#impresisonism

At the turn of the century, two different harp manufacturers developed different mechanics for allowing the harp to carry a more chromatic range. Debussy and Ravel were the two ‘stars’ of French music, and so the companies reached out to them to write music to display their respected harps capabilities. Pleyel commissioned Debussy to write music for their chromatic harp, and Érard commissioned Ravel to write for their pedal harp. This relatively dull backstory helped to produce one of the most beautiful works of chamber music in history. It’s also an unusual work because of the unique ensemble, which in a way is looking forward to contemporary music [writing for small chamber ensembles of unique combinations is much cheaper than a full orchestra, and you can still get the benefits of contrasting sonorities]. But by putting the sound of the plucked harp against winds and strings, Ravel uses their contrast to highlight each other. Also, because it is a display piece for the harp, the harpist acts almost like a concerto soloist, taking over the main melody, filling the music with decorations, and even getting its own cadenza. It opens with the first main melody, played in the winds, a slow drawl wavering in the air, kind of mysterious. Then the second main melody comes in on the strings, very simple, bare, but surprisingly moving. Four notes falling, then rising up. Then the melancholy tune introduces the harp’s glissandos. Then the instruments trade melodies, the strings play the mystery motif and the winds play the melancholy one. This dreamy opening shifts into a gloriously orchestrated passage of fluttering winds over a melody in the cello, creating such a luscious sound from a small ensemble. This bleeds into the Allegro, opening with the harp playing a new main melody, modal and soft, with complicated figuration around it. For the rest of the work, the three melodies come back again and again, with different colors and harmonies. There is a great passage that makes use of the strings plucking, complimenting the harp. Then, a polyphonic section where the harp plays the ‘melancholy’ melody over the string’s ‘mysterious’ melody. The first harp cadenza is intense, and unlike previous flute writing, the notes are deliberate, not just decoration. The music continues to build up to intensity, until the harp’s “official” cadenza, which opens with a Beethoven-like dramatic scale, then bringing back the melancholy melody that here sounds so stark and haunting. When the rest of the ensemble comes back, they play a happier re-write of the melancholy theme, and the ending has a more cheerful pastorale mood. The work is dreamlike, and it’s amazing to hear how much emotion is concentrated into such a short time. Unfortunately, the unique ensemble makes it rare to play in concert, and that’s a shame because this is one of Ravel’s most beautiful treasures.

Three Posts Imagined in the Second Sky

There’s kind of a funny sub-genre of classical music for pieces that the composer didn’t care much about, yet exploded in popularity. Some examples include Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture, Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in c# minor, and Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance march. And I think at the top of this list would be Ravel’s Bolero, a piece that he considered “orchestral tissue without music” and yet is the most popular thing he wrote, to the point that most people wouldn’t recognize any of his other music if they’re only familiar with classical references in movies and TV. And Ravel was quite critical of the work. He was originally commissioned by Ida Rubinstein to write a short ballet piece, and at the time Ravel had been focusing on deconstructing old dance forms. Working from his Basque heritage, he wrote in the form of Spanish dances, first as a Fandango but later it morphed into the Bolero. There is no development, very little modulation; it is one melody over a sable beat that repeats with different instruments and instrument groups, slowly building up and getting louder. While one could criticize the work for “not going anywhere” and being very simplistic, minimalistic, and repetitive compared to the rest of Ravel’s output, it still has a lot of plus sides. At the forefront is the orchestration. Ravel is hailed as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, orchestrators of all time, and so this work can be seen as a study in colors, or textures. There’s another aspect that composer David Bruce mentions in a recent YouTube video, that Bolero is among the few examples of a clearly “teleological” piece of music. That is, the end goal is clear, and the entire work is focused on reaching that cumulation, and so you get to meditate on the journey that it carries you toward that expected destination.

5. La vallée des cloches (to Maurice Delage)

View of the Thames: Charing Cross Bridge; Alfred Sisley.

Charles Monignot, Kittens by a Harp