Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Ravel Abroad
La Valse
Rapsodie espagnole
Alborada del Graciosa
Boléro
Odense Symphony Orchestra/Pierre Bleuse
rec. 2021-26
OUR Recordings 8.226944 [53]
To issue such a programme of Ravel showpieces is inevitably to invite comparison with the many great conductors who have been attracted to his mastery of orchestral colour and texture. Among French conductor Pierre Bleuse’s distinguished predecessors whose recordings of these works are on my shelves, are numbered Reiner, Stokowski, Munch, Monteux and Martinon, to name but a handful. Hence, the competition to this latest issue is, to say the least, stiff – and the Danish orchestra here is up against the Chicago Symphony, the Boston and the LSO.
Excellent notes by the exotically named Trine Birgitte Boje Mortensen form a helpful introduction and guide to these four, seminal, Ravel compositions. The programme is comparatively brief but the range of moods embraced here is striking: we move from the febrile nightmare of La Valse, through the extraordinarily wide-ranging compass of Rapsodie espagnole, which takes us from the perfumed calm of a warm Spanish evening to a riotous festival, to the Alborada del Graciosa, which after depicting the tears of the clown again returns to festivities, to the oxymoronic marriage between mechanical Swiss precision and sinuous Spanish melody which is Boléro. Encompassing such an emotional and stylistic span successfully is in itself a huge challenge – so do Bleuse and the OSO achieve that?
Starting with La Valse, it is immediately noticeable that Bleuse takes a full two minutes longer over it than Reiner and Munch – and that’s a lot in a relatively short work. However, he is far from alone; in fact, he is in the company of conductors such as Ansermet and Jansons, while two such different exponents as Boulez and Karajan take even longer – so such comparisons don’t get us far unless we make some generalisations about the violent, breathless take as typified by Munch and Reiner, as opposed to the grand, sumptuous style of Karajan or the ominous, motoric way of Boulez. These are questions of taste and refreshing my aural palate by listening to some of these before the version under review reinforced my conviction that there isn’t only one way to do it.
The clarity of the digital sound here is a big bonus and the Odense orchestra make a really growly sound in the opening – very atmospheric. Bleuse doesn’t pull the score about with too much rubato and point-making, as Ravel has already written all the “effects” into the score; instead, he mostly sustains tension. Nonetheless, I could wish for a little more of the manic drive we hear from Munch and Reiner, as my impression is that – like Karajan – we lose a little momentum in the slower central section, half way through. Having said that, the sheer racket of the apocalyptic conclusion is mightily impressive and the proper sense of hysteria is generated by the swooping trumpets and raging tam-tam – Bleuse certainly pulls it off.
There is an interesting discrepancy about Monteux’s and Martinon’s first movements of the Rapsodie espagnole and Reiner’s: the last takes almost two minutes longer over it. Naturally, Bleuse finds the juste milieu at five minutes; unfortunately, his opening his utterly devoid of magic as he just plunks out the descending four note motif without nuance. Monteux and Martinon are faster but phrase the music more subtly with varied dynamics. Best of all is Stokowski – even live and with coughing; in comparison, Bleuse is prosaic. Martinon’s and Reiner’s Malagueña have much more verve and vivacity about them, Monteux’s a more brooding atmosphere with more arresting phrasing and instrumental colour. The Habanera, by contrast, is fine but Monteux finds more shimmering brilliance in the music, despite the age of his recording – admittedly much refreshed in my issue from Pristine. Similarly, I find Reiner, Martinon and Stokowski much more animated in Feria and the chaotic climax of their recordings is overwhelming, whereas Bleuse is just…OK; I get little sense of elation or release.
Once more, the depth and richness of the digital sound here lends Alborada del Graciosa detail and impact and it is certainly very well played; the dance rhythms are sharp and the solo instrumental playing excellent – but playing Martinon and Reiner immediately after it instantly told me that they had a more acute feeling for the ebb and flow of the music – surely that conclusion owes something to the Rite of Spring and needs more than a touch of its wildness and ferocity?
Boléro – loved and despised in equal measure, even by the composer himself – has had myriad recordings; this one works and as ever the piece exercises its strange, repetitive, contradictory magic – always the same and constantly changing. There is less sense of holding back in the climax here but again, I played Munch for comparison and despite its rather tinny stereo sound, I felt more of a tingle and I could wish that Bleuse had given more oomph to the vital key change towards the end.
In brief, then, the two outer works here are indeed mostly a success but I have reservations about the undue restraint of the two inner pieces.
Ralph Moore
Buying this recording via the link below generates revenue for MWI, which helps the site remain free
