Maurice Ravel

Here is my first post on what I think of as abstracted music. I hope in the future to give several posts pertaining to those few who have attained a level of music, which, in some sense lacks music; instead they have mastered techniques of musical abstraction. The very beauty of this music lies in its sense of interpretation, so although I will present my analysis, I leave it to you to tease out your own. By the way, watching these pieces played offers yet another element of curiosity, both because of the virtuosity required to play them as well as having a physical feel of the movement on the piano. They are easily accessible on youtube.

First off comes Maurice Ravel. He did not start the Impressionistic revolution in music, but so far in my journeys, I have not found someone who better embodies my interpretation of Impressionism. Starting out in a musical scene rife with a new stream of ingenuity from the French and Russian camps, Ravel set out to give his hand, but more importantly his mind, to the music. He was trained as a pianist, and studied it through schooling for several years, but he always had a peculiar interest in composing, one far above his interest in playing. As the piano is his maiden instrument, many of his compositions are for solo piano, or were originally scored for some variant of a piano sonata, only to be rearranged into an orchestral composition. He has an intimate understanding of the capacity of instruments, making use of each to dramatic effect. The pianos main forte in this sense is it adroitness in the perception of movement. With the piano he gives the same feeling of fluidity as Debussy, but it is often a much more focused and utilitarian sweep of the keyboard, tracing out large swathes of keys for the purpose of harmonic motion. The usage of volume is just as critical, allowing a swift transition from contemplation to unabated fury.

But even as Ravel composed some of my most treasured piano works, the piano cannot conjure the fitful emotional sensation of a violin, nor the atmosphere of an orchestral backing. And so changing gears, here I present Tzigane. To ensure the utmost gyspsy-esque feel, the piece starts off with instructions to stay on the lowest string. And so commences this odyssey of timbre. The unnerving vibrato, piercing harmonics and squeamishness of the chords (of which I am ever so enamored) establishes the stylization of our violin hero. Just as a good book must characterize the protagonist, Ravel too spends five minutes developing the violin before throwing it into battle with the orchestra. In the ensuing combat our hero seems to fight, suffer wounds, retreat, then rinse and repeat, trying to retain his sense of pride. With some passages I feel the character dragging its melodic feet across the ground, trying to muster strength enough for another engagement with the enemy.

Close your eyes, put on a good set of headphones, and unravel Ravel's majestic musical tapestries.

Also in due respect of the performers, they are as follows:

Jeux d'eau as played by Alaxandre Tharaud on Ravel: Œuvre pour piano

Edit: I changed the Tzigane recording. The violin-piano version is so much better. Performed by Leonidas Kavakos on violin and Peter Nagy on piano.

Jeux d'eau


Tzigane