Claude DEBUSSY (1862 - 1918)
Complete Orchestral Music Vol.5
La boîte à joujoux - orch. André Caplet. (1913) [32:44]
Six épigraphes antiques - orch. Ernest Ansermet (1914) [17:54]
Estampes No.1: Pagodes - orch. André Caplet (1903) [ 5:37]
Estampes No.2: La soireé dans Grenade - orch Paul-Henri Büsser
(1903) [5:54]
L’isle joyeuse - orch. Bernardino Molinari (1904) [6:56]
Le triomphe de Bacchus - orch. and arr. Marius-François Gaillard (1882)
[3:38]
Orchestre National de Lyon/Jun Märkl
rec. Auditorium de Lyon, France: 27-28 March 2009 (Pagodes); 11-14 January
2010 (La boîte, Six épigraphes, La soireé); 24-27 February
2010 (Le triomphe)
NAXOS 8.572568 [73:04]
With my shelves groaning with oceans of La Mers and a month-of-Sundays-worth
of Nocturnes I have to admit that I had not rushed out to sample the
series of orchestral works by Debussy from Jun Märkl and his Orchestre
National de Lyon. Hence the series has reached volume five before I dip my
toe. Most series of Debussy’s orchestral music seem to take about four
well-filled discs, Naxos will certainly reach at least a sixth volume by adding
to the usual body of works some lesser known orchestrations and juvenilia.
Given that I included a set of similar orchestrations - Colin Matthews’
extraordinarily fine re-conceiving of the complete Piano Preludes -
as one of my discs of the year, it is no surprise that my interest has been
piqued by this volume.
Even the major work on this disc is a relative rarity. La boîte à
joujoux has never captured popular imagination in the way many of Debussy’s
other works have. It always comes as something of a surprise what a big work
relatively it is. Although sub-divided into four tableaux framed by a prelude
and an epilogue it plays for nearly thirty-three minutes continuously. This
makes it longer than Jeux, La Mer, or Nocturnes, even the total
of the three parts of the orchestral Images (which are five separate
movements) is only just a little more. In recording terms it is not particularly
rare, trawling back through the catalogue throws up several versions none
of which seem to last too long before deletion. The exception is the early
1970s version by Jean Martinon and the Orchestre National de I’O.R.T.F.
which seems to have resurfaced in numerous guises over the decades and still
sounds remarkably well. The problem, if problem it is, for this work is one
of scale relative to content/narrative. Keith Anderson’s typically informative
liner-note gives the most detailed synopsis of the ballet that I have read
and while not vital at all to one’s enjoyment of the work it does allow
the listener to follow the storyline in some detail, from the magical awakening
of the toys through the courtship of the soldier and the doll to their ultimate
‘old age’. Debussy dedicated the work - as he had the earlier
Children’s Corner Suite - to his daughter Emma-Claude nicknamed
Chou-Chou. So there is no doubting the sincerity or pleasure he took in its
creation however it has a knowing sophistication about it that is at odds
with its intended child audience or child (apparently even marionette) performers.
The other issue for some collectors will be is it ‘real’ Debussy.
This is because it is a work in part orchestrated by André Caplet.
Particularly with this work I think this is a spurious concern. Debussy wrote
a complete piano score and commenced orchestrating it before an invitation
to conduct in Russia took his attention. Caplet, a Prix de Rome winning composer
in his own right, and log-term friend and collaborator with Debussy completed
the task. I think the orchestration is a delight - the skill and sophistication
of it clearly apparent in this new recording. If you can accept a Korngold
film score as being extensively worked on by Hugo Friedhofer then there is
nothing to dismiss here. The hardest thing for the conductor is to find the
ideal blend of simplicity and sophistication as well as integrating the episodic
nature of the score. I’m not sure that Debussy helps in this cause by
the slightly knowing and arch references to other works whether its his own
Golliwog’s Cakewalk or the Mendelssohn Wedding March or
the Soldier’s Chorus from Gounod’s Faust amongst
others. The cross-quotations would sail over the head of the intended audience
and so are there just for the sake of cleverness.
As I said, this is my first encounter with Jun Märkl and his orchestra.
Generally the impression is a very positive one. Technically the Lyon players
are very assured with some beautifully refined woodwind solos in particular.
