Showing posts with label ravel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ravel. Show all posts

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Ravel: Piano Concerto in G Major

this has been my absolute favorite piano concerto for at least a year now, and i'm not sure anything will change that too soon. it is being performed here next week, and so i have written program notes for it. they are necessarily brief because of the nature of the concert, which involves a lot of selections, but actually halfway through writing them i just turned on the capslock and wrote, I FUCKING LOVE THIS CONCERTO AND YOU SHOULD JUST LISTEN TO IT BEFORE I RUIN IT WITH PALTRY WORDS. and that's how i feel. but this is my best effort at it.

and this is the only recording anyone in need of a recording should watch:
he gets a real grace and elegance and effortlessness, and all while looking like it takes no effort at all. of course, just for shock value, the recording of bernstein conducting this WHILE AT THE PIANO is also worth a gander. argerich also has a beautiful rendition.


One of two piano concerti Ravel composed, this dazzling jazz-influenced work premiered to long-lasting success in 1932, with Marguerite Long at the piano and Ravel himself conducting. Though it sparkles pianistically, its color and character derive in equal part from Ravel's distinctive use of the orchestra, which is as vital in this work as in any of his exclusively orchestral compositions.
The first movement opens with a single whip crack and a sprightly first subject presented by the winds above a light accompaniment and scintillating flourishes in the piano. Gradually the entire orchestra joins in the theme, until the piano emerges with a rhapsodic discourse, punctuated by blues figures from the winds; the second theme ascends, lyrical and more introverted, is introduced quietly by the piano. Syncopated accents characterize the motorlike return of opening material, and the exposition concludes with a flourishing cadenza that brings back material from the opening. The dreamlike development is a thoughtful extension upon the first theme, featuring string harmonics, a harp solo, and massive colorful outbursts from the orchestra. The second theme's development crests into the same motor of sixteenths which incessantly drives us forward to the boisterous, brassy descending scale that concludes the movement.
The transcendent second movement spotlights one of Ravel's most ethereal strokes of lyrical genius, and one of his most hard-won. The first subject, presented initially only by the solo piano, exists serenely for several minutes, until a solo flute breaks the reverie and allows the rest of the orchestra to enter. The second subject is darker and accompanied by dissonant rising chords in brass and winds, but retains the stately loveliness imparted by the incessant waltz-like chords in the solo piano. After a brief and lushly dissonant zenith, the first theme is brought back by an extended English horn solo, around which the piano flows gently and continually to a glowing close.
The third movement is a moto perpetuo, a tour de force by both soloist and orchestra. It opens with four explosive chords which recur throughout the movement, and features difficult solos for almost all the wind and brass instruments. The movement switches between a sixteenth-note running motor and a galloping triplet figure, and ends abruptly, with the same four chords that open the movement.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

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.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Ravel: Ma mere l'Oye, V. Le jardin feerique

feerique is fairy. so, the fairy garden.

this movement suffers all kind of abuse by being included in compilations of adagios and being played just as fully and lushly as possible. not that there's not a place for that in this gorgeous four minutes, but i think most will agree that the most magical are the pianissimo first twenty bars (and the moment at which the climax you want at 1:27 - a lot more yearning in the orchestral version - gets cut off by another pianissimo).

i don't think this movement requires any imagery besides that which he gives you in the title. it's such a rich image - a nighttime garden, which begins to glow softly with fairy light. he holds off the full glow for so long that by the time 2:49 comes you practically want to cry when you see that your hopes are actually going to be realized.

of course, those who have heard the orchestral version will yearn for the power and dynamic of the full orchestra. but i think there is something endearingly chordal about this piano version.

