When Pathé-EMI recorded this
well nigh comprehensive Debussy set
in 1973 and 1974 little did they think
that the resulting tapes would have
had such a long and productive shelf-life.
Their investment must have been repaid
many times over. Certainly they have
been reissued and repackaged in numerous
permutations over the years. The most
recent was as an 8 CD EMI Classics box
(CZS 5 75526 2) also including the four
Ravel discs recorded by Martinon (but
with the Orchestre de Paris) at the
same time. Originally the Ravel and
Debussy sets appeared in two substantial
and opulently decadent HMV SLS boxes
(Ravel SLS 5016 and Debussy SLS 893;
5 LPs in each). If I recall correctly
each was adorned with a Bakst canvas
- one of which was of Nijinsky as Debussy's
faun.
Here the Debussy recordings
put in their most economical and elegantly
utilitarian appearance yet - presumably
the Ravel-Martinon set is to follow.
Their intrinsic artistic and technical
faculties are completely uncompromised
although the packaging is spartan. The
convenience of this single package at
much less than Naxos price is only vied
with by its many artistic delights.
Martinon's Debussy
is joyously liberated. Atmosphere and
the recreation of front-to-back and
left-to-right depth continues to work
as well as on the original black discs.
Of course these were performances taken
down onto analogue stock yet aside from
a subtle unassertive tape hiss, only
audible when you drive the loudspeakers
really hard, there are no grating results
and nothing approaching distortion.
Martinon was born in
1910 in Lyon. He studied in his home
city and in Paris - latterly with d'Indy
and Roussel. He played the violin in
the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra. After
further studies at the Sorbonne he worked
with Munch and Désormière.
In the Second World War he served with
the French Army and was taken prisoner
in 1940, spending two years in a POW camp.
He escaped from the camp three times.
While in captivity he wrote a symphony
(the first of five), a motet Absolve
domine in memory of French musicians
who died in the war and a setting of
Psalm 136 which became known
as Chants des Captifs. Release
in 1943 saw him appointed conductor
of the Bordeaux orchestra and then,
as assistant to Munch at the Paris Conservatoire
Orchestra. He was principal conductor
of the ORTF Orchestra from 1968 until
his death. We tend to forget that the
present recordings were made within
a couple of years of Martinon's death
in 1976 though there is no sign of a
falling off in insight or energy.
Martinon's elegance
and sound technique were a byword in
the profession. His interpretations
are strong on clarity. He was mild of
temperament and was not inclined to
dive into the sort of blazing rows so
relished by some conductors. His spell
(1963-68) with the Chicago Symphony
(immediately after the tyrannical Fritz
Reiner) was unhappy. Martinon was split
between factions including the antipathetic
critic of the Chicago Tribune, Claudia
Cassidy. He was relieved to leave and
to return to the congenial locale of
the Paris Orchestra and the ORTF. Martinon
came to regret that he was so strongly
associated with French music rather
as Boult and Handley have been so tightly
bound up with English music. Martinon
hankered to conduct Mahler but death
intervened.
The Debussy and Ravel
recordings are from Martinon's finest
legacy. In them he shows a poignant
mastery of pulse and orchestral balance;
the latter especially important in the
case of Debussy who can otherwise sound
muddy. He directs an exciting La
mer. In De l’aube at 08.38
the crashing climax illustrates the
racing drama of this reading. Listen
also to the priapic Scriabin-like trumpet
at 00.51 in Dialogue du vent.
I have heard sharper rhythmic drive
in other hands but Martinon conjures
a telling effect for his Nocturnes.
The choir in Sirènes sounds
almost casual rather than idyllic. Martinon’s
Prélude a l'après midi
d’un faune has the blood oozing
through the veins. The warm flute of
Alain Marion is a large part of the
honeyed mesmeric quality Martinon achieves.
The last time I heard something like
this was in Serge Baudo’s Supraphon
LP collection. Marche écossaise
is a jolly oddity like the oddball march
of a Scottish regiment complete with
drone bagpipe imitation. The Lear
music was written for André Antoine's
production. Its long tragic march has
Gabrieli-like trumpet and trombone ‘collisions’
and a generally troubled atmosphere.
This carries over into Berceuse héroïque
which is pregnant with the sort of foreboding
found in Miaskovsky’s Seventh and Tenth
symphonies.
Jeux was somewhat
eclipsed at its premiere by Stravinsky’s
Rite of Spring. It contains echoes
of Dukas’s L’Apprenti sorcier.
Martinon is much more striking in Images.
His Gigues has delicacy and balance.
Note the orotund brass in Par Les
Rues Et Par Les Chemins. Parfums
is somnolent and in Le matin
d’un jour de fête one is aware
of the careful balancing of dynamics.
The fuzzy Printemps is rather
under-powered. We rediscover freshness
in Children's Corner with the
captivating charm of Serenade for
the Doll and the Charlot shuffle
of Golliwog’s Cakewalk. In Petite
Suite which is superlative light
music the lovely En Bateau is
taken quite quickly. I ‘learnt’ Danse
sacrée et danse profane from
the recording by Paul Kuentz with the
harpist Nicanor Zabaleta and although
I recall that version as being closely
recorded this one with the equally famous
Jamet is similarly numinous - a recording
of ineffable rapture. The Caplet orchestrated
Boîte à Joujoux
is memorable for the delicious dissonances
of La Bergerie à vendre.
The last of the four
discs has the three concertante works
and three other pieces. In the low key
Fantaisie, an early work of easy
whirling flourishing caprice, Ciccolini
makes a sensitive soloist, but no concerto
high jinks. The Premiere rhapsodie
was a 1910 test piece for the Conservatoire
and sketches out Debussy’s mature qualities
in microcosm. The saxophone Rapsodie
was a commissioned work which was taken
from first draft (as far as Debussy
got!) and orchestrated - and more -
by Jean Roger-Ducasse (1873-1954). These
works are pleasant listening but are
not terribly memorable.
La Plus Que Lente
shows signs of central European
gypsy style and is otherwise rather
like Valse Triste. Khamma,
an exotic ballet, was commissioned by
Maud Allen in 1912. The story is of
the dancing girl who sacrifices herself
to save her city. It was orchestrated
by Koechlin who at various times in
his career had a weakness for oriental
and middle-eastern fantasy; Les Heures
Persanes is one of his best works.
To bring us roundedly to the end we
have the lively Tarantelle Styrienne
which was orchestrated by Ravel.
The booklet has the
same full notes as the EMI CZS set from
James Harding and these are in English
only. The fold-out light card wallet
holds each CD in its own card sleeve.
The detailed track contents are listed
only on these sleeves.
As a single cornerstone
to your collection which you might leave
as the only Debussy entry for years
you can hardly better this.
What we now await are
further licensed boxes of the complete
orchestral music by Ravel, Fauré
and Saint-Saëns. Is it too much
to hope that this series will also eventually
include the Nielsen orchestral works
with Blomstedt and the Danish Radio
Symphony Orchestra?
Martinon, though he
considered himself hobbled by his reputation
as a Gallic specialist, makes a very
strong showing indeed. Not only is this
set of compelling artistic attraction
it is kind to the bank balance and also
takes up only a couple of centimetres
of shelf space. The works are all opulently
recorded, not especially analytical,
but conveying the illusion of lifelike
sound and palpable immediacy. At super-bargain
price you need look no further; a gift
that will cast its smiling spell for
years to come.
Rob Barnett
Orchestre National de l’ORTF/Jean Martinon
(Debussy) 
