Thank you very much, I said, when I found these four CDs lying
on my doormat the other morning. I sent my review in immediately:
“These are amongst the best Debussy interpretations ever put on
record and you cannot live without them”. The powers that be wrote
back to me: “not everyone who reads MusicWeb is as old as you,
Bob (the cheek of it!), and therefore not all of them know about
the magnificence of Ansermet’s Debussy recordings. Can you please
expand on what you wrote?” I quickly responded with “These are
amongst the best Debussy interpretations ever put on record, now
in brilliant sound, and you cannot live without them”. Still not
enough for them in charge. Some people are so hard to please.
However, if, like me, you’re a big fan of Debussy you will be
pleased with these re–issues for they are superb. I will expand
on my theme.
Starting as a mathematics professor at the University of Lausanne,
Ansermet first conducted in Montreux in 1912 and between 1915
and 1923 was the conductor for Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes. He
founded the L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande in 1918 and conducted
it for the rest of his life. Ansermet met both Debussy and Ravel,
discussing their music with them, and becoming their lifelong
interpreter, recording all their orchestral works. What we have
here are interpretations as close to the composer’s own ideas
as is humanly possible.
One thing we all know is that the L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande
was never, during Ansermet’s tenure, amongst the greatest orchestras,
but they worked and made many recordings, becoming world famous.
In May 1954 Decca Records, with whom the orchestra had a long
contract, made the first commercial stereo recordings in Europe
with Ansermet and his orchestra. These recordings span the whole
of the second half of Ansermet’s conducting career and the whole
of Debussy’s compositional career.
Musically, the
Petite Suite is not typical Debussy in any
way, but, somehow, Henri Büsser’s orchestration seems to give
it more life than it has in its original garb. Ansermet and his
orchestra play very well indeed and the performance is lively,
full of gaiety, and totally unpretentious.
Printemps shows
a surprising leap forward in Debussy’s technique and style. It’s
still not as deft nor as subtle as what was to come in the very
near future, but it has much to commend it. Conceived for chorus
and orchestra, this version was created by Büsser and it incorporates
the choral parts into the orchestral texture. It’s a lovely piece
and Ansermet brings out the wide range of colour with such clarity!
The recording captures the orchestra very well indeed and the
balance of the orchestral piano is excellent. One thing puzzles
me. At the 2001 Proms Richard Hickox and the BBC National Orchestra
of Wales gave the premiere of a new realisation of the original
score for chorus and orchestra by Christopher Palmer and it’s
odd that this very fine version hasn’t been taken up by any performers
or recording company. Until then we must be happy at having such
a fine performance on disk.
Ravel’s lovely orchestration of the piano piece
Tarentelle
Styrienne, which he named
Danse, is a pleasant rush
through the work. I cannot see why Ravel would have wanted to
make this arrangement for the original isn’t one of Debussy’s
best piano pieces by a long way, but perhaps it was the slightly
exotic quality of the music which appealed to him. However, it’s
quite agreeable and makes a delightful fill–up at the end of much
seriousness.
Clair de lune, from the
Suite bergamasque,
in the orchestration by André Caplet, receives a limpid, transparent
performance which is just right for this delicate music.
Marche
écossaise is a piece of fun, nothing profound,
just a jaunt round a theme. Again, it makes a nice fill–up. Strangely,
at one point the music sounds as if it was a piece of nature music
by Delius!
According to Pierre Boulez,
Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune
marks the start of 20
th century music – it also marks
the start of Debussy’s mature style. He’s right, for here is something
very new, very exciting and quite unique. Ansermet chooses a perfect
tempo, allows for a lot of the most subtle rubato and directs
a magnificent performance, full of allure, sex and mystery. Wonderful.
The sound is good but if you play this track at too high a volume
you’ll hear the thin violin sound; turned down the sound is perfectly
acceptable.
Nocturnes and La Mer are probably Debussy’s best known orchestral
works after the Prélude and Ansermet does them both proud
with strong, slightly understated, performances which radiate
romantic warmth whilst, at the same time, are full of impressionistic
elusiveness. Nocturnes starts with a beautifully restrained Nuages,
the clouds allowing us to see the landscape but in the distance.
