Debussy: Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune (Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun)

Debussy's ten-minute tone poem for orchestra takes its inspiration from the eponymous poem by Stephane Mallarme, and was meant to be the prelude to a ballet choreographed by Valery Nijinsky. Though the ballet is rarely performed, Debussy's prelude has proven to be nothing short of one of the most important watershed works in modern music history. Ambiguous in its meter, capricious in tonality, and full of the impressionistic colors which were Debussy's unique legacy, the prelude is a loose montage of scenes from a torpid afternoon in which the mythical faun vainly pursues a pair of elusive wood nymphs. He reaches them only in a sensual, dream-filled slumber in which he is united with them and nature. The language in both the textual and musical poems is suffused in light, unrealized passion, and vivid languor.

The famous opening flute solo is representative of the faun, who plays his pan-pipe in the woods. From the beginning our sense of tonality is tricked and tricked again, as the flute oscillates between the two notes of a tritone; the melody hints briefly at E-major, but then the orchestra enters in B-flat major, the most unexpected key possible. There is a silent bar as the music seems to ponder this turn of events, before trying again. Wandering interjections from horns and harp wreathe the flute, padded by soft strings. The harmonies wander, but every time it seems to be reaching a point of arrival, of realization or resolution, the goal shifts or evaporates altogether.

With the entrance of a solo clarinet and muttering celli, the shadows of the nymphs appear, and the consequent pursuit and flight are shown by fleeting, unresolved scales, muted brass, and tantalizing pizzicati. As the music grows more animated and passionate, the orchestration grows lush and colorful, but the sweetest moments are also the most hushed and delicate, undulating just underneath the surface. This is the ethereal world that persists to the end of the piece, drifting in between enchanted yearning and fleeting luxuriousness. And what to make of the resolution: clear, unambiguous E Major, a certainty which has eluded us the entire piece? The faun escapes to sleep, forsaking his pursuit, but realizes his desires in the other world of slumber: “Farewell to you... I go to see the shadow you have become.”

Poulenc: Aubade, concerto choregraphique for piano and 18 instruments

Youtube has four very decent recordings of this piece (possibly more, but these were my highlights)

Claire-Marie Le Guay with Christophe Mangou and the Orchestre Nationale d'lle de France. I like this one because aside from being very well executed, it's a video and you can see (sort of) the unusual instrumentation and the configuration, which is one that Poulenc includes himself in the score of the piece.
Sviatoslav Richter
Pascal Roge
Jacques Fevrier

I. Toccata (Lento e pesante - Molto animato)
II. Récitatif: Les compagnes de Diane (Larghetto)
III. Rondeau (Allegro) - Entrée de Diane (Piu mosso)
IV. Toilette de Diane (Presto)
V. Récitatif: Introduction à la Variation de Diane (Larghetto)
VI. Andante: Variation de Diane (Andante con moto - Animer - Emporté)
VII. Allegro feroce: Désespoir de Diane
VIII. Conclusion: Adieux et depart de Diane (Adagio - Più mosso)