Ravel: IV. The Conversation of Beauty and the Beast

"When I think of your good heart, you do not seem so ugly." "Oh, I should say so! I have a good heart, but I am a monster." "There are many men who are more monstrous than you." "If I were witty I would pay you a great compliment to thank you, but I am only a beast."
"Beauty, would you like to be my wife?" "No, Beast!"
"I die happy because I have the pleasure of seeing you once again." "No, my dear Beast, you shall  not die. You shall live to become my husband." ... The Beast had disappeared, and she beheld at her feet a prince more handsom than Amor, who was thanking her for having lifted his spell.

this is the movement that taps into a story we all know. from ravel's description we can easily match up which parts of this conversation map to his quotes and characters. the lovely introductory melody represents the belle, and at 1:16 the low chromatic melody represents the beast (this is a contrabassoon in the orchestral version). clearly the first climax right after this around 2:00 is meant to be the first rejection.
i think in the original fairy tale the beast begins to die here of heartbreak (not like in disney with the angry mob and battering ram). i'm not sure i agree with the cartoon's interpretation, given the content association of the first climax (which is more or less the same, but less intense). i think that perhaps the second climax at 2:50 is meant to be when beauty realizes the beast is dying - and then realizes her affection for him.

the transformative moment after that is given to a violin solo with these really difficult harmonics, in the orchestral version. a cello enters afterwards with a much higher version of the beast theme - perhaps meant to be the beast after his transformation.

Ravel: Ma mere l'Oye, III. Laideronnette

"She undressed and got into the bath. Immediately the toy mandarins and mandarinesses began to sing and to play instruments. Some had theorbos made from walnut shells; some had viols made from almond shells; for the instruments had to be of a size appropriate to their own."

this is probably my favorite animation of the set.

the movement is formally complete, more than the two vignettes we just heard. it has a twinkling exposition full of little sixteenth note licks, and a middle section with a more sinuous melody (in the orchestral version played by a clarinet and accompanied by gong strikes). the recap is fantastic and ends the movement with a flash of brilliance.

i think this movement benefits the most from orchestration. though the piano can attain some of that spark and cleanliness, nothing can substitute for the color and pizzazz added by the celeste, percussion, string pizz and lush chords, and wind solos. i love ravel's use of the upper range here, clearly used to effect the miniature instruments. many oriental-affecting classical pieces have the tendency to saturate with pentatonic scale. ravel does this here, but has some interesting twists: listen at 1:59. gorgeous

Ravel: Ma mere l'Oye, II. Petit Poucet

in english: Tom Thumb, a little character in english folklore who gets in all sorts of trouble because of his size, which is about that of a thumb. (cool trivia: wiki says that this little fairy tale was the very first to be printed in english.) in this movement, he has left a trail of bread crumbs behind him so as not to get lost...


"He believed he'd easily find his way because of the bread that he'd strewn all along his path; but he was very surprised to find not a single crumb: the birds had come and eaten everything."
the music in this movement is easily evocative of directionless meandering owing to its inconsistent meter (6/4, 5/4, 4/4, 3/4 all included), and of a sort of miniature scale world owing to its scant orchestration. the tempo in this version is a bit brisker than i would like, but it does give that steady flow that's the most important thing in this movement.


at 1:59 you can hear the bird calls. the rising high notes are one, and the "cuckoo" afterwards is another. presumably these are the ones who have eaten his bread crumbs.


my favorite moment is the very last chord... the key is nebulous (probably c minor given the key signature, but the harmonies take it in a sort of whole-tone direction), but all of a sudden we end on a c major chord.

Ravel: Ma mere l'Oye, I. Pavane of the Sleeping Beauty

the french is too long to put in the title and fairly useless for those who read this anyway.

i'm trying to make a comeback on this blog after viewing the stats feature and seeing that sometimes folks from random other places (switzerland? australia, apparently??) land here. sorry for the leave.

true to form, ravel put this piece in three different forms and it's hard to find a recording of the version i know best, the "suite" of five orchestral pieces. i think it's best known in its original piano duo form, a fairly easy little set which he composed for two children of close friends of his (his second family, of sorts, after his father's death). the piano duo version was composed in 1910, and the year after he orchestrated it. in 1912 he added two new movements to the orchestral version, and this is usually the version that orchestras play and record today. anyway, today i cover the suite in its original form, which is obviously not quite as colorful as the orchestral format but lovely in its simplicity.

