The complete orchestral works of Maurice Ravel have always fitted neatly
onto a small number of records, and comprehensive sets of the music have
been staples of the catalogues since the earliest days of LP. Mind you, some
have been more comprehensive than others; of the works on this disc
(described as “Orchestral works 2”
- see
review of Volume 1) Dutoit (Decca) omitted the early
Shéhérazade overture and the brief
Fanfare. Several other
sets have included orchestral treatments of Ravel works by other hands. The
complete
Chandos set, for example, includes the
Introduction and
Allegro and
Piano Trio in orchestral versions by conductor
Yan-Pascal Tortelier, but excludes the two piano concertos.
The first thing to be said about this disc, which is presumably intended
to form part of yet another complete edition, is that the sound is very
clear and immediate. There is no sense of the veiled impressionism and
recessed reverberation that made the early digital recordings by Charles
Dutoit and his Montreal forces so impressive. Although the recordings were
made at different venues, the sound throughout is generally remarkably
consistent; so this closely observed sound and clarity of texture is clearly
what the conductor wants. At any rate I find the offstage fanfares during
the
Prelude [track 2] of
Ma mère l’oye — the complete
ballet, not just the suite orchestrated from the piano duet original — far
too immediate to convey the sense of mysterious distance that Ravel surely
wanted. In the
Danse de rouet the spinning-wheel sounds here more
like an industrial loom. The close observation of the double bassoon during
the conversation between Beauty and the Beast makes the latter more present
than it could ever be in the concert hall, while his transformation into
violin harmonics is more naturally balanced. At the same time the birds who
lead
Petit poucet astray in the forest are more backwardly placed,
in stark contrast to the approach of a conductor like Ansermet, who knew the
composer well and presumably appreciated exactly what he expected. The score
is clearly laid out before the listener in full analytical detail, which is
welcome; but somehow the very clarity loses the atmosphere of the music
itself.
Similar considerations apply in
Une barque sur l’océan where the
swell of the sea beneath the boat assumes positively gale-like force. On the
other hand the ‘fairy overture’
Shéhérazade — which has nothing in
common with the later Ravel song cycle of the same title — recorded in a
different hall, is somewhat less closely subjected to the scrutiny of the
microphones, which brings a more pleasing sense of proportion. It is not
clear why these recordings should have been made in different halls, since
they don’t seem to derive from live performances; perhaps this simply
reflects the peripatetic nature of the broadcasting orchestral schedule.
Incidentally it is not clear that the composer, who effectively disowned his
Pavane pour une infante défunte in 1912, would have been altogether
pleased by the resurrection of this even earlier score which he himself
described as “lousy”. It is in fact a charming piece in its own right and
has many incidental moments that anticipate the later Ravel but is far from
characteristic of his mature style. No more is the
Menuet antique,
Ravel’s first published score, although Ravel’s orchestration dates from as
late in his career as 1929. The disc concludes with the fragmentary
Fanfare written by Ravel for a collaborative ballet. The other
composers involved were Ferroud, Ibert, Manuel, Delannoy, Roussel, Milhaud,
Poulenc, Auric and Schmitt. It is a much more ‘modern’ piece than anything
else on this disc but sounds a little forlorn when heard in isolation. One
feels that the tremendous tam-tam crash at the end urgently needs something
to follow it.
Much of the listener’s reaction to this disc will be a matter of personal
taste. Students of composition and orchestration will revel in the clarity
of the sound which enables all of this master orchestrator’s often very
individual effects to be heard to their best advantage. Others may find the
results a little too much in their faces to be altogether comfortable.
Stéphane Denève clearly loves the music, and we are never bustled along at
too brisk a pace; a criticism that can sometimes be levelled at Boulez, for
example. The magical opening of the
Jardin féerique from
Ma
mère l’oye is savoured at a very leisurely pace. I must admit to a
preference for the less analytical, more impressionistic approach of Dutoit
who cedes very little to Denève in terms of clarity but gains in warmth.
Then again, as I have already said, this is a matter of personal taste, and
the recorded sound here is very immediate indeed.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
