Debussy: Violin Sonata - Cello Sonata - Sonata for Flute, Alto and Harp

 It's not that Debussy has disappeared into the background. A few weeks ago we spent a day in Paris, visiting two exhibitions that throw an interesting light on the man and the city and culture in which he lived. At the Musée de l'Orangerie, a subsidiary of the Orsay museum, there is an elaborate exhibition on the relationship between Debussy and the visual and literary arts of his times ('Debussy. Musique et les Arts', running until June 11th). On display are a rich collection of works by painters such as Degas, Redon, Vuillard, Munch, Klimt, Turner, and many others. In addition: japanese prints and objects from Debussy's own collection, his writing desk, manuscripts, letters and notes. I didn't buy the catalogue as Jean-Michel Nectoux' Harmonie en Bleu et Or covers more or less the same terrain. Another exhibition is on display at the Musée Carnavalet, the museum of the history of the city of Paris. 240 prints by the Parisian photographer Eugène Atget cover the time frame (1880-1920) in which Debussy lived in the city. Fascinating to see how different and yet how similar the city presented itself. The street vendors, shops, bars, courtyards, marble statues etc we can easily picture in the contemporary city as well. Atget's provides a microscopic, highly textured view of the city. The great urbanistic movements (the vast increase in the number of cars, the construction of the metro, the improvement of sanitary infrastructure, the rise of good quality social housing etc.) are not captured by his lens.

In addition, I have been reading up on French history from the Franco-Prussian war onwards. Mary McAuliffe's Dawn of the Belle Epoque provides a disjointed but ultimately interesting narrative of the turbulent times of the war, the ensuing revolt of the Commune and the uneasy political and cultural climate that dominated the decades up to the First World War. At this point I'm reading Ian Ousby's impressive book on the battle of Verdun (where we were just a week ago) which frames this cataclysmic event in the political and cultural climate of the interwar years. All this underscores how complex and layered the setting is in which a composer such as Debussy emerged.

At the occasion of the 150th anniversary both Sony and DGG have issued attractive box collections that span a great swath of Debussy's oeuvre. I have just relistened to the three late sonatas which originally triggered my interest in this composer. In the DGG box, the Violin Sonata is performed by Augustin Dumay and Maria Joao Pires. It's an intensely romantic reading which is to my mind a little bit too polished. Isaac Stern, in the Sony collection, provides a startling contrast. He performs the music as a genuine 'war sonata' with a clenched teeth kind of fervor. Maybe just a touch of poetry would have been welcome to soften the hard, angular lines, but all in all it's a great reading that will count amongst my favourites. Let's not forget that 1916 was Debussy's 'annus horribilis': he was recovering from the surgery to cure his rectal cancer, causing him debilitating pain during the first months of the year. Meanwhile, the war was raging at its most blindly destructive (Germans unleashed the Verdun attack on February 21st 1916). And Debussy was struggling acutely with financial worries and a lack of elementary provisions (such as coal). The correspondence of those early months in 1916 reveal the difficulties with which Debussy wrestling and how close he must have been at times to killing himself. Stern's uncompromising reading seems to adequately reflect the deep despair of those days.

In the DGG Cello Sonata we hear Argerich and Maisky. I've heard this recording before and didn't like it. Indeed, it's a far too self-indulgent performance, particularly on the part of Maisky, who seems only intent on showcasing his capacity for expressive extravaganzas. To be avoided. Again, the recording in the Sony box is preferable (and in this case vastly so). Lynn Harrel and James Levine (on the piano) provide a rather soft-grained but very tasteful reading of the sonata. Maybe not a recording that raises eyebrows but I could imagine living with it.

Finally, there is the elusive Sonate en trio. Both collections provide us there with excellent readings, with the DGG ensemble (Wolfgang Schulz, Wolfram Christ, Margit-Anna Süss) capturing the dreamy atmosphere to perfection. In the Sony box it's James Galway who is taking the flute part, complemented by Marisa Robles on harp and Graham Oppenheimer on viola. Remarkably enough the booklet lists the sonata as being 'arranged and orchestrated by James Galway' and supported by the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. I can hear the orchestra clearly in the following Danse Sacrée and Danse Profane, but not in the Sonate en trio which seems to stick to the original.