Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Ravel Paris 2025
Choeur de Radio France
Orchestre National de France/Cristian Măcelaru
rec. live February 2025, Grande Salle Pierre Boulez-Philharmonie Paris (Le Tombeau, Daphnis), March 2025 Auditorium, Maison de la Radio et de la Musique Paris (remainder)
Naïve V9018 [3 CDs: 179]
It is no real surprise, given that 2025 is the 150th anniversary of the birth of Maurice Ravel, that, there should be a significant number of releases to memorialise – and financially exploit – the event. The French label Naïve’s contribution is this handsomely but neatly packaged three-disc set titled “Ravel Paris 2025”. The title relates to a series of concerts given in Paris around the exact anniversary of Ravel’s birth (7 March 1875) by the Orchestre National de France under their Musical Director, Cristian Măcelaru. This is my first encounter with Măcelaru’s work, although reviews I have read of his work both in concert and on disc seem to have been very positive. Likewise, there is a lingering hope that a premiere French ensemble in French repertoire will bring something idiomatic and insightful.
The resulting set brings pros and cons. Perhaps most importantly for those seeking a one-stop-shop “complete orchestral works”, this is not that. None of the concertante works or vocal works are included, no orchestrations of other composers’ music either. The ‘main’ missing work is the Valses Nobles et Sentimentales along with smaller pieces such as the Menuet Antique and the Sheherazade: Ouverture de Féérie amongst others. Of course, all of these exist in fine alternative versions which can be easily sourced to complement this new set. The pros are numerous. The playing is genuinely beautiful both individually and collectively and the engineering captures the orchestra in a convincingly natural – perhaps slightly distant – concert hall acoustic. There is a complete absence of audience noise – only the indication in the booklet that these were recorded in concert gives the listener any such inkling. Probably showing my age, I do miss the audibly distinctive sound of French orchestras from fifty years ago. Perhaps the horns have a hint of mellowness still, but in terms of idiomatic ‘regional’ sound that is about it. The playing is marked by a refinement and poise which matches Măcelaru’s approach to this repertoire very well. On grounds of purely personal subjective taste, this suits some of the scores better than others.
Certainly, two of the three works on the first disc are genuinely excellent and indeed Le tombeau de Couperin that opens the set I enjoy as a performance as much as any I have heard. In part, this is due to the unexpected bonus of two of the movements that Ravel did not orchestrate being performed here in very idiomatic and effective versions by David Molard Soriano in 2021. These are the Fugue restored to second place and the exhilarating closing Toccata. Apart from anything else, these additional orchestrations allow the sequence of movements to copy the original piano suite – which to my ear benefits the musical arc of the complete work. Looking back through the catalogue, I see that the great Hungarian pianist Zoltán Kocsis conducted a disc on Hungaroton back in 2003 that included his own orchestrations of these two movements amongst other piano works by Debussy and Ravel. Out of curiosity, I streamed this version and it is also very good. Perhaps a slightly more upfront recording and likewise Kocsis’ orchestration has elements that are more him than Ravel but I came away from that wondering why any ‘completion’ of the piano set has not been done before or used more often in orchestral performances. There is another ‘completion’ by Kenneth Hesketh used by Sakari Oramo in his collection on BIS which I have not heard.
Following on from this is a complete version of the always delightful Ma mère l’Oye. This is music that wholly benefits from the poise and precision of the playing and the fluid elegance of Măcelaru’s conducting. For example the gentle ecstasy of the closing Apothéose is beautifully caught. The Naïve engineering is again very good at replicating a concert hall experience – so some instruments are slightly more distanced but audible than on many spotlit recordings. There are occasions – not just in this work – where I do wonder if the global obsession with sheer technical perfection risks loss of character. A case in point here would be the contra-bassoon used by Ravel to depict the “beast” in third tableau Les entretiens de la Belle et de la Béte. We are given a masterclass in beautiful contrabassoon sonority but surely Ravel had something more grotesque in mind? That is a minor quibble – this is a genuinely fine performance.
