Prélude à “L’après-midi d’un faune”

It was Paul Dukas who introduced Debussy to Mallarmé’s L’Après-midi d’un faune when he gave him a copy of the poem in 1887. Debussy’s famous Prélude - which “brought new breath to the art of music,” according to Pierre Boulez - was completed seven years later.

As Debussy said in a programme note written for the first performance in Paris in 1894, “The music of this Prélude is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem…a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.” The Faun’s sexual fantasies on that hot afternoon are most seductively represented by the opening flute solo the languorously curving lines of which echo in a variety of instrumental colours throughout the piece.

It was Paul Dukas who introduced Debussy to Mallarmé’s L’Après-midi d’un faune by presenting him with a copy of the poem in 1887. When the poet heard an early version of Debussy’s Prélude five years later, he declared that “this music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” And that was on a piano in the composer’s little flat in rue de Londres. When Mallarmé heard it in its orchestral form on its first public performance at the Société Nationale in December 1894 - when it was immediately encored - he was even more enthusiastic.

As Debussy said in a programme note written for that first performance, “The music of this Prélude is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem…a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.” The Faun’s sexual fantasies on that hot afternoon are most seductively represented by the opening flute solo the voluptuously curving lines of which echo in a variety of instrumental colours throughout the piece.

According to Pierre Boulez, Debussy magical Prélude, “brought new breath to the art of music.”

arranged for flute and piano by N.Platonov

Before the Prélude à “L’après-midi d’un faune” the flute was not regarded as a particularly sexy instrument. Indeed, for composers like Berlioz and Bizet it had a cool, even chaste kind of quality, particularly when combined with the harp. Debussy changed all that. On the first performance of the Prélude in Paris in December 1894 there were probably few people in the audience who had taken the trouble to wrestle with the obscurities of the Mallarmé poem on which it is based. But Debussy’s scoring - above all for the solo flute that represents Mallarmé’s lustful Faun fantasising in the heat of the afternoon - left no room for doubt about the erotic nature of the composer’s inspiration. If anyone needed to have it spelled out, Nijinsky’s interpretation of the Faun in his choreography for the Ballets Russes in 1912 did just that, and in the most explicit of terms.

Composers had long known, of course, that the flute was more supple in line than the oboe and more delicate in sound than the clarinet and they had always prized its agility. So Debussy discovered nothing new. The difference was that, whereas other composers tended to prefer the brighter more penetrating second and third octaves of the instrument’s range, Debussy was more interested in this particular score in its warmer and more voluptuous lower register. All but three notes of the famous opening flute solo, with its sensuously undulating chromatic line, are in that register, and much the same proportion applies to the other solo-flute episodes in the original orchestral score.

In an arrangement of the Prélude for flute and piano the flute naturally has rather more to do. While retaining the first flute part almost exactly as Debussy wrote it, Platonov requires the flautist to take on additional responsibilities, not only other woodwind solos - like the pentatonic second theme usually heard on the oboe - but also such a richly scored string passage as that which so passionately arises in the middle section. Inevitably, in this wider role, the flute is called upon to display an even wider ranger of colour. Even so, unfortunately, there is no way of simulating the sound of the antique cymbals as the Faun falls asleep at the end. Still, when Mallarmé declared that “this music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour” he had heard it no more of it than Debussy was able to play to him on the piano in his little flat in rue de Londres.

arranged for piano duet by Maurice Ravel

When Pierre Boulez remarked that the Prélude à “L’après-midi d’un faune” “brought new breath to the art of music” he was obviously thinking of the work in its full orchestral colours. As a piano piece it would not have had that epoch-making kind of effect. It is worth recalling, however, that when Stéphane Mallarmé first heard the work in 1892, and was so impressed by it, it was on Debussy’s piano in his little flat in the rue de Londres. “I wasn’t expecting anything like it!” he said. “This music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” So, although the experience communicated by a keyboard performance is different, it is not without poetic authenticity - providing, of course, that the arrangement is as sensitive as Debussy’s own for two pianos or, as on this occasion, Ravel’s remarkably ingenious version for piano duet.

“The music of this Prélude,” Debussy wrote, “is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem. It is in no way a synthesis of it. It is more a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.” The opening theme,

seductively falling and rising in semitones through the interval of a tritone and languorously curving round an arpeggio of E major, represents the reed pipe that mythology attributes to the faun or satyr (together with his mixture of human and goatish features and his aggressive male sexuality). By repeating this theme in a variety of different harmonies and instrumental colours and developing it while increasing the dynamic and rhythmic pressure, Debussy achieves a hypnotic atmosphere shifting vaguely round E major rather than a defined episode in a musical structure.

