Music cannot be learned (Claude Debussy) 
          A
           film by Georges Gachot, produced by 
          Metropolitan Munich, 2000 [57.59] 
          
Children’s Corner played by Zoltán Kocsis (piano) 
          rec.1991 [17.38] 
          This documentary includes 3 language versions (English, German, French) 
          
          Picture format DVD: NTSC 16:9 
          Sound formats DVD: PCM Stereo 
          Region code: 0 
          Languages: English, French, German 
          Booklet notes: English, French, German 
          
EUROARTS 2066718 
[74.00]
 
        
         From time immemorial - certainly since the days 
          of Plutarch and Suetonius - biographies have been basically divisible 
          into two types. There is the hagiography, treating its subject as a 
          quasi-saint whose every instinct is impeccably right and who can do 
          no wrong; and there is the hatchet job, putting the worst possible construction 
          on every aspect of the subject’s actions and thoughts. Studies 
          which ostensibly take a more balanced view are nevertheless frequently 
          watered-down versions of one sort or the other. Documentaries on the 
          lives of composers inevitably fall into the same two categories. Some 
          authors have vehemently doubted whether the study of the life of an 
          artist of any description actually sheds any light at all on their works. 
          Tolkien was notoriously one such, and the multitude of studies and biographies 
          which have followed on his death simply go to show how misguided he 
          was. 
            
          This documentary by Georges Gachot on the life of Debussy basically 
          falls into the class of the hagiography, typified by the inclusion of 
          Ravel’s remark that Prélude à l’après-midi 
          d’un faune was the “only perfect piece in all music”. 
          It takes its title from a saying of Debussy, which can be taken either 
          as a truism - music is a natural instinct rather than an acquired one 
          - or as palpable nonsense for if it is taken literally, what is the 
          point of ‘studying’ music at all? A documentary which took 
          this assertion as its starting point might have been a very interesting 
          - and possibly profitable - examination of the nature of musical inspiration 
          itself. Here we are simply asked to accept the contentious statement 
          as fact, as an element in a brief overview of Debussy’s life. 
          Over half of the documentary itself is spent looking at Debussy’s 
          origins and early career - before the success of Pelléas et 
          Mélisande - and no more than the last six minutes looking 
          at his final years after La mer where his music began to explore 
          the more remote territories of tonality. We are told nothing whatsoever 
          about Jeux, or the late chamber works, or Le Martyre de Saint-Sébastien. 
            
          
          It is described as a ‘film’ but much of the visual element 
          comprises still photographs, with occasional inserts of period films. 
          The presence of the completed Sacré-Coeur in the shots of Montmartre 
          confirm that these probably postdate Debussy’s death. Add to this 
          some modern videoscapes of Paris which say nothing about Debussy at 
          all. Thankfully, there are no interpolated shots of actors pretending 
          to be Debussy or any of his contemporaries, so it is not a ‘biopic’ 
          type of film. It is simply a brief overview of Debussy’s career 
          illustrated with excerpts from some of his earlier scores. Most of the 
          dialogue is provided by reminiscences of Debussy by his friends and 
          colleagues, with some sections drawn from the composer’s own letters. 
          Unfortunately we are only occasionally told whose words we are listening 
          to, until the final credits reveal this information; it would have been 
          more interesting and illuminating if screen credits had been given at 
          the time the quotations started - as we are told when listening 
          to the opinions of Satie and Stravinsky, for example. The documentary 
          was originally shot with German commentary, but the French and English 
          versions substitute narrations by different actors which sound fine 
          since at no stage are any of the speakers shown on screen. The exception 
          is Manuel Rosenthal, whose French words are given with subtitles. 
            
          The musical excerpts are fine, given by the likes of Eugene Ormandy, 
          Sergiu Celibidache (a stunningly slow and beautiful Prélude 
          à l’après-midi d’un faune), Sviatoslav 
          Richter (surprisingly reading from a score), Zoltán Kocsis and 
          excerpts from Peter Stein’s Welsh National Opera production of 
          Pelléas (uncredited until the end, and with no details 
          given of the singers involved). There’s also a piano roll made 
          by Debussy himself. No subtitles are provided for the Pelléas 
          excerpts, which renders them effectively meaningless. Interestingly, 
          we are given the text of part of the Mallarmé poem which inspired 
          the Prélude. As a bonus to the documentary we have a complete 
          performance of Children’s Corner by Zoltán Kocsis. 
          This is not the Philips award-winning recording but what appears to 
          be a television transmission - and very good it is too. 
            
          The booklet notes by Janina Rinck make some big claims for what is puzzlingly 
          described as “this first documentary film about Debussy” 
          - surely not? These state that the film “devotes itself to [the] 
          question of Debussy’s identity.” Sadly, it hardly begins 
          to scratch the surface of that issue. At first one suspects the translation, 
          but the original French seems to make the same claims. As an introduction 
          to the music of Debussy for those unfamiliar with the composer’s 
          life and work, it would be a valuable asset. As an exploration of Debussy’s 
          whole ethos it leaves too much ground unexplored. During the 
          documentary Stravinsky quotes Debussy’s words to him about The 
          Firebird: “One has to begin somewhere”. This film is 
          similarly a beginning, not an end. 
            
          Paul Corfield Godfrey