Henri Dutilleux, Stravinsky, Ravel, Debussy : Phillippa Davies (flute), Marianne Thorsen (violin), Paul Watkins (cello), The Nash Ensemble, Yan-Pascal Tortelier (conductor) Wigmore Hall, London, 2. 4.2008 (AO)

Henri Dutilleux

It was a privilege to be in the Wigmore Hall on this very special occasion.  Henri Dutilleux had come from his home in Paris, to receive the rarely awarded Gold Medal of the Royal Philharmonic Society. It was introduced in 1870 to commemorate Beethoven’s centenary, but only four French composers have been honoured – Gounod, Messaien, Boulez and Dutilleux.  Dutilleux, who was born in 1916, is one of the great figures in 20^th century French music, yet what was special about this concert was that it was conducted by the son of Paul Tortelier.  As teenagers, Tortelier senior and Dutilleux had both studied at the  Paris Conservatoire and Yan-Pascal Tortelier has himself become a major champion and interpreter of Dutilleux’s music.  Indeed, after this recital, the composer himself said that it was one of the finest performances he’d ever heard of this work. Many British composers and musicians were in the audience, too, so the atmosphere was highly charged : this was a historic occasion few who were present will easily forget.

Dutilleux mentioned an occasion when he and Paul Tortelier scraped together enough money to attend a performance of Stravinsky’s Les Noces. So Stravinsky was honoured, too, in this recital with his Concerto in D for String Orchestra. It was a good choice, for this is fairly late Stravinsky (1946), contemporary with Dutilleux’s emergence as a composer. It’s also appropriate because Stravinsky is experimenting with wavering key colours, loosening strict form, so that the music seems to shimmer. The twelve member core of the Nash Ensemble was augmented by extra musicians and despite the larger forces, Tortelier shaped the elegant proportions so it danced.

Dutilleux’s Dyptique- Les Citations is an unusual combination for harpsichord, oboe, percussion and double bass. Britten had also used percussion and harpsichord together, and there’s a quote from Peter Grimes as the piece was initially written to honour Peter Pears. Nevertheless, Dyptique is distinctively Dutilleux however, written with extreme but precise economy. The double bass was added in 1991, darkening the resonances.  It quotes a passage from a piece for the organ written by Jehan Alain, a composer friend of Dutilleux, killed in battle in 1940. The oboe and double bass parts are so movingly written that in some ways the balance falls in their favour – especially when played by musicians of the calibre of Gareth Hulse and Duncan McTier.

Extremely high violins introduced Ainsi la nuit, infusing the static first section with gleaming brightness. Again, this is distinctive Dutilleux, with elegant, delicate patterns evolving and changing until the piece reaches its conclusion in another static section where sound seems to float.  Indeed, this section is actually called “suspended time”.  As to be expected the standard string quartet is Nash ensemble territory par excellence, so this performance seemed to choreograph itself, so much were the musicians in accord. The long arches seemed like stretch, the ostinato like en pointe.

The Royal Philharmonic Society may, remarkably, have omitted to honour Ravel and Debussy, but this concert gave them tribute with two small, but exquisite miniatures.  Ravel’s Sonata for violin and cello still sounds surprisingly modern.  Perhaps it is the sharp, angular patterns which echo Bartòk, perhaps the clean melodic line, but as played here, by Marianne Thornton and Paul Watkins, you can hear Ravel foreshadowing Dutilleux, simple forms evoking depth beyond themselves. Debussy’s Syrinx, for solo flute, distils in a few short minutes, concepts that seem to flow out across time and space.  The flute is an ancient instrument : often played on its own because its very solitude evokes contemplation.  It doesn’t need adornment.  Here, Philippa Davies played with gracious modulation.

After the concert, Dutilleux said that this performance of Mystère d’un Instant was the finest he had ever heard: quite a comment since it was written in 1989.  This version  however is a more recent revision, reducing the number of strings to 18 from 24.  Certainly,  there’s a feeling of space and light about this piece.  Tones seem to shimmer, wavering between extremes of register, and textures seem to evaporate before reforming.  What’s also interesting is Dutilleux’s composing rationale. Instead of  using a formal strategy, in each of the ten sections he seeks the “mystery of an instant”, captured spontaneously as the musical idea emerges.  Each section is an individual “snapshot” as Dutilleux calls it, like a Hockney collage perhaps, but animated and fluid.  There’s a part where four cellos interact, another where high, keening string lines evolve into a tumble of quick, spiralling notes on cimbalom.  A wayward drum rhythm unfolds to a jerky, pizzicato sequence on strings, itself superseded by a section where percussion and cimbalom lead.  Then the strings soared higher and higher and in came the tam tam beaten at measured intervals, exactly as it would be in an East Asian temple. Dutilleux's reference is explicit, though what it signifies in the wider scheme of things I can’t guess. But that’s why this music is interesting.  It may be neat and precise but it alludes to things beyond itself.

Anne Ozorio



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