Disc 1 is completed by La Valse. Here I find the coolness of the approach pays less dividends. Surely this work does need to embody some kind of end-of-an-era fever dream. I can certainly imagine that some listeners will prefer the objectivity offered here because the playing and recording remains very fine and I do respect the consistency of Măcelaru’s approach. All too often Ravel can be presented as some “master of the orchestra” that requires his music to be played as primarily a virtuoso showcase. Self-evidently the music does require a virtuosic orchestra to play it as well as they do here but the control is so held that the crucial sense of abandon and ultimate dissolution is missing.
Disc 2 present five more very familiar Ravel scores. It starts with une barque sur l’océan which is Ravel’s own orchestration of the third of the 1906 Miroirs. The score’s direction of “très souple de rythme” plays to the strengths of these performances – poised and lucid. Măcelaru is very good at finding the balance between the sense of the deep swell of the ocean and the flickering light on the waves. Again the sound is notable for the simple beauty caught by the engineers. The same rapt qualities result in a truly beautiful account of the ever popular Pavane pour une infant défunte. The opening horn solo – presumably played by Hervé Joulain (there is a full orchestral list in the booklet) – is absolutely ravishing. Măcelaru is a few seconds towards the slower range of timings for this work but there is a sense of floating in timeless space. This is quite probably one of the most captivating performances of this very familiar work I have ever heard. Alborada de Gracioso is Ravel’s orchestration of the fourth of the Miroirs. The neatness and precision that has marked this collection so far is again evident but I do miss the swagger, urgency and dynamism that other versions have. Oddly there are inconsistencies in the percussion balance – one moment it is very good with a nicely present thud on the bass drum soon followed by all-but-inaudible castanets. These recordings were made across two venues and three concerts. Generally the sound is both very good indeed and consistent so perhaps these distant castanets are a choice?
Rapsodie espagnole has in the course of its four movements passages of atmospheric beauty and pulsating energy. Again, I find Măcelaru is excellent at allowing an elastic freedom in the slower passages – the opening Prélude à la nuit an excellent example with the solos within the orchestra taken with a near-improvisational quality to great effect. The following brief Malagueña is more muted than other versions with oddly reticent castanets again. .The third movement Habanera has a dreamy rather sensual quality enhanced by more lovely solo work. Măcelaru takes this at the slower end of the ‘standard’ range of timings which clearly chimes with his overview of this work specifically and Ravel’s work as a whole. The closing Feria is still at the slower end of the normal range but not by that much. My personal preference again errs towards a greater sense of emotional and physical release – this is beautiful but just rather too polite. That said, I can imagine listeners enjoying the sheer quality of the playing and the consistency of the approach.
This disc is completed by the ubiquitous Boléro. That very familiarity does mean that both players and audiences can be rather dismissive of the work. My feeling is that it is a piece that is quite easy to do badly. Not in the sense of poorly executed by individual players but rather interpretatively. There needs to be a sense of inexorable progression rather than a shopping list of solos. The basic tempo, steady, implacable and inevitable, is key. Măcelaru is again at the slower end of the standard range which I feel is just about perfect – the pulse is held without dragging. All of the solos are beautifully played but without labouring the phrasing or dynamics – control is the key here and very clearly conductor and orchestra are as one. I was also glad to hear Măcelaru keep the tempo rock steady right through to the end. That said, I did miss a sense of lift and tightened tension at the modulation only forty seconds or so from the final collapse.
Disc 3 is devoted to Daphis et Chloé alone. The liner – in French and English only – focuses on the role this orchestra and its various musical directors have had since its foundation in 1934 playing these scores rather than offering any analysis or history of the music itself. Apparently the very last concert Ravel heard was of this work in November 1937 just a month before his death. Tragically, the liner relates the stricken Ravel, suffering from a degenerative brain disease, writing after the concert; “I still have so much music in my head, I haven’t said anything yet, I still have so much to say….” Listening to Ravel’s most ambitious and largest-scale orchestral score one can only imagine what he might have written. On the evidence of the first two discs I wondered if this performance would project the big set-piece sections as dynamically as I would like. In fact, this is a very fine performance indeed, with no caveats.
