Charles Bordes was a conservatory student of César Franck,
who when thinking of his pupils considered him the equal of Duparc.
Bordes was an organist but became well-known for his investigations
into traditional Basque song - a pursuit which permeated his compositions.
He did write instrumental music, but it was largely limited to the
years 1886-1891, and indeed the complete piano compositions, the Caprice
à cinq temps and Fantaisie rhythmique, date from
these years. Above all it is for his songs that he has survived
on the fringes of the Franco-Belgian repertoire, and it was to Verlaine
that he looked for his primary poetic inspiration. Almost half of
his surviving 33 songs set Verlaine.
The songs are fluent, generously lyrical and feature a good balance
between questions of vocal line and pianistic inflexion. The urgent
declamation of Épithalame, for example, is made the
more so by virtue of the idiomatic piano writing and its evocative
postlude. The postlude in Promenade sentimentale is notably
mysterious. Bordes was certainly not averse to matching Verliane’s
intensity with a passionate vein of his own, something exemplified
in the setting sung by baritone Jean-Sébastien Bou, Sur
un veil air. The music also touches on the pensive and conditional
in the case of Soleils couchants as well as the ghostly and
grief-laden in Chanson d’automne. Triste, ô triste
conveys an ethos of taut melancholia whilst L’Heure du berger
seems to strike a rather Fauréan note. Dansons la gigue
heavily and deliberately quotes The Keel Row, an unusual undertaking.
Mention of Fauré might suggest an affinity, but there is something
quite sturdily self-confident about Bordes’ writing that never
really takes it in that direction. It must also be noted that there
is sometimes a lack of that memorable true melodic quality in some
of his settings. The earliest settings are also a little diffuse,
but this was something soon rectified.
The piano music is delightful. I wish he’d written more. I find
it more captivating than the songs, largely because of Bordes’
delightful evocation of Basque music - in Caprice à cinq
temps - and because of the consistently ear-titillating rhythmic
zest he cultivates in the four Fantaisie rhythmique. These
are interspersed throughout the programme, arranged like little interludes
that break up the songs. The first is a zortico, full of panache
and zing, whilst the second is irregular and teasing. No.3 enshrines
a degree of Franckian chromaticism, whilst the cleverest of the quartet
is the last, a brilliant virtuoso exercise more than deserving a place
on the encore list of pianists worldwide.
The performances are loyal and effective. The best of the three musicians
is pianist François-René Duchâble who plays the
piano cycle wonderfully well and is a most sensitive accompanist to
both Sophie Marin-Degor and Jean-Sébastien Bou. Bordes is far
more neglected on disc than, say, Cras, de Séverac or Pierné.
Indeed this first volume of his songs is hardly reflective of a musical
personality as different and in some ways exploratory as theirs. His
is a more modest voice, but it’s attractive and, in the case
of the piano music, exciting.
Jonathan Woolf
Track listing
Caprice à cinq temps, for piano (1889) [5:30]
Le Son du cor (1888-1896) [2:35]
Promenade matinale (1897) [3:38]
Paysage vert (1894) [1:41]
Épithalame (1888) [3:22]
Sur un veil air (1895) [3:03]
La Bonne Chanson (1889) [2:14]
Fantaisie rhythmique, for piano (1891) Nos. 1 [2:37]: II [1:30]: III
[2:48]: IV [3:44]
Soleils couchants [3:05]
Chanson d’automne [1:45]
L’Heure du berger [3:52]
Promenade sentimentale [3:42]
Spleen (1886) [1:59]
Triste, ô triste (1886) [1:56]
Colloque sentimental (1884) [5:05]
Ô mes morts tristement nombreux [5:36]
La Ronde des prisonniers [5:17]
Dansons la gigue [2:39]
