D’un Matin de printemps

D’un Matin de printemps and its companion piece D’un Soir triste were completed in the last year of the composer’s life, probably in January 1918. There is no conclusive evidence as to which of the two was written first, but it is impossible to escape the feeling that D’un Soir triste (On a Sad Evening) is a dying composer’s unhappily realistic commentary on the all too transient radiance of D’un Matin de printemps (“On a Morning in Spring”). Although the two pieces are very different in emotional significance, their basic material is much the same.

The main theme of D’un Matin de printemps, introduced by flutes against a lightly articulated ostinato in the upper strings, is an attractively cheerful tune in dotted rhythms. As it passes to the harp, a solo cello offers a graceful variant and the two melodies are developed in resourceful and colourfully scored counterpoint. In the middle section, inspired by expressive solo strings, the orchestra takes a more poetic and increasingly passionate view of springtime nature - but only to be cut short by muted horn and trumpet eager to restore the initial activity. Instead of reintroducing the main theme immediately in its original form and its original key, however, Lili teasingly reserves that event for the main climax of the piece, not long before its explosive ending.

D’un Soir triste

In Rome in 1916, anxious to know whether she would have time to finish her Maeterlinck opera La Princesse Maleine, Lili Boulanger was told by the doctor attached to the Villa Medici that she had no more than two years to live. In fact, while she did not get very far with La Princesse Maleine, she was able to complete Psaume 130 and Vieille Prière bouddhique in Arcachon in 1917 and a pair of orchestral pieces, D’un Matin de printemps and D’un Soir triste, back home in Paris before the end of January 1918.

There is no documentary evidence as to which of the two orchestral pieces was written first. It is impossible to escape the feeling, however, that D’un Soir triste (“On a Sad Evening”) is a dying composer’s unhappily realistic commentary on the all too transient radiance of D’un Matin de printemps (“On a Morning in Spring”). The uncertain state of the manuscript of D’un Soir triste seems to confirm the conjecture, in that it was clearly all she could do to finish it. Certainly, within a matter of weeks she was in no fit state to write at all and had to dictate her last work, a necessarily economical setting of the Pie Jesu, to her sister.

Although the two pieces are very different in emotional significance, their basic material is much the same. The main theme of D’un Matin de printemps, introduced by flutes against a lightly articulated ostinato in the upper strings, is a playful tune in dotted rhythms with a cheerful upward flourish connecting its first two phrases. As the theme passes to the harp, a solo cello offers a graceful variant in longer note values and the two melodies are developed in resourceful and colourfully scored counterpoint. The Debussyish atmosphere is intensified in the more thoughtful middle section, beginning with a downward series of whole tones on clarinet and bass clarinet. Inspired by expressive solo strings, the orchestra takes a more poetic and increasingly passionate view of springtime nature here - only to be cut short by muted horn and trumpet eager to restore the initial activity. Instead of reintroducing the main theme immediately in its original form and its original key, however, Boulanger teasingly reserves that event for the main climax of the piece, not long before its explosive ending.

D’un Soir triste is in the same triple-time metre and in a similar, if more sombre, modally influenced E minor as D’un Matin de printemps. Its main theme, introduced in the opening bars by clarinet and bass clarinet, is a close variant of that of the companion piece, although at something like half the tempo and against dark accumulations of fifths in the strings it gives a quite different impression. On an upward flourish on first violins, the melody is extended and then developed in increasing despair. Here too a middle section calls Debussy to mind, this one beginning dramatically with a motif of descending semitones on trombones and tuba and ending on the height of a long crescendo with a sudden silence.

Again the composer again avoids an immediate return to the opening material, this time by interpolating what, even though it is still in triple time, can only be called a funeral march with dark off-beat colouring on harp and percussion. An intimate treatment of an augmented version of the main theme on solo strings and woodwind against a background of harp and celesta colours meets a sinister reminder of the same theme in its original form on all the brass. So the opening section is now recalled in its unconsoling modal harmonies and approaches a new height of despair. Just before the end of the work, however, there is a hint of reconciliation, or transfiguration even, as strings and harp catch a brief glimpse of radiant E major harmonies and sustain their faith into the attenuated closing bars.

D’un Soir triste

In Rome in 1916, anxious to know whether she would have time to finish her Maeterlinck opera La Princesse Maleine, Lili Boulanger was told by the doctor attached to the Villa Medici that she had no more than two years to live. In fact, while she did not get very far with La Princesse Maleine, she was able to complete Psaume 130 and Vieille Prière bouddhique in a hotel in Arcachon in 1917 and, back home in Paris, a pair of orchestral pieces, D’un Matin de printemps and D’un Soir triste, before the end of January 1918.

There is no conclusive evidence as to which of the two orchestral pieces was written first. It is impossible to escape the feeling, however, that D’un Soir triste (“On a Sad Evening”) is a dying composer’s unhappily realistic commentary on the all too transient radiance of D’un Matin de printemps (“On a Morning in Spring”). The uncertain state of the manuscript of D’un Soir triste seems to confirm the conjecture, in that it was clearly all she could do to finish it. Certainly, within a matter of weeks she was in no fit state to write at all and had to dictate her last work, a necessarily economical setting of the Pie Jesu, to her sister.

Although the two pieces are very different in emotional significance, their basic material is much the same. The main theme of D’un Matin de printemps, introduced by flutes against a lightly articulated ostinato in the upper strings, is a playful tune in dotted rhythms with a cheerful upward flourish connecting its first two phrases. As the theme passes to the harp, a solo cello offers a graceful variant in longer note values and the two melodies are developed in resourceful and colourfully scored counterpoint. The Debussyish atmosphere is intensified in the more thoughtful middle section, beginning with a downward series of whole tones on clarinet and bass clarinet. Inspired by expressive solo strings, the orchestra takes a more poetic and increasingly passionate view of springtime nature here - only to be cut short by muted horn and trumpet eager to restore the initial activity. Instead of reintroducing the main theme immediately in its original form and its original key, however, Boulanger teasingly reserves that event for the main climax of the piece, not long before its explosive ending.

D’un Soir triste is in the same triple-time metre and in a similar, if more sombre, modally influenced E minor as D’un Matin de printemps. Its main theme, introduced in the opening bars by clarinet and bass clarinet, is a close variant of that of the companion piece, although at something like half the tempo and against dark accumulations of fifths in the strings it gives a quite different impression. On an upward flourish on first violins, the melody is extended and then developed in increasing despair. Here too a middle section calls Debussy to mind, this one beginning dramatically with a motif of descending semitones on trombones and tuba and ending on the height of a long crescendo with a sudden silence.

Again the composer avoids an immediate return to the opening material, this time by interpolating what, even though it is still in triple time, can only be called a funeral march with dark off-beat colouring on harp and percussion. An intimate treatment of an augmented version of the main theme on solo strings and woodwind against a background of harp and celesta colours meets a sinister reminder of the same theme in its original form on all the brass. So the opening section is now recalled in its unconsoling modal harmonies and approaches a new height of despair. Just before the end of the work, however, there is a hint of reconciliation, or transfiguration even, as strings and harp catch a brief glimpse of radiant E major harmonies and sustain their faith into the attenuated closing bars.