This is well paced and perfectly coloured. Fêtes, with its
middle section of “a dazzling fantastic vision” (as
Debussy described the carnival which bursts across his canvas)
is wild and exuberant, a Spring break of a piece and Sirènes,
with its depiction of the enchantresses had me willing to shipwreck
myself for their charms! A very well paced performance here and
the chorus sounds very good and certainly not the matronly lot
we so often hear!
La Mer, a Symphony in all but name; a towering masterpiece
of 20th century music. This performance is, for me, Ansermet’s
finest and it shows both him and his orchestra on their topmost
form. Daybreak is taken at a steady tempo and the sun rises
slowly and in a stately manner. The Play of the Waves, in the
second movement, is just that, a game where nothing gets out
of hand, and the Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea, a fearsome
seascape if ever there was one, is a no–holds–barred
nightmare. The to big climaxes, at the ends of the first and
third movemets ate well built and quite overwhelming, and, very
sensibly, towards the end of the third movement Ansermet re
– instates the fanfares which Debussy removed from the
score, but which are so essential at that point, and are thrilling
to say the least! These performances of the Nocturnes and La
Mer are the highlights of these two sets.
.
The orchestral
Images is one of Debussy’s best sets of
pieces, being full of the most wonderful tunes, brilliant orchestral
sound and local colour – the three pieces depict three areas;
England in
Gigues, Spain in
Ibéria and France in
Rondes de Printemps. This is Ansermet’s 1949 recording
of the work – there is a later version in stereo – and the sound
is slightly restricted, but not so much as it will worry you.
Raymond Tuttle’s notes here are odd, to say the least. He claims
this to be the second of Ansermet’s two recordings of
Images
but there is the later, stereo, version (Decca LXT 5650 (mono
issue) and SXL 2287 (stereo issue) – a splendid performance, coupled
with Stravinsky’s
Symphonies of wind instruments and Ravel’s
Pavane pour une infante defunte, which seems to be unavailable
at the moment). Also he makes the claim that
Gigues is
about Scotland, saying the tune
The Keel Row (which Debussy
quotes) is a Scottish tune, but as far as I understand it, this
tune is of Northumbrian origin, and concerns the keelmen of Tyne
and Wear, who loaded coal onto keels for movement down river,
and lived in the Sandgate area outside the city walls, hence the
words of the song:
As I came thro' Sandgate,
Thro' Sandgate, thro' Sandgate,
As I came thro' Sandgate, I heard a lassie sing:
We'll ma'e the keel row,
The keel row, the keel row,
We'll ma'e the keel row,
That my laddie's in.
So we can rest assured that this music is about England. These
are fine, strong performances, which are, in general, well characterised,
and the transfers are very good, but the oboes do, from time to
time, sound a little acidic, and at 4:17 in
Gigues there’s
a moment of quite distinct pre–echo! Once or twice there’s the
sound of side swish, but it won’t bother you. On occasion, such
as the climax of
Rondes de printemps, Ansermet is apt to
be a trifle po–faced, and he fails to inject the music with the
required amount of jollity, but these are mere moments and they
pass. As there is such a wealth of good things here it’s a factor
not worth thinking about.
Première Rapsodie, for clarinet and orchestra, was written
as a test-piece for the examinations of the Paris Conservatoire
in 1910. The soloist here, Robert Gugholz, had been a member of
L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande for 25 years when he stepped
into the limelight to give this performance. He plays it as if
he’d worked with the composer, so authentic is his performance.
Ansermet supplies a solid, but still discreet, accompaniment.
Le martyre de Saint Sébastien is a very long play by the
Italian poet and playwright Gabriele d’Annunzio. Debussy accepted
the commission to write the music because he was expecting a refined
mystery play, but discovered that it was a sensational vehicle
for Ida Rubinstein and her legs! As a play it wasn’t a success
but Debussy’s music has survived and Ansermet recorded almost
the complete score. This music seems to show every facet of Debussy’s
music; there’s a little impressionism, a lot of modernism, some
very tender moments and quite a bit of ecstatic vocal writing.