Only then does he introduce a contrasting theme, a largely pentatonic tune harmonised at first in B major. Although this could, conceivably, be associated with the pair of nymphs who are less interested in the Faun than they are in each other, passion is reserved for the middle section where a positively romantic melody in D flat major mingles expressively with phrases derived from the opening theme. The definitive return of that theme, in augmentation, is firmly fixed in E major. The harmonies immediately diverge from there but it is in E major that the melody finally fragments to melt into a distant and receding background.

“I wasn’t expecting anything like it!” said Stéphane Mallarmé, the author of the verse that inspired Debussy’s magical prelude: “This music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” What Debussy had achieved in his Prélude à l’après midi d’un faune was nothing less than the beginning of musical “impressionism” - to use a term Debussy himself rejected - an art that was to open the way for music to communicate sensations perceptible to senses other than just hearing. As he first developed it, in his Estampes (Prints) and Images (Pictures) for piano, the impressions were mainly visual. The piano Préludes and the great orchestral Images, though still largely visual, call on smell and even touch.

In his programme note for the first performance of Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune in 1894 Debussy was modest about his achievement. “The music of this prelude is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem,” he wrote. “It is in no way a synthesis of it. It is more a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.” For all its poetry, however, the piece retains a coherent harmonic structure.

The one item of musical material that we can be sure has a direct correspondence with an event in the poem is the opening flute solo. Seductively falling and rising in semitones through the interval of a tritone and languorously curving round an arpeggio of E major, it represents the reed pipe that - together with a mixture of human and goatish features and an aggressive male sexuality - mythology attributes to the faun or satyr. By repeating this theme in a variety of different harmonies and instrumental colours and developing it while increasing the dynamic and rhythmic pressure, Debussy creates a hypnotically sensual atmosphere shifting vaguely round E major rather than a defined episode in a musical structure.

Only then does he introduce a contrasting theme, a largely pentatonic tune on oboe harmonised at first in B major. Although this could, conceivably, be associated with the pair of nymphs who prove to be less interested in the Faun than they are in each other, passion is reserved for the middle section where a positively voluptuous melody in D flat major mingles expressively with phrases derived from the flute theme. The definitive return of the that theme, in augmentation on flute over harp arpeggios, is firmly fixed in E major. The harmonies immediately diverge from there but it is in E major that the melody finally fragments, on muted horns and a sleepy flute, to melt into a background gently illuminated by the sound of antique cymbals.

Gerald Larner©2002

Mallarmé had always imagined his pastoral poem, L’après-midi d’un faune, staged with music. But it wasn’t until he heard Debussy’s Cinq poèmes de Baudelaire in 1890, fourteen years after the poem was published, that he made a serious effort to realise the idea. By way of a mutual friend he approached the young composer - who as an admirer of the poem, readily agreed - and a performance of “L’après-midi d’un faune with music by Deussy was actually scheduled at the Théâtre d’art in 1891. It was postponed, however, and the project was never revived.

His enthusiasm for Mallarmé’s verse and its musical implications in no way diminished, Debussy responded to that setback by reducing what he had planned as a three-part commentary to an orchestral prelude, which would have no more than a generalised relationship with the poem. Mallarmé, to whom Debussy played the Prélude towards the end of 1892, was thrilled by what he heard: “I wasn’t expecting anything like it!“ he told the composer. “This music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” And that was on a piano in the composer’s little flat in rue de Londres. When the poet heard the first public performance of Prélude à L’après-midi d’un faune at the Société Nationale in December 1894 he was even more delighted.

“The music of this Prélude,” Debussy wrote in his programme note, “is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem. It is in no way a synthesis of it. It is more a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.”

The one item of musical material that we can be sure has a direct correspondence with an event in the poem is the opening flute solo. Seductively falling and rising in semitones and languorously curving round an arpeggio of E major, it represents the reed pipe that - together with a mixture of human and goatish features and an aggressive male sexuality - mythology attributes to the faun or satyr. By repeating this theme in a variety of different harmonies and instrumental colours and developing it while increasing the dynamic and rhythmic pressure, Debussy creates a hypnotic atmosphere shifting vaguely round E major.

Only then does he introduce a contrasting theme, a largely pentatonic tune on oboe. Although this could, conceivably, be associated with the pair of nymphs who prove to be less interested in the Faun than they are in each other, passion is reserved for the middle section where a positively voluptuous melody, in octaves on woodwind or strings, mingles expressively with phrases derived from the flute theme. The definitive return of that theme, stretched out by the flute over harp arpeggios, is firmly fixed in E major again. The harmonies immediately diverge from there but it is in E major that the melody finally fragments, on muted horns and a sleepy flute, to melt into a background gently illuminated by the sound of antique cymbals.