Poulenc's 1929 Aubade was written for and financed by the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Noailles, the latter of who was one of 20th-century Paris's most forward-thinking and visible arts patrons. Its unusual instrumentation - it is one of a fairly exclusive group of orchestral concert pieces that does not include violins - is a result of the ensemble that was budgeted for the fete given the evening of the premiere at the Noailles' mansion on June 18th, 1929.
Poulenc was a master of compositional balance, toeing the line between levity and depth, clarity and richness. This piece, now known more or less as Poulenc's first piano concerto, was originally conceived as ballet music and was premiered with choreography by Bronislava Nijinska (George Balanchine choreographed the public premiere some months later). It chronicles the story of the Diana, Roman goddess of the hunt and of chastity. The action of the ballet depicts her anguished struggle with her fate-decreed bonds of abstinence; its name refers to a Middle Age piece played or sung outdoors at dawn, and references the fact that the plot here begins at daybreak and ends at dawn one day later. While the Aubade has since become exclusively a concert piece - in fact, Poulenc cautions performers and audiences not to overcredit the programmatic aspect of this piece - it is still evident that Diana's plight of solitude informs the character and emotional shape of this piece.
The Aubade opens with a stark brass fanfare, and the first of the eight short segments (which are performed without pause) consists mostly of a frenzied solo piano cadenza channeling Diana's distress and loneliness, at odds with her eternal chastity. The orchestra's reentrance signals the awakening of Diana's companions, and the music is at first grim and foreboding but then slides into a graceful rondo, with the piano stating each subject and theme before ceding it to the orchestra. Diana's entrance at the Piu mosso is marked by a brightening of timbres and quickening of pace. The third segment, marked Presto, is a merry, quick and lively depiction of the companions as they dress Diana for her day, and its pert ending marks the conclusion of the first half of the piece.
The following Recitatif is more solemn, beginning with dissonant flourishes from the bassoons and oboes, and marked by firm dotted rhythms. Diana is handed a hunting bow, upon which she proceeds to dance alone in a lovely but resigned Andante introduced by solo clarinet and flute. The end of this dance is marked by a pale oscillation in the flutes, a foreshadowing of the ending. The penultimate movement, Diana's despair, is a furious and fierce outburst. It is over as suddenly as it began, however, and in the end succumbs to bleakness and loneliness. The clarinets give a flurry of protest, but in the end, a lonely solo cello line leads us to the austere coda, which features a stern brass statement overlain by a seemingly neverending series of A-minor oscillations in the upper winds and solo piano. Eventually these, too, recede into the unelaborate ending of a single low A piano strike.

Copland: Appalachian Spring

I performed this piece last semester with the chamber orchestra at my school. This was the nicest recording of it I found at the time - a good conductorless version with really great wind soloists.

Here are the program notes I wrote for it at the time, including Copland's own description of the eight segments.

Composed under commission in 1944, the "Ballet for Martha" lacked a name until just before the premiere, when choreographer Martha Graham chose the title from a poem called "The Dance" by American author Hart Crane. In truth, the name bears virtually no relation to the music or the ballet, causing Copland much amusement when he repeatedly received comments about the music's power to evoke the scenery of
mountains in spring. However, regardless what imagery this music may conjure in one's mind, the harmonic language is unmistakeably American, and it won Copland the Pulitzer Prize in Music in 1945. That same year, Copland rearranged the ballet music into an orchestral suite which retained most of the original music.

The suite is a continuous twenty-three minutes, and was originally scored for a chamber ensemble featuring thirteen instruments: flute, clarinet, bassoon, piano, and one desk each of the string family members (except the single double bass). He would subsequently score a version of the suite for full orchestra, which is more frequently performed. Copland also authorized the chamber version to be performed with an expanded string section, which is the version performed here today.

The action of the ballet features a pair of pioneers celebrating their newly-built farmhouse in Pennsylvania and their upcoming marriage. They are visited by various neighbors and advisors, and experience the spectrum of emotions that come with starting a new life in an unfamiliar place. After phases of both joy and uncertainty, in
the end the couple stands ready to face their new life with quiet courage.

