Danse

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
~ L. Cohen, "Dance Me to the End of Love"

The St. Louis Symphony is celebrating a 100-year anniversary of the Ballets Russes with a dance-heavy program this season - mostly just dance music, although there are some actual dance performances. (I have my ticket for the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago event in February.)  There was a nice insert in my symphony program all about the Ballets Russes taking Paris by storm, Diaghilev and Nijinsky and Fokine, Stravinsky and Debussy ... and Ravel.

The night's feature was Ravel's "Daphnis et Chloé," which Nijinsky commissioned when he was more or less fired from the Ballets Russes and started his own production season in Paris. It's the story of a shepherd and the girl he loves. The girl is abducted by pirates when she brings flowers to a statue of three Nymphs; Daphnis complains bitterly that offerings to the gods are to no avail, and then dreams that the Nymphs step down from their pedestals to intervene. Satyrs take over the pirates' camp and drive them away, and Pan Himself returns Chloe to Daphnis.

What a great tale! Young love, pirates, magic - and even Pan! And lots of dancing: dancing in honor of the nymphs, dancing to win the love of the lady, Chloe's dance for the pirate captain; and it ends in a swirling "Bachanale"  involving all the rejoicing peasantry. I was pretty psyched, especially after SLSO Chorus Director Amy Kaiser's introductory remarks about the unusual orchestration. Lots of different flutes, of course, for the panpipes; but also four different bassoons playing together in a "grotesque" dance (the losing suitor), as well as a range of clarinets including the baby E-flat.

First, though, we heard Schumann's Piano Concerto in A Minor, performed by Eric Le Sage, who has just finished recording 19 CDs worth of Schumann and therefore could be considered an expert. "Regularly praised for his very subtle sound and his real sense of structure and poetic phrasing," read the program notes. I found his sound very ... blended. Not so much individual notes coming together, but a shimmering blur of constantlly shifting colors. It was very beautiful but somehow didn't sound like a live performance.

***

Guest conductor Stéphane Denève introduced the Ravel. First he explained that Schumann's "Selections from Carnaval," which opened the performance, was chosen for this concert because it was written for piano and supposedly orchestrated by Ravel - thereby tying the Schumann and Ravel pieces together. But in the next breath he cast doubt on the Ravel connection, so that was odd. He did admit that it had a very Gallic sound, though, making me wonder what makes orchestration sound Gallic as opposed to Germanic or Russian or whatever. I shall have to fine tune my ear. Anyway, I enjoyed his accent (both aigu and grave). He did not sound like Inspector Clouseau.

And the dance began. The translated lyrics were projected on a screen over the orchestra's heads, which had surprised Maestro L'Accent but also gratified him because it made it easier for the audience to follow the story. What it did for me was provide unintended entertainment. I was sitting very far forward (11th row) on the outside aisle, and there was a young couple several rows ahead of me, sitting at the feet of the bass violins. The young woman could NOT see the screen around the standing bass players, and she was quite acrobatic in her attempts. Everytime a new phrase appeared on the screen, she dodged left and right, raised her butt up out of her seat and practically crawled into her companion's lap. It wasn't very balletic, but it was entertaining.

I did wish for the ballet. The orchestra was as marvelous as I expected, and the choir even more so. But the composition itself is so narrative that, by itself, it reminded me of a movie soundtrack. The movements were very distinct and very clearly portraying action and emotion - almost too clearly, like a nice rousing speech as opposed to poetry. (This might be partly due to the words on the screen, which I could see without doing my own little chair dance.) Ballet dancers might have given me more of an abstract translation to ponder. Or maybe I should have read it in French, since I don't know much French. "Daphnis does ... something," I would tell myself. "And the peasants rejoice."

(Also I kept wondering what happened to Daphnis' sheep while he was dancing with maidens and dreaming of nymphs. I kept hoping for a Sheep Dance, gone astray.)

***

There was more dance and more Ravel on Thanksgiving weekend: "Bolero" and a Spanish guitarist, and reportedly even a flamenco dancer. But the Fates (or Nymphs) conspired to prevent my attendance. Timing was just off. So instead, I saw The Muppets. <belly laughing> "Mademoiselle Cochonée" supplied both the French and the dance.

Comments

[Brian]

Sadly, I didn't understand a word of this post until you got to Miss Piggy . . .

;-)

[alex]

hee hee hee Brian. I thought I was the only one. :-)

My mother was big on classical music and symphony, alas I inherited none of that. I enjoy hearing the music, but I can't discuss any of it.