French Mystique in HK

Although it's now June, as far as Le French May is concerned, the mystique of France is still with us. We had an all French programme of music and a French pianist with the HKPO at the Cultural Centre Saturday evening. The first number that night was Claude Debussy's Khamma, followed by Camille Saint-Saëns' Piano Concerto No. 5 in F, Op 103, popularly known as the Egyptian and after the intermission, three pieces by Maurice Ravel: first his Alborada del gracioso, then his famous Rapsodie Españole and finally his Boléro. As pianist, we had Jean-Yves Thibaudet and as conductor, we had the German-Japanese Jun Märkl.

The first piece was a piece a bit unlike Debussy's other works. Originally the Khamma was supposed to  be written for a "dance play" commissioned by a Canadian dancer Maud Allan. Debussy finished its piano score in 1892, when he was asked by the publisher Durand to adapt it for a full orchestra but he did  less than a hundred bars and gave up. Eventually the orchestral version had to be completed by Charles Koechlin. For various reasons unconnected with music, the piece was premiered only in Paris in November 1916 and it wasn't until 1947 that it was presented as a ballet. But it was a very atmospheric piece, plenty of dark moods, soft passages and very jerky rhythms, depicting Egypt being threatened by its invading enemies, its high priest making offerings at the temple to Egypt's unresponsive national god Amun-Ra until Khamma, a tiny dancer appeared there in the moonlight and offered three dances to her god in a desperate effort to induce him to help her nation but was struck down by her god at the ecstasy of her dance. As the sun rises on the sound of an Egyptian victory, the people return to lament her sacrifice.

We next had Saint-Saën's Piano Concerto No. 5 in Allegro animato, Andante, Molto Allegro, a work he premiered in 1896 at a concert to mark the 50th anniversary of his debut, written in the winter of 1895 in Egypt, much of it during a cruise down the Nile but there were not very much Arabian influence in the piece except a few typical Arabic turn of musical phrases. The first movement was rather positive and sunny, the second was supposed to describe various scenes in the manner of Debussy's famous "tone poems" including one about "chirping crickets and croaking frogs" and the third was again quite light hearted with sounds suggesting the rhythms of a ship's engine shoving forward in the sunny seas, which has always held a special fascination for him. Thibaudet was excellent as a pianist. I like in particular the way he played soft and fast passages. He gave us as encore one of the preludes of Debussy(?). And  Märkl  was very expressive as conductor, using huge contrast in the level of sound between the soft and loud passages.. 


The concert after he intermission became an all-Ravel affair. According to the programme notes, the piece Alborada del graciaso could be translated as "the jester's morning song". I only know that "gracioso" is a character in classical Spanish comedy who would says some very clever things in a veiled manner. But whatever the true meaning of the  title, it's a very colorful piece with sudden unpredictable switches and reverses of moods typical of the quirky ways of the Spanish spirit.


The next piece Rapsodie Españole is one of Ravel's favourites amongst my hi fi friends because of its very rich orchestral colors for all kinds of instruments. Although theoretically, it comprises a prelude à la nuit, malagueña, habañera and feria, it's played without a break, the two middle movements being the title of two types of popular Spanish dance music at the time. Feria in Spanish means feast day or festival and as its name implies,it's is full of Mediterannean sun and fun, ending in a blaze of joyful sounds.


The last piece was a hypnotic piece based on a very simple melody played by different instruments successively, sometimes louder, sometimes softer, sometimes with just one instrument playing and sometimes with the whole orchestra playing together but whoever is playing, we have the same steady rhythm from start to finish which gives it a kind mesmerising unity, as if we were witnessing a caravan of camels going up and down one sand dune after another under the relentless African sun. Some say that his music shows  a complete lack of the usual "development". But to me, we should be happy, not unhappy because this omission by Ravel. Why can't a composer change the way he composes but must always conform to set methods. If that kind of logic were to prevail, we shall never have anything new. We shall never have anything innovative and the freedom of the human spirit to soar at its own pace, in its own way will be restricted within the cage of "conventionality" and "conformity". Music would then be dead and become a endless repetition of the past. Music will then be fit only for corpses!


When I was returning home, the theme of Boléro was still continuing in my brain! That's the effect of music.