The eight sections of the suite proceed thusly (text in quotation marks indicates Copland's own prose):
1. "Very Slowly. Introduction of the characters, one by one, in a suffused light." This serene section features gentle solos over an ever-present A Major tonality.
2. "Fast. Sudden burst of unison strings in A major arpeggios stars the action. A sentiment both elated and religious gives the keynote to this scene." Copland indicates "vigoroso" for this bright and lively tune, which later becomes superimposed upon a more expansive string texture. 2:38 in the video.
3. "Moderate. Duo for the Bride and her Intended--scene of tenderness and passion." This section is introduced by a lilting irregular rhythmic figure, which then dissolves into more intimate and expressive but muted sonorities in far-off keys. 5:25
4. "Quite Fast. The Revivalist and his flock. Folksy feelings--suggestions of square dances and country fiddlers." This section is sprightly and dancelike, depicting the exuberance of the spiritual revivalists. This eventually crests into an eloquent and grandiose statement, leaving a pronounced impression on the protagonists, who quietly reflect on these themes. 8:43
5. "Still Faster. Solo dance of the Bride--presentiment of motherhood. Extremes of joy and fear and wonder." After an irregular transitional section, the following presto is a sort of moto perpetuo, featuring highly syncopated tunes above a neverending tattoo of eighth notes. But with an abrupt silence the music lurches into a more deliberate, firm tempo, cadencing with a firm resolve in C Major. 12:08
6. "Very Slowly (as at first). Transition scenes reminiscent of the introduction." The music here is very similar to that of the slow introduction, but set in A-flat Major, a half-step lower, perhaps illustrating the mellowing effects of maturity and experience. 15:05
7. "Calm and Flowing. Scenes of daily activity for the Bride and her farmer-husband. There are five variations on a Shaker theme... sung by a solo clarinet..." This well-known hymn, otherwise known as "Simple Gifts," becomes more and more elaborate and excitable with every variation, until the final iteration, which is stated in glorious and dignified fashion. 17:06
8. "Moderate. Coda. The Bride takes her place among her neighbors. At the end the couple are left 'quiet and strong in their new house.' Muted strings intone a hushed, prayerlike passage. The close is reminiscent of the opening music." 20:12

I had a lot of fun working on this piece, but it was a huge nut to crack on four rehearsals' time. you can check out some of my performance here if you wish.

Ravel: Daphnis et Chloé, Suite No. 2

this piece is consolidated into one post because a) its movements don't divide well as they are played attacca and b) as component parts of a much larger composition, it doesn't really make sense to divide them up anyway.

this has some weird tempi changes/relationships but overall i think achieves the clarity that ravel had in mind. this is a version performed without the optional wordless choir. i have to say, i like the (relative) spareness of the version without the choir, but they do have some great chords and lines that are only really implied by the rest of the orchestration (though there are "instrumental alternatives" written in the orchestral parts).


the full ballet was premiered in June 1912 by Diaghilev's Ballets Russes conducted by Pierre Monteux. the context is interesting because not even a year before that debussy premiered his prelude to the afternoon of a faun, and stravinsky's firebird and petrouchka were both premiered during the three years it took Ravel to produce and orchestrate Daphnis et Chloé. though it was, strictly speaking, "ballet music," ravel called daphnis a “choreographic symphony in three parts.” suite no. 2 represents the final third, comprising three movements which chronicle the reunion of the two young lovers after Chloe's kidnapping at the hands of pirates; their dramatic tribute to the god Pan, who was responsible for Chloe's rescue; and the Bacchanalian celebration that follows.

orchestrationally, Ravel is at his very best in this suite, which has become the most-performed version of this music since the relatively lukewarm reception to the full ballet (and maybe the most-performed orchestral work of his, period). he uses a huge orchestra:
flutes, alto flute, piccolo, oboes, english horn, clarinets, e-flat, bass clarinet, (three!) bassoons, contrabassoon
four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba
two harps, celesta
and a huge bevy of percussion instruments: timpani, cymbals, bass drum, field drum, snare drum, castanets, tambourine, glock.
and of course the wordless SATB choir.

