The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (L’Apprenti sorcier)

Of all the music chosen by Walt Disney for Fantasia in 1940, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice – a brilliant orchestral scherzo written by Paul Dukas in Paris nearly fifty years earlier – was the most suitable piece for cartoon treatment. The apprentice in the story on which the score is based is no Mickey Mouse but the idea of a magic trick gone wrong couldn’t be more picturesque. Ordered by the Sorcerer to fetch water to wash the floor, when his master goes out the Apprentice puts a spell on the broom to do the job for him. But he forgets how to stop it and, in his desperation as the water level rises, takes an axe to it and chops it in half – with the result that there are now two brooms flooding the laboratory. The Sorcerer returns just in time to avert disaster.

A short introduction sets the magic scene and offers mysterious hints of themes to be associated with the flood that will soon overwhelm the Sorcerer’s laboratory and with the broom that will so diligently deliver the water to sustain it. Trumpets help the Apprentice cast the spell and, as the broom jerks into life, a bassoon introduces the grotesque theme that represents it – an inspired idea suggesting both the clumsy movement and the obstinacy of the enchanted household implement. There are other themes, including one associated with the excited Apprentice, but it is the broom that occupies the foreground and its characteristic rhythm that keeps up the momentum until the point where, the reverse spell having failed, the Apprentice takes the axe to the broom and secures a brief respite.

The second half of the scherzo, brought to life appropriately enough by a double bassoon, proceeds in much the same unstoppable way as the first but with even more energy and even busier activity in every area of the orchestra. It is only when the Sorcerer returns and utters a fully authoritative version of the spell on the brass that the frenzied activity is brought to a stop. With a last twitch of the broom and a rueful expression of the Apprentice’s regret on solo cello, the waters recede and peace is restored – apart, that is, from the short sharp shock delivered to the Apprentice’s anatomy in the closing bars.

Paul Dukas would probably have preferred to have been remembered for his Symphony in C major or his opera Ariane et Barbe-bleue or his ballet La Péri than for his “symphonic scherzo” The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. But it was The Sorcerer’s Apprentice that Walt Disney chose to include in his Fantasia in 1940 and, the composer having been dead five years by then, there was nothing he could do about it. Written in 1897, it was the one popular success the composer enjoyed in his lifetime and it is such a brilliant conception, in both descriptive and structural terms, that it is not likely to be superseded in that respect.

Actually, of all the music illustrated in Fantasia, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is the most suitable piece for cartoon treatment. The apprentice in the Goethe ballad on which the story is based is no Mickey Mouse but the idea of a magic trick gone wrong is essentially picturesque. Ordered by his Sorcerer master to fetch water to wash the floor, the Apprentice puts a spell on the broom to do the job for him. But he forgets how to stop it and, in his desperation as the water level rises, takes an axe to it and chops it in half – with the result that there are now two brooms flooding the laboratory. The Sorcerer returns just in time to avert disaster.

A short introduction sets the magic scene and offers mysterious hints of themes to be associated with the flood that will soon overwhelm the scene and with the broom that will so inexorably deliver the water to sustain it. Trumpets help the Apprentice cast the spell and, as the broom jerks into life, a bassoon introduces the grotesque main theme in its definitive form – an inspired idea suggesting both the clumsy movement and the obstinacy of the enchanted household implement. There are other themes, including one associated with the excited Apprentice, but it is the broom that occupies the foreground and its characteristic rhythm that keeps up the momentum until the point where, the reverse spell having failed, the Apprentice takes the axe to the broom and secures a brief respite.

The second half of the scherzo, brought to life appropriately enough by a double bassoon, proceeds in much the same inexorable way as the first but with even more energy and even busier activity in every area of the orchestra. It is only when the Sorcerer returns and utters a fully authoritative version of the spell on the brass that a stop is put to it. With a last twitch of the broom and a contrite expression of the Apprentice’s regret on solo cello, the waters recede and peace is restored – apart, that is, from the short sharp shock in the closing bars.