donderdag 3 november 2011

Ravel: Alborada del gracioso, La Valse - Debussy: Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faun, Nocturnes

I have some catching up to do. Trouble is I'm getting so circumspect in writing about my listening impressions that it takes ages to get it down on paper. Mr. Debussy himself has turned into a sirene that is hypnotising me! These days I'm obsessed by music, although I have precious little time to listen. But it's all whirling around in my head. In an ideal world I could start to listen and read and ponder and hypothesise for days or weeks on end. I've been reading up on Debussy and the more I learn the deeper the fascination gets. But I can't. I don't have the time. Professional obligations are eating me up. So I am staying hungry.

Yesterday I listened to two pieces by Ravel. Superb recordings by Karajan and the Orchestre de Paris, back in 1971, which were buried in that gargantuan EMI collection that appeared just a few years ago on the occasion of the maestro's 100th birthday. La Valse is gorgeous, with orchestral textures smooth as silk and hard as a bone, a mesmerising whirlpool of velvety shadows and blazes of light, collapsing in an appropriately manic finale. The Alborado is very fine too, delicate, even understated, with again those blinding flashes when Karajan whips up the tutti into a frenzy. The recordings captured in the Salle Wagram are full-bodied and clear as a bell.

Then back to Debussy. Van Beinum's Nocturnes with the Concertgebouw Orchestra are the finest I have heard up to now. Particularly the Nuages are captivating with such a delicacy and expressiveness in the phrasing; a most translucent sfumato is envelopping the music. No idea how they did it. The Fêtes is very accomplished but blends more into mainstream interpretations. The fanfare, however, is most beautifully done, with the trumpets positioned at just the right distance. The Sirènes then are extraordinary, as skittishly seductive as you will find them. All in all a beautiful reading. I look forward to La Mer (stereo) and the Images (mono) on the same disc (from the Australian Eloquence series).

I have been listening to the Prélude too: 6 versions and counting. I can't say there has been a really bad experience amongst them. I love Paul Paray with the 1950s Detroit SO (on LP). A quick and tempestuous reading that looks ahead at the marine expanses of La Mer. But timingwise (it clocks in at just over 8 minutes) it is very much in the spirit of the classic recordings by conductors who were Debussy's contemporaries: Monteux, Gui, Pierné and Ingelbreght. All of them hover between 8 and just over 9 minutes. Compare this to Haitink and Tilson Thomas who are a full 2 to 3 minutes slower! Haitink's reading is majestic and, though slow, superbly paced. MTT is good but sounds more anecdotal to me. Karajan (with the Berlin PO, 1977, on EMI) is maybe the most architectural of all. He seems to shape the archlike movement most convincingly. Then there is Jean Martinon with the ORTF Orchestra (on LP) taped in the mid-1970s: a very disciplined and taut reading that seems to connect with the spirit of Paray and the classics. Finally another athletic approach from Saraste with the Rotterdam PO which I thought was one of the lesser inspiring.

It's amazing how approachable this music is and yet, when you start to look up some analyses, it appears that nobody is able to explain how it really works. In it's bare 10 minutes (upon which Debussy spent almost a year's work) the composer throws a most intricate puzzle in the face of musicologists, an organically morphing mosaic of themes and harmonic building blocks that eludes formal analysis.

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