Here Ansermet directs a somewhat understated performance which
helps to highlight the mysticism. There’s some splendid brass
playing to be heard and the solo voices are excellent, especially
the marvellous Suzanne Danco. At the end there is a feeling of
sexual eroticism as the Saint dies from his arrow wounds, which
is what I suspect d’Annunzio wanted. Choir, soloists and orchestra
are very well captured in this full-blooded recording.
Khamma brought Debussy 10,000 francs as a commission fee
and, for a man always short of folding matter, this proved most
welcome. On completion of the work, dancer Maud Allen, for whom
it was written, started suggesting changes and one can imagine
that it was at this moment that Debussy lost all interest in the
piece. Certainly it wasn’t performed, in the concert hall, until
1924 nor was it seen as a ballet until 1947. Although there are
many typically Debussian fingerprints in the music it must be
said that this is not a typical Debussy score, nor is it one of
his best. The general belief is that he wrote the piece for the
money and that I can well believe. Ansermet directs a very persuasive
account of the music but even he cannot dispel ones disappointment
with the score.
Jeux is a difficult piece to perform for, of all Debussy’s
works, it is the most elusive in form, content and orchestration.
This seems to me to be the most modern and forward-looking of
all Debussy’s scores and, no matter how it works as a ballet,
in the right hands this is a wonderful concert piece. This performance
is one of the very best in this set: the sound is full and warm
and there is a rich bloom to it. This should win some fans for
the piece.
La Boîte à Joujoux is a real delight, and although it’s
not top-notch Debussy it’s very enjoyable and great fun, in some
measure thanks to André Caplet’s marvellously evocative orchestration,
which includes a part for solo piano. The music quotes from other
works, and I always think of this piece as a kind of subtle and
gentle counterpart to Ibert’s
Divertissement! Again, Ansermet
hits exactly the right tone and gives a lovely lightweight account.
Six épigraphes antiques was written for four hands at one
piano and the pieces are very delicate flowers, light, with a
feeling of other–worldliness. It’s a gorgeous suite for the keyboard.
Ansermet’s, very careful, orchestration is totally faithful to
Debussy and he hasn’t tried to inflate the music – others, including
Rudolf Escher, have orchestrated this music but none have managed
to get the real Debussy feel to their versions. Both as an arrangement
and as a performance this is a resounding success.
Despite the fact that the orchestral playing isn’t perfect, and
there is a lack of erotic sensuality, these are still superb interpretations
and give an insight into this, sometimes mysterious, music which
no other conductor has quite achieved. Having said that I would
be neglecting my duties if I didn’t alert you to Barbirolli’s
magnificent 1959 performance of
La Mer with his beloved
Hallé on top form. This is a more passionate reading than Ansermet’s
but it is just as valid and the climaxes are broader and more
terrifying than with the Swiss conductor. Despite its age the
stereo sound (made by Pye) is first rate (EMI/Phoenixa CDM 7 63763–2
coupled with Ravel’s
La Valse,
Ma Mère
l’Oye and the
2nd Suite from
Daphnis et Chloë (with chorus) in superb performances).
Also, I mustn’t forget Pierre Monteux’s accounts of the
Prélude,
Nocturnes and
Images with the London Symphony Orchestra
(Decca Eloquence 476 8472), nor his magnificent 1955 recording
of the
Nocturnes with the Boston Symphony Orchestra (BVCC-37168
- coupled with Tchaikovsky’s
6th Symphony).
Finally, although this doesn’t appeal to some, I do find that
Pierre Boulez, whilst cool in his approach, manages to get it
right more often than not and his interpretations of the major
orchestral works is highly recommendable (Sony SM2K 68327). It’s
interesting that whilst Barbirolli gives a full-bodied romantic
account of the music and Boulez an analytical view, Ansermet somehow
manages to steer a course between the two, bringing the different
sides of Debussy’s character together.
If you only want one version of Debussy’s orchestral works, or
can only afford one, then you will not be disappointed with these
Ansermet disks for they are highly enjoyable and I am more than
happy to welcome their return to the catalogue.
Bob Briggs
Robert Gugholz (clarinet), L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, Ernest
Ansermet 
