Maurice RAVEL (1875–1937)
La Valse [11:34]
Ma Mère l'Oye ballet [27:58]
Alborada del gracioso [7:04]
Pavane pour une infante défunte [6:10]
Valses nobles et sentimentales [15:45]
Boléro [14:42]
Sinfonia of London/John Wilson
rec. 2020/21, Church of St. Augustine, Kilburn, London
CHANDOS CHSA5280 SACD [83:45]
Escales, the 2020 album from the Sinfonia of London and John Wilson, had a mix of French repertoire including a stirring account of Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole. This release devoted entirely to Ravel is very generous, with six works and a running time of nearly 84 minutes.
There are première recordings here of the original versions of Ma Mère l'Oye and Boléro, but the (generally very informative) booklet gives little information about how these versions vary from older more familiar scores, though Chandos’ publicity for the disc mentions the use of a pair of antiphonal snare drums in Boléro. The small print gives publishing credits to volumes 1 and V11 of the Ravel Edition, where any novelties are to be found, perhaps. Still, it is good to know we are a bit closer here to Ravel’s original intentions, even if we are not speaking of “versions” differing to the degree that occurs in certain Bruckner Symphonies.
Perhaps as significant is John Wilson’s swift tempo for Boléro. Ravel spoke of the work playing for 17 minutes, and notoriously chastised conductors, Toscanini included, for going too fast. In fact, Ravel’s own recording and that supervised by him for conductor Piero Coppola are just under 16 minutes, and many modern recordings are, like Wilson’s, around 15 minutes. The Spaniard Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos takes 17:04 (EMI 1992) and Jos van Immerseel and Anima Eterna take 16:53. That recording (Harmonia Mundi 2006) is valuable for its use of period instruments and for a booklet discussion, with bibliography and discography plus observations by the conductor, of this tempo issue. But there is still much to admire in this performance of Boléro. Wilson’s tempo is close to an established norm on disc, and the important thing is that he maintains it, in the strict way that the composer wanted. This gives scope for some instrumental solos to phrase freely within the metrical framework, as Ravel expected. In fact, the saxophone and trombone, subtle glissandi and all, both sound as if they are habitués of jazz clubs.
The other headline work on the disc’s cover is Ma Mère l'Oye, the nearly 30-minute complete ballet with its added prelude and interludes. This is a very beautiful account of the most enchanting of the composer’s ballet scores. In the Prélude, the horns seem to be calling from Fairyland, and the woodwind playing is sensitive and poetic throughout. The harp contributions - in concert often more easily seen than heard - really register here, as they do throughout the disc. The transitions between interludes and the original tableaux familiar from the orchestrated suite are skilfully managed by Wilson, so that one hears an integrated continuous work full of fascinating episodes, rather than a patchwork. Le jardin féerique, properly Lent et grave, and with a breathtakingly tactile pianissimo, has all the quintessential Ravelian tendresse one could wish for.
The other four items, all in one way or another concerned with the dance, have the same qualities. La Valse opens the disc, its subterranean start ideally captured by the engineers, as is the early harp glissando, before the splendid string section swoons into the waltz theme. Maybe others have closed the piece with a still more frenetic sense of dancing towards doom, but this account sounds quite apocalyptic enough. Alborada del gracioso is a high-stepping tour de force, with a darkly grainy bassoon colouring the middle section. Pavane pour une infante défunte, its flowing tempo spot on (“It’s the infanta that’s dead, not the pavane” warned Ravel) benefits from the sonorous and noble horns at the outset, yet more seductive wind playing, and sensuous strings at the close. Valses nobles et sentimentales has the most fascinating harmonies of all these works, and so gains much from a recording that reveals each strand of the music even in its busiest sections. It gains, too, from John Wilson’s naturally lilting manner with the rhythms. The Epilogue in which the foregoing waltzes are recalled makes a truly eloquent envoi in the hands of these players and their conductor.
John Wilson, the Sinfonia of London, and Chandos’s atmospheric SACD engineering have become a formidable package, and this highly recommendable disc can only enhance their standing further. All Ravelians will hope their future recording programme includes a coupling of Ravel’s complete ballet Daphnis et Chloé and Le Tombeau de Couperin.
Roy Westbrook
Previous review: Nick Barnard
