in the evocative ‘Reflets dans l ‘eau.’

The score was headed with a quotation from Henri de Régnier (1864-1936): ‘Dieu fluvial riant de l’eau qui le chatouille’ – the river god laughing at the water that tickles him. Despite the river god ascription, the image behind this piece is the goddess Latona sitting naked atop of a ‘wedding cake’ fountain sculpture at Versailles.

Ravel wrote about this piece, ‘In ‘Jeux D’eau’ can be found the origins of all the pianistic innovations that people notice in my works. The piece was inspired by the sound of water, of fountains, waterfalls and streams. It is built on the two motives of a sonata form movement, without, however, conforming to the classical scheme of tonality.’ Despite this loosely classical formal scheme, the overall impression to the listener is of ‘cascading arpeggios.’

‘Jeux D’eau’ was received its first public performance in 1902, by the Catalan pianist Ricardo Vines on 5 April. It had been heard in private previously.        

The American High-Fidelity Magazine (May 1962) gave a rave review of this new album. Harris Goldsmith begins his essay by suggesting that ‘Even if Miss Argerich never makes another record [she subsequently made dozens] the present disc will offer evidence that she is one of the leading technicians of our era. Furthermore, she is revealed as a possessor of an original temperament, fine musical taste, and rhythmic finesse…’ Of the present ‘Jeux D’eau’ he says only that ‘it has plenty of dash and brilliance, but also a ravishing translucency.’

I looked up the contemporary review in The Gramophone (January 1963). It was mixed and I guess a little patronising. Stephen Plaistow’s overall contention was that in a few years’ time, she may play this recital twice as well. He was impressed by ‘the range of colour in Ravel’s ‘Jeux D’eau’, where she makes the river god laugh with a thoroughly authentic sound.’  Alas the Brahms and the Chopin suffered from ‘feminine waywardness.’ He closes his review by stating that he ‘can at least be enthusiastic about the quality of the recording: in stereo it is outstanding.’ He did appreciate the ‘bravura thrills’ of the Prokofiev and the Liszt.

I listened to the CD re-release of this album whilst musing in this post. I found the Brahms and the Chopin perfectly acceptable and well-wrought. Argerich’s take on Brahms is to play the two rhapsodies ‘caressingly’ and without the thickness of texture sometimes given to these pieces.  The Chopin is a mercurial performance that showcases the ‘scherzando’ mood of the piece. It is not expansive and broad like Artur Rubenstein or Van Cliburn’s interpretation. I still think the Prokofiev Toccata is one of the best performances of this work I have heard.

Martha Argerich’s 1961 performance of ‘Jeux D’eau’ is posted on YouTube. Equally fascinating is a video of her 1977 recital, where she makes the piece look so ‘easy.’ Finally, it is interesting to watch the piece played with the score. This is played by Jean-Yves Thibaudet.