Mallarmé had always imagined his “eclogue,” L’après-midi d’un faune, staged with music. But it wasn’t until he heard Debussy’s Cinq poèmes de Baudelaire in 1890, fourteen years after the poem was published, that he made a serious effort to realise the idea. By way of a mutual friend he approached the young composer - who as an admirer of the poem, readily agreed - and a performance of “L’après-midi d’un faune, a tableau in verse by Stéphane Mallarmé with music by Mr de Bussy” was actually scheduled at the Théâtre d’art in 1891. The performance was postponed, however, and the project was never revived.

His enthusiasm for Mallarmé’s verse and its musical implications in no way diminished, Debussy responded by reducing what he had planned as a three-part commentary to an orchestral Prélude which would have no more than a generalised relationship with the poem. Mallarmé, to whom Debussy played the Prélude towards the end of 1892, was thrilled by what he heard: “I wasn’t expecting anything like it!“ he told the composer. “This music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” And that was on a piano in the composer’s little flat in rue de Londres. When the poet heard the first public performance of Prélude à L’après-midi d’un faune at the Société Nationale in December 1894 he was even more delighted.

If Debussy’s music had been as distorted in harmony as the poem is in syntax, as evasive in expression and as obscure in construction, it would not have been the immediate success it was. It is true that the most inspired aspect of the score is its poetically elusive quality. But the musician in Debussy knew how far he could go - which, in comparison with Mallarmé, is not very far at all. As he said in his programme note, “The music of this Prélude is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem. It is in no way a synthesis of it. It is more a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.”

The one item of musical material that we can be sure has a direct correspondence with an event in the poem is the opening flute solo. Seductively falling and rising in semitones through the interval of a tritone and languorously curving round an arpeggio of E major, it represents the reed pipe that - together with a mixture of human and goatish features and an aggressive male sexuality - mythology attributes to the faun or satyr. By repeating this theme in a variety of different harmonies and instrumental colours and developing it while increasing the dynamic and rhythmic pressure, Debussy creates a hypnotic atmosphere shifting vaguely round E major.

Only then does he introduce a contrasting theme, a largely pentatonic tune on oboe harmonised at first in B major. Although this could, conceivably, be associated with the pair of nymphs who prove to be less interested in the Faun than they are in each other, passion is reserved for the middle section where a positively voluptuous melody in D flat major mingles expressively with phrases derived from the flute theme. The definitive return of that theme, stretched out by the flute over harp arpeggios, is firmly fixed in E major. The harmonies immediately diverge from there but it is in E major that the melody finally fragments, on muted horns and a sleepy flute, to melt into a background gently illuminated by the sound of antique cymbals.

Mallarmé’s eclogue found its theatrical dimension - in a way, and after a manner the poet would probably have disliked as much as the composer did - in Nijinsky’s angular choreography of Debussy’s curvaceous score for the Ballets russes in 1912.

Gerald Larner ©2005

According to his friend and colleague Paul Dukas, “the most powerful influence on Debussy was that of writers not composers.” Dukas was overstating his case, of course, but it is true that what inspired Debussy to extend the range of musical expression to areas scarcely even imagined by his predecessors was his passionate interest in the poetry (and the painting) of the period. Dukas, to whom Debussy had given a copy of Mallarmé’s L’Après-midi d’un faune in 1887 and who had seen Debussy at work on the Prélude he completed seven years later, was more aware of that than most.

Mallarmé, who had always considered that his poem required some kind of theatrical presentation with musical accompaniment, met Debussy in 1890 to discuss the project. Although Debussy apparently agreed to provide what he described as a Prélude, Interludes et Paraphrase finale pour l’Après-midi d’un Faune for a performance scheduled to take place in 1891, he must have had second thoughts about linking his music so closely with the poem. Certainly, it was not until early 1892 that he set to work on what would now be just a Prélude with a no more than generalised relationship with the poem. Mallarmé, who heard Debussy play the Prélude to him later in that year, told him, “I wasn’t expecting anything like it! This music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” And that was on a piano in the composer’s little flat in rue de Londres. When the poet heard its first public performance, which was immediately encored, at the Société Nationale in December 1894, he was even more enthusiastic.

If Debussy’s music had been as distorted in harmony as the poem is in syntax, as evasive in expression and as obscure in construction, it would not have been the immediate success it was. It is true that the most inspired aspect of the score is its poetically elusive quality. But the musician in Debussy knew how far he could go - which, in comparison with Mallarmé, is not very far at all. As he said in his programme note, “The music of this Prélude is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem. It is in no way a synthesis of it. It is more a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.”