Partly due to the chosen somewhat analytical recording and in part down to
interpretation this comes across as a rather literal straight-faced performance
lacking to a degree in charm. Not that that is a totally negative comment.
The result is a version that sounds strikingly modern if not very child-like.
Tim Handley’s engineering has opted for quite closely miked strings
and wind with less front-to-back perspective than might be ideal. I suspect
this is choice forced on the team by the recording venue of the Auditorium
de Lyon which sounds like a barn. Behind the closely miked players there is
a big wallowing resonance - the lower frequencies of the bass instruments
and the big drum being notable ‘beneficiaries’ at climaxes. One
oddity of the recording is that the important orchestral piano part and the
percussion seem to sit slightly behind the rest of the orchestra. The registering
of internal detail is excellent with Caplet’s orchestrational skill
very apparent. In its own right this is a successful objective and valid version
of the work. Returning to Martinon I would have to say that I find his performance
to be more completely satisfying. Those old EMI/Salle Wagram performances
have atmosphere and character in abundance although it is hard not to draw
the conclusion that technically the Lyon players of 2010 are better equipped
as a whole than their compatriots of nearly 30 years earlier. That being said
there is an elegance to much of the earlier playing, an easy gallantry - I’m
thinking here in particular of the extended cor anglais solos - that trumps
the modern performance.
The next work on the disc is rarer still. Ernest Ansermet’s orchestration
of the Six épigraphes antiques are pure delight. A cursory glance
through the current catalogue produces a couple of other versions but none
from other collections of complete orchestral works. Again the modernity of
Debussy’s writing strikes home. The Chansons de Bilitis which
provided the source material for the Six épigraphes antiques
[1914for the four-hand original version]was written as early
as 1900. Yes it can be argued that Ansermet’s orchestral treatment from
1939 seeks to underline this modernity from a perspective a quarter of a century
after they were written yet at the same time this is a beautiful reworking
of a gem of a work. For all the evocative titles Debussy gave the movements
this is much more abstracted music than the preceding ballet. Because of that
it seems more suited to Märkl’s slightly detached approach. Again
the woodwind are beautifully refined and chaste and with less inherent drama
and a narrower dynamic range the recording battles the hall acoustic less.
For the rest of the programme the orchestrations are more functional rather
than revelatory which I feel the Ansermet is. There are interesting comparisons
to be made. Geoffrey Simon on Cala recorded orchestral versions of the two
Estampes which are more interventionist than the versions we have here
which are much more along the lines of faux-Debussy. Simon chose Stokowski’s
take on La soireé dans Grenade and the remarkable Percy Grainger’s
extraordinary re-imagining of Pagodes. To be honest I like both approaches
but I think in the context of a series such as this the choice to stick to
styles more as-one with Debussy’s own orchestral palette was the right
one. That being said Grainger makes you realise just what a radical Debussy
was. All the more astounding when you consider that Pagodes dates from
1903 just six years after the death of Brahms. Although Caplet’s hands
it sounds more like a novelty and less revolutionary I do like the way the
cascading harp registers beautifully through a haze of string trills in the
closing pages.
Less successful as a performance is Molinari’s treatment of L’isle
joyeuse. Simon gave us the same version and to be honest is more athletically
joyful. I cannot fault any aspect of the Lyon playing except that there is
a fractional degree of calculation that I would happily trade for a smidgen
more sensuous spontaneity. The disc closes with a reconstruction of the very
early Le triomphe de Bacchus. The interest here is to map the creative
path Debussy was on. Marius-François Gaillard’s orchestration
is far less interesting than elsewhere on the disc - far more standard 19th
Century with hints of Massenet and even Chabrier but I assume that is a fair
reflection of Debussy’s work at that time. It’s a fairly anonymous
ending to an interesting disc. Certainly this will encourage me to look forward
to Volume Six and some more orchestrations but at the same time I am not sure
that I have heard anything here that encourages me to visit to the earlier
volumes in the expectation of displacing my pre-existing favoured versions
in the standard Debussy repertoire. On the showing here I would say a good
orchestra with Märkl a safe pair of hands but lacking the last degree
of fantasy that can transform this already wonderful music into something
extraordinary.
Nick Barnard
Lacking the last degree of fantasy that can transform this already wonderful
music into something extraordinary.