Debussy: La Mer

Claude Debussy’s symphonic poem La Mer is one of the most frequently performed work and a staple in orchestral repertoire. It’s familiarity earns its place among pantheon of warhorses such as Tchaikovsky’s last three symphonies and Beethoven’s Fifth symphony – in case sometimes familiarity breeds contempt as they say. Why? Despite its familiarity, the work still remains revolutionary yet tolerable in the ears of musically conservative. Note the opening notes at the beginning which the harp imitates Javanese gamelan for example and as Peter Gutmann explains in his analysis of La Mer recordings other traits such as ornamental lines tracing back to Bach, influences of harmonic range of Chopin and Straussian orchestral colour. It is a wonder conservatives like Toscanini championed the work while works of other composers in Debussy’s time such as Mahler and Second Viennese school composers (Schoenberg, Webern, Berg) gets harder attention. The work retains the form of a standard symphony as observed by critic Louis Laloy in its premier that “the three movements have role and form of a first movement, scherzo and finale of a symphony”. Yet the first movement for example, does not adhere to typical sonata allegro form and Debussy utilizes uses of motifs and imaginative (in terms of radical and unusual) orchestral writing skills to conjure various moods and impressions of the sea throughout the three movements.

Debussy actually intended to depict the “feelings” of the sea rather than reproduction of nature. The composer originally intended to become a sailor and was encouraged by his father who was an ex-Navy man who ran a china shop. His father’s business collapsed and young Debussy caught up in trouble and was sent to prison. Debussy was released after a year and he stayed with a friend of family, who happens to be mother-in law of poet Paul Verlaine. She steered Debussy to his destiny of being a musician by sending him to Paris Conservatoire and the rest is history. Even so, Debussy still retained his feelings to the sea, particularly when he ran away from his wife and seek refuge to his mistress at an island somewhere in the English Channel. A reproduced print of Hokusai woodblock print “The Hollow Wave of Kanagawa” gave him inspiration, particularly the curl of a giant wave and he asked his publisher Jacques Durand to reproduce the work on the cover of the printed score.

There are a few famous recordings of the work that I have listened particularly by one of great French music exponents Charles Munch’s record with Boston Symphony Orchestra. Herbert von Karajan’s recorded this work with Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra on both EMI and Deutche Grammophon labels and the latter I’ve heard exposes the work’s great elemental nature. The orchestra’s homogenous sound helps to greatly intensify the dynamic mood contrasts and the crescendos particularly on first and third movements are as powerful as the turbulence of the sea. Conductor Pierre Boulez’ recording with the Cleveland Orchestra is the my favorite and combining the maestro’s astounding ear for clarity, balance and analytical mind with the orchestra’s reputation of seamless orchestral blending and colour, the result is sensous. This is one of the very few classical recordings which literally is a feast of senses. The record boasts transparency and exposure of the score than many recordings yet sounds as focused and powerful as Karajan’s recording for DG.

Karajan/BPO (DG)

Interpretation: 8
Technical: 9
Recording: 9

Boulez/Cleveland (DG)

Interpretation: 9
Technical: 10
Recording: 10

Back with vengence! BBC Symphony concert review

Hi. I suffered some Writer's Block crap and couldn't write for so long. Enjoy this review!

In one review of violinist Ilya Gringolts album, classicstoday.com writer Anastasia Tsioulcas wrote that, "Every season or two another teenage musician is put forward by the media, an eager label, or an even more eager manager as the next great violin prodigy, the worthy successor to the lineage of luminaries. Most of these youngsters have technique but no soul, marching in an endless parade of Sibelius and Tchaikovsky concertos, one performance (and performer) just like the last. " The paragraph concludes, "Unlike some other youthful blazes of virtuosity, he's the real deal."

My sixth sense was screaming for me to attend the BBC concert on Thursday night despite the fact I was so damned broke I'm owing my flute teacher a class fee (sigh...). the ticket was bought last minute and I was seated at the very, very front A row luckily at the center right at smack where the violinist is positioned to unleash his interpretation on Dimitri Shostakovich's Violin Concerto no 1. Every single cent of the 55 ringgit I borrowed from my mum was worth it, what more pitifully my violinist friends couldn't attend.

It took a little while to warm up at the first movement, Nocturne with Gringolts' light and a little detached sound. The BBC accompaniment towards the serene but apathetic and numb emotional music was superb. By Scherzo, his famed Russian-style aggressive robust approach unveils itself to the audience. The highlight of the concerto is the Passacaglia which contains a lengthy, yet complex and difficult cadenza (solo playing without orchestral accompaniment). At beginning of the movement, Shostakovich juxtapoxes Stalin/invasion theme from his Seventh symphony (Leningrad). Shostakovich composes that symphony during the terrible Leningrad invasion by the Nazis. In what seems to be depicting the terrible emotional agony of the war and persecution of Soviet authorites, Ilya Gringolts was very involved with the anguish of the composer, moreso during the lengthy cadenza before the last movement. Every single note was articulated well, but the coupled with fierce bow attacks and Gringolts demonic intensity the effect was devastating. The burleske movement which follows up concludes that concerto. I am convinced Shostakovich's violin concerto is not only a showpiece of technical prowess, but a powerful work of art and statement. It is to my amazement the 24-year old Ilya Gringolts, youngest winner of Premio Paganini competition displays such maturity and depth of interpretation that is very difficult to find for a guy at his age.

The BBC symphony played before that Smetana's My Fatherland from Ma Vlast and Igor Stravinsky's Petrushka after the concerto. It is typical of Czech conductors that Jirí Belohlávek conjures fine interpretation of the Smetana piece and the Dvorak Slavonic Dances encore that follows up next. The Petrushka isn't perfect, with complex notations that the BBC winds and brasses find it a challenge. Off-pitches, blunt and uncoordinated attacks aside, maestro Belohlavek highlights the Mahlerian brashness and sarcastic nature of the work and the flops are forgettable by second half of the work. For violin enthusiasts, they could've just gone home and skip the Petrushka to treasure what seemed to be a emotionally intense performance earlier.