Program notes follow:
The suite begins with daybreak (Lever du jour), and Ravel paints a luminous picture of a sacred grove with a brook represented by murmuring winds, harps, celeste, and strings, along with birdcalls from piccolo and solo violins. Soon daylight breaks and luscious melodies are passed throughout the orchestra, as the two title characters are reunited amid lush harmonies. The second movement, Pantomime, is remarkable for its extended, meandering wind solos. The transformation is ushered in by a solo oboe which calls a halt to the undulating figures in the winds and strings. A shepherd explains to Daphnis and Chloé that if Pan has saved Chloé, it is in honor of his doomed love for the beloved Syrinx. Daphnis and Chloé begin the reenactment of Pan and Syrinx's love story. Their dance is marked by fluid rhythms, elastic and languid tempi, and a famously difficult flute solo depicting Syrinx (who was transformed into a reed pipe, placing her forever out of reach). The music swings abruptly from mood to mood, now tenderly hesitant, then playfully flirtatious, then sweepingly grandiose – but throughout it retains a note of wistfulness, ultimately unfulfilled. The movement concludes with a broad and brilliant statement by the trumpets.
The unmistakable commencement of the post-drama celebration (Danse générale) is marked by a switch to a whirling meter in five. A motor of running triplets alternates throughout the orchestra, punctuated by bright interjections from trumpets and soprano clarinet. The music begins at a portentous distance but soon swells to a wild, volatile celebration, with subito soft moments followed by explosive outbursts. These increase steadily in intensity and frequency to build to a thrilling conclusion.

i find this entire suite totally compelling. i love ravel. there is something that i find so intuitive about his (initially) most non-intuitive stuff - his sense of rhythm when he mixes meters and gives offbeats to everyone else, his weird hesitations in the middle of phrases, the pressez fowards. ravel is awesome.

Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring

this is almost definitely not what you think it is considering the general arc of this blog, but i am having difficulty letting myself explore music that isn't the music i'm supposed to be preparing, so here you get something a little different. below is a written guide to all the non-italian (and some rarer italian) written-language instructions you find in stravinsky's masterpiece score, in the order they first appear in the score, usually with some indication as to where. it's surprising to me that there isn't a list out there already for this, but maybe my googling skills just aren't that great. you certainly find them all over the place for mahler and strauss. i'm not sure of some of the longer ones, so if you find any discrepancies leave a note. maybe this will help the next aspiring conductor trying to learn this piece. and since for some reason this piece seems to now be a total favorite for people to assign during mere graduate school auditions, there will probably be (or already are) a lot of people running around like myself trying to learn this piece when by all rights we have no place attempting it.




colla parte: with the soloist (as directed to the clarinets and horns accompanying the bassoon solo in the beginning)
un peu en dehors: a little outside, maybe slightly more extraverted (as to the piccolo clarinet that enters in the fifth bar, among other places)
très en dehors: very prominent
flatterzunge: fluttertongue
come sopra: as above/before
per tutto quat.: all four (when there is a part divided into four, etc., followed by some instruction, in this case, a crescendo)
tube tenori/ tenori: wagner tubas
cuivrez: brassy (literally, copper), when he wants a sound brash and shiny
très lointain: vert distant, as for the horn soli at 89
accordèz la corde do en si: adjust/tune the string to play, as for the 2nd cello solo at 91 which has to play a d-sharp harmonic
pavillons en l'air: bells up! for the horns
colla bacch. di ______: with the sticks of (some instrument). lots of directions to play one instrument with the mallets/sticks of another. when it appears with [triangolo] it is usually telling you to run the triangle's stick over the surface of the gong, giving it a zzzzzing. when it appears with [tamburo] or [timp.] which both mean drum, use the according mallet to strike as normal. apparently tamburo usually refers to the snare drum, so it would seem that while doesn't need the snare drum for this whole monster of a piece, you still need the sticks...
au bord: on the rim, meaning to play where the sound is drier, on the rim of the timpani (as at 114)
tres serrè: very tight, as with the repeated violin notes at 134
bouchè: mouth. he writes this for the horns three times, just around 137-8. honestly, your guess is as good as mine.
ouvert: open (as for the sustained notes at 138)
avec la baguette en boin: with the stick (as for the bass drum at 139, meaning to flip the mallet around and play with the wood end instead of the covered end)
ordinairement (avec la mailloche[...]): as normal; directive about two bars later, signaling to flip the mallet back around. apparently the covered end of the stick is called a "beetle" (mailloche) in french... um.
des cordez le "la" un demi-ton plus bas: the A string tuned a half-step lower, as for the celli in order to play the four note chord at the very end of the piece which includes a g-sharp as the high note. i don't think anyone actually does this. the celli have like a bar in order to try to fix their strings like this.