The one item of musical material that we can be sure has a direct correspondence with an event in the poem is the opening flute solo. Seductively falling and rising in semitones through the interval of a tritone and languorously curving round an arpeggio of E major, it represents the reed pipe that - together with a mixture of human and goatish features and an aggressive male sexuality - mythology attributes to the faun or satyr. By repeating this theme in a variety of different harmonies and instrumental colours and developing it while increasing the dynamic and rhythmic pressure, Debussy creates a hypnotic atmosphere shifting vaguely round E major rather than a defined episode in a musical structure.

Only then does he introduce a contrasting theme, a largely pentatonic tune on oboe harmonised at first in B major. Although this could, conceivably, be associated with the pair of nymphs who prove to be less interested in the Faun than they are in each other, passion is reserved for the middle section where a positively voluptuous melody in D flat major mingles expressively with phrases derived from the flute theme. The definitive return of the that theme, in augmentation on flute over harp arpeggios, is firmly fixed in E major.The harmonies immediately diverge from there but it is in E major that the melody finally fragments, on muted horns and a sleepy flute, to melt into a background gently illuminated by the sound of antique cymbals.

According to his friend and colleague Paul Dukas, “the most powerful influence on Debussy was that of writers not composers.” Dukas was overstating his case, of course: Franck, Chabrier, Satie, Massenet, Ravel - to mention only the Parisians among his contemporaries - were far more influential in the formation and development of Debussy’s style than Baudelaire, Verlaine, Louÿs or even Mallarmé. But it is true that what inspired him to extend the range of musical expression to areas scarcely even imagined by his predecessors was his passionate interest in the poetry and the painting of the period. Dukas, to whom Debussy had given a copy of Mallarmé’s L’Après-midi d’un faune in 1887 and who had seen Debussy at work on the Prélude he completed seven years later, was more aware of that than most.

Mallarmé, who had apparently always considered that his poem required some kind of theatrical presentation with musical accompaniment, met Debussy in 1890 to discuss the project with him. It was probably at this time that Debussy conceived the idea of writing what he later described as Prélude, Interludes et Paraphrase finale pour l’Après-midi d’un Faune. Certainly, it was announced that in February 1891 there would be a performance of “L’après-midi d’un faune, un tableau en vers de Stéphane Mallarmé, partie musicale de Mr de Bussy.” But Debussy must have had second thoughts about linking his music so closely with the poem. He actually set to work on what would be just a Prélude, with a no more than generalised relationship with the poem, in 1892. Mallarmé, who heard Debussy play it to him later in that year, told him, “I wasn’t expecting anything like it! This music prolongs the emotion of my poem and puts it in its setting more precisely than colour.” And that was on a piano in the composer’s little flat in rue de Londres. When the poet heard its first public performance, which was immediately encored, under the direction of Gustave Doré at the Société Nationale in December 1894, he was even more enthusiastic.

If Debussy’s music had been as distorted in harmony as the poem is in syntax, as evasive in expression and as obscure in construction, it would not have been the immediate success it was. It is true that the most inspired aspect of the score is its poetically elusive quality. But the musician in Debussy knew how far he could go - which, in comparison with Mallarmé, is not very far at all. As he said in his programme note, “The music of this Prélude is a very free illustration of Stéphane Mallarmé’s beautiful poem. It is in no way a synthesis of it. It is more a succession of settings for the desires and dreams of the Faun in the heat of that afternoon. Then, tired of pursuing the timid nymphs and naiads, he lets himself fall into the intoxicating sleep, full of dreams finally achieved, of total identification with universal nature.”

The one item of musical material that we can be sure has a direct correspondence with an event in the poem is the opening flute solo. Seductively falling and rising in semitones through the interval of a tritone and languorously curving round an arpeggio of E major, it represents the reed pipe that - together with its mixture of human and goatish features and its aggressive male sexuality - mythology attributes to the faun or satyr. By repeating this theme in a variety of different harmonies and instrumental colours and developing it while increasing the dynamic and rhythmic pressure, Debussy achieves a hypnotic atmosphere shifting vaguely round E major rather than a defined episode in a musical structure.

Only then does he introduce a contrasting theme, a largely pentatonic tune on oboe harmonised at first in B major. Although this could, conceivably, be associated with the pair of nymphs who are less interested in the Faun than they are in each other, passion is reserved for the middle section where a positively romantic melody in D flat major mingles expressively with phrases derived from the flute theme. The definitive return of that theme, in augmentation on flute over harp arpeggios, is firmly fixed in E major.The harmonies immediately diverge from there but it is in E major that the melody finally fragments, on muted horns and a sleepy flute, to melt into a background gently illuminated by the sound of antique cymbals.

The score that, according to Pierre Boulez, “brought new breath to the art of music” was sold by Debussy to his publisher for a mere 200 francs.