i could put a more illustrious recording up, but part of me has always been enamored of fantasia enough to have a long-held dream of continuing its vision of pairing animation with classical music. i don't think i would usually want to promote a single set of images over another, but ravel was pretty obvious when he named these pieces and inserted blurbs before every one that he wanted kids to be able to access these pieces through stories. (actually, he fails to insert blurbs before the first and last pieces. but the first one is so short and the last one so colorful that the music serves fine in these cases.) so this little animation exercise won me over immediately, and the playing is beautiful and simple.

the pavane of the sleeping beauty is a scant 20 bars in a minor, clocking in at less than two minutes. in the orchestral version the lines are carried by soft solo winds, and tiptoing pizz in the strings. the meter and form don't really follow the "pavane" technically, but there are two adjectives which typically get paired when talking about pavanes: slow and stately, which both describe this movement nicely.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Ravel: Sonata No. 2 for Violin and Piano, M. 77 - I. Allegretto

M stands for marcel marnat, who catalogued ravel's stuff.

this sonata was composed between 1923-1927, and is one of my favorite violin sonatas. friendly and sophisticated at the same time, it seems to have a lot of pull even with non classical listeners.

the reasons for its lengthy complicated birth period were things which plagued ravel from the end of WWI until the end of his life, including recurring illness and a creative block that only left in 1926. as a result the pre-war period for him was several times more productive than the last phase of his life from 1926 until 1937 (fifteen compositions versus fifty-six).

the main program note that usually accompanies this piece regards only the second movement which is noted for having some jazz/blues influence (it's quite unsubtly titled "blues"). this movement is indeed quite special and funky, but for me it's the outer movements which are so compelling.

analyses of ravel's music postwar usually stress his interest in making subtle and not-so-subtle references to the horrors of the war and his wish for it not to be repeated (see piano concerto for the left hand, which was written for the wittgenstein who had his right hand blown off in combat). some of this jazz inspired music is said to be a sort of homage to the american contribution to the war. this sonata is more abstract and seems to fall largely outside the scope of these more programmatic works. but it does reflect a lot of the changes in his musical language which took place directly after the war: "His attitude toward musical texture changes from lush and thick to spare and ascetic; his form names change from colorful to abstract, while his formal shapes turn a bit more unpredictable than heretofore; bitonality, harsh dissonance or unresolved friction, jazz sonorities, folk-like modalities, and all-but-incompatible metric interconnecting relationships increase exponentially in these later works." (this is a very good set of program notes on this piece.)

all of these are readily visible/audible in this violin sonata. it was first performed on may 30, 1927, with georges enesco on the violin and ravel at the piano.
two very different recordings. the first is monique haas at the piano, max rostal at the violin. i like this because of its plainness, which to me seems to adhere very closely to the nature of the work. the second is shlomo mintz and yefim bronfman. i expected this to be sort of lusher but eh.

the movement is meandering and dreamy, lots of asymmetrical phrases and bitonal chords. the meter keeps grounded in 6/8, but everything else seems to slide it around as if it were going to sort of take off any second. the tonality slides around constantly. after the opening theme the violin echoes the piano a fifth above, but then goes somewhere else entirely, from a tonal perspective.

i like how spare this writing is. it's totally clear and one can hear every note, but it boggles our musical instincts by not at all adhering to... well, anything, really. lots of augmented sevenths and ninths, things usually only found in jazz music - but the voicing is still off.
note the little inserted countermelodies starting at 1:11. these come back noticeably in the last movement. that plus the opening theme provide the grounds for the whole movement.
notable is how, while the violin and piano often trade off voicing melodic material, sometimes they go off in completely different directions.
development starts at 3:11.
there's a big climax with triplets in the violin. but the catharsis doesn't really come until quite a bit after that: the part i find most amazing is the "phrase" which begins directly after the triplets stop at 5:52. from then straight until 7:18 is the longest-spinning phrase ever. and it's not until 7:12 that we feel the relief of it ending.

ok, this entry was really difficult to write for some reason. O WELL SEE YOU TOMORROW