There are many extended atmospheric scenes which are beautiful conveyed both musically and in terms of the recording. The significant contributions of the Choeur de Radio France are effectively and atmospherically balanced. Unsurprisingly all the instrumental solos are quite beautifully played. Again, Măcelaru impresses with the fluidity and expressiveness of his conducting. Recently – both on disc and at the 2025 Proms – John Wilson and his Sinfonia of London showcased this work as a display of their collective virtuosity. The Proms performance – which I did not hear received rave reviews. On disc I was not as impressed, while recognising the excellence of the actual playing I did not find Wilson to be a very compelling Ravel conductor. Măcelaru throws light onto this lingering impression. He is both subtler and suppler as a conductor finding greater nuance throughout. But if the worry is that sections such as the Danse guerrière will feel underpowered, Măcelaru delivers a thrillingly exciting reading superbly played. There is dynamic energy and thrust without becoming outsized. Indeed there is a distinct sense of Măcelaru pressing forward which is quite unlike his approach to any of the music in this set so far. Another difference to the Chandos/Wilson version is the approach to the engineering with Chandos producing a kind of hyper-fi soundscape of huge dynamic range, detail and impact. Naïve’s ‘concert hall’ style sacrifices some of that sheer impact but in exchange the orchestral sound has a convincing sense of cohesion and blend. Individuals will need to judge for themselves the approach they prefer.
Indeed, it is not just the quicker sections of the score that benefit from Măcelaru’s more unbuttoned approach. The Danse suppliante de Chloé that follows soon after has a swooning sensuality that is quite different from the more objective approach applied to other scores in this set. The justly famous ‘dawn’ sequence; Peu à peu le jour se lève [track 17] is predictably fine with the slight distancing of the orchestra allowing an aural haze of shimmering harps and flutes through which the morning light emerges. Surely this is one of the greatest most ravishing passages in 20th Century music. Măcelaru’s control of the gradual build towards the full light of day is masterly – credit again to the engineers who allow the chorus contribution to be just that – part of the collective timbre. From there to the end of the ballet again the pacing is pretty much ideal to my ear – culminating in a thrillingly vibrant closing Danse générale (Bacchanale). Of course, the catalogue is full of excellent versions – look no further than the work’s first conductor Pierre Monteux’s LSO/Decca classic or Charles Munch in Boston on RCA to know there is a very high bar set for this work on disc decades ago. So with the caveat that I doubt any single version could really be considered “the best”, I have to say I have not enjoyed a new version more than this performance in a very long time.
Perhaps the A&R folk at Naïve recognise that this is the ‘special’ performance in the midst of other very good ones. The discs are presented in a four-part fold-out sleeve which is extensively and rather attractively decorated with elements of Léon Bakst’s designs for the original Ballet Russes presentation of Daphis et Chloé in 1912. My only concern with this presentation is that the CDs themselves tuck into the cardboard without any further protection which I would think will make them vulnerable to scuffing and damage over time. About three years ago I reviewed a similar multi-disc survey on SWR Classics played by Stéphane Denève and the Radio-Sinfonieorchester Stuttgart des SWR. Returning to that review (I have not listened to those performances ever again…), I see that I had a similar “well-played but….” response as I do in parts here. But this is interpretively a superior set although I do wonder if the common performing style suggests that the modern approach to Ravel places supreme accuracy and precision above all. However, I have enjoyed this whole set very much – even when certain performances do not ignite in the way I like to hear, the consistency of the interpretative style and the beauty of the actual playing are impressive in their own right.
Nick Barnard
Contents
Le tombeau de Couperin (1914-17)
Ma mère l’oye – complete ballet (1911-12)
La valse (1920)
Une barque sur l’océan (1926)
Pavane pour une infante défunte (1910)
Alborada del gracioso (1905/18)
Rapsodie espagnole (1907-8)
Boléro (1928)
Daphnis et Chloé (1912)
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