Dutilleux - Sonatine for flute and piano (1943)
Every now and then I’ll come across a story about a piece of music where the composer thought that it was somewhat “beneath” them, or that it isn’t as worthy of performances than their more “mature” works. I can understand this attitude to some extent…as an amateur pianist and composer myself I do feel insecure about whenter my own music is “good enough” to share with other people, but in these cases I’m annoyed by “Great” composers who aren’t happy with their own work if it isn’t “Great Enough”. Obvious example is Brahms and the countless drafts and works he burned due to this perfectionist attitude. He almost erased the first piano trio from his oeuvre for not being good enough. I’m thankful he didn’t, because that trio has some of his most beautiful passages in it (you can listen here). The case is similar to Henri Dutilleux, who was dismissive of his early music for being too juvenile or not reflecting his more mature style, as if the piano sonata and the sonatina for flute and piano are mere trifles with little value, and not the masterpieces they are. Maybe this speaks to a similar issue with figures of the 20th century who were so concerned with their legacy and image in posterity that they had a bit of…maybe rude of me to say, but a bit of arrogance in thinking that they are too good for their own music. All the great composers have weaker music in their collections, but none of that music isn’t “worth” listening to or doesn’t deserve to exist. Sometimes I do wish we could go back to the days of constant publishing and feeling confident enough to share anything we create, even the “less great” works.
Ok, rant over. I got annoyed about this topic from reading about how Dutilleux didn’t care for this Sonatine, despite how great the music sounds to me. Either I have bad taste, or he needs to get off his French high horse. Perhaps the dismissive attitude is because of how much this sonata betrays the influence of Debussy and Ravel. And maybe it’s the 20th century attitude of “Make everything New” that would make someone be insecure about not sounding “original”, even though the majority of artists throughout history show how the greats of the past influenced them, and in this case, Debussy and Ravel are two of the greatest composers of all time and one should be proud to say yes, they inspired me to write music. Maybe a more understandable reason he didn’t love this Sonatine too much is that it was written primarily as an exam piece for flute students at the Paris Conservatoire. Despite being an academic exercise, the music is not stodgy and academic or perfunctory, and it manages to utilize both the lyrical expectations of flute playing with high technical demands in a musically enjoyable way, one that makes it more engaging and worthy of going out of your way to listen to than something like a Hanon piano exercise.
The work is in three short movements, the first opening with piano in unison octaves with creating mysterious atmosphere that the flute then emerges from. This section feels like a dreamy barcarolle quietly rowing along with whole tone scales, and then decorations in the piano with hints of Stravinsky, leading into a beautiful “chorale” passage that makes me think of a Poulenc sonata. In the repeat, both flute and piano parts are more heavily decorated and change the opening texture. There is a sudden pause in the momentum, and over a pedal point and chord in the piano, the flute flies up into a cadenza in its higher registers, somewhat reminicent of birdsong, and the piano interjects with solemn octaves. This leads into the slower middle movement, another chorale like passage but with a more ambiguous character with the flute passage becoming somewhat more haunted. The tension builds and the music gets faster and more frantic, imediately transitioning into the finale with the piano playing a kind of perpetuum mobile passage, and when the flute joins in the character completely changes into something sunny, bright, and glistening with color. This fun movement passes glittering passages between the two instruments before the flute is given another cadenza, longer than earlier and incorporating material from the previous two movements. It is full of impressive passages of scales, fluttering, trills, and pushes into both the lowest and highest registers of the instrument. The piano slowly and quietly creeps in as the music builds another crescendo of energy until the final bar, an abrupt ending that winks at the audience. Even though this was written primarily for the flutist to show their skills, the piano part is also demanding and the music has both instruments playing significant roles. It is also another example of Dutilleux’s interest in contrasts of instrumental color. And as I already said, even though he didn’t think much of this work and almost didn’t publish it, I’m glad that he did keep it alive so we could hear it, because the music is still great and enriching even if the composer didn’t think so. The world is always better with more music, not less.
Movements:
Allegretto
Andante
Animé
