Pavane, Op.50

Although it has proved to be of lasting value, Fauré’s Pavane is a concept very much of its time and place. Written in Paris in 1887, it is the product of a semi-aristocratic society where success in music depended no less on the favourable opinion of the hostesses of fashionable salons than on that of professional critics or the directors of orchestras and opera houses. Much of the music from the first half of Fauré’s career was composed with that sociological fact firmly in mind, not least his Pavane in F sharp minor. Although it was actually written for Jules Danbé, conductor of the orchestra of the Opéra-Comique, it was dedicated to the rich and influential Countess Greffulhe. Thanks to her, Fauré had the pleasure of seeing it danced at a night-time party in the Bois de Boulogne.

Obviously, in a situation like this, Fauré’s music would have to be on its best behaviour. The Pavane is, in fact, a soothing if slightly melancholy evocation of a gracious dance of a former age, its gently undulating melodic line drawn by woodwind over a lute-like accompaniment in the strings. The middle section is more emphatic in expression but it doesn’t last long before the dance is resumed as before.

Ravel’s Pavane pour une Infante défunte, written twelve years later, is a direct descendant.

Although it has proved to be of lasting value, Fauré’s Pavane is a concept very much of its time and place. Written in Paris in 1887, it is the product of a semi-aristocratic society where success in music depended no less on the favourable opinion of the hostesses of fashionable salons than on that of professional critics or the directors of orchestras and opera houses. Much of the music from the first half of Fauré’s career was composed with that sociological fact firmly in mind, not least his Pavane in F sharp minor. Although it was actually written for Jules Danbé, conductor of the orchestra of the Opéra-Comique, it was dedicated to the rich and influential Countess Greffulhe. Thanks to her, Fauré was able to able to add a choral part – to a text supplied by her cousin Robert de Montesquiou – and even have the pleasure of seeing it danced in a performance she arranged at a night-time party in the Bois de Boulogne.

Obviously, in a situation like this, Fauré’s music would have to be on its best behaviour. The Pavane is, in fact, a soothing if slightly melancholy evocation of a gracious dance of a former age, its gently undulating melodic line drawn by woodwind over a lute-like accompaniment in the strings. The middle section is more emphatic in expression for both the orchestra and a now slightly satirical chorus, but it doesn’t last long before the dance is resumed. This time, however, the voices ignore the melody so gracefully restored to woodwind and strings and continue, though rather more poetically, to make their observations on the dancers before them.

Fauré’s Pavane, which was written in Paris in 1887, is as much of its time and place as Milhaud’s Le Boeuf sur le Toit and Ibert’s Divertissement are of theirs. It is the product of a semi-aristocratic society where success in music depended no less on the favourable opinion of the hostesses of fashionable salons than on that of the professionals in charge of orchestras and opera houses. Much of the music from the first half of Fauré’s career was composed with that fact firmly in mind, not least his Pavane in F sharp minor. Although it was actually written for Jules Danbé, conductor of the orchestra of the Opéra-Comique, it was dedicated to the rich and influential Countess Greffulhe. Thanks to her, Fauré was able to able to add a choral part, to a text supplied by her cousin Robert de Montesquiou, and realise his ambition of seeing it danced in a performance she arranged at a night-time party in the Bois de Boulogne.

Obviously, in a situation like this, Fauré’s music would have to be on its best behaviour. Far from having anything provocative or satirical about it, the Pavane is a soothing evocation of a graceful dance of a former age, its gently undulating melodic line drawn by woodwind over a lute-like accompaniment in the strings. The middle section is a little more emphatic but it doesn’t last long before the dance is resumed. It is generally agreed, incidentally, that the work is more effective when performed, as on this occasion, in its original version for orchestra without the added choral part.

Ravel’s Pavane pour une Infante défunte, written twelve years later, is a direct descendant.

Although it has proved to be of lasting value, Fauré’s Pavane is a concept very much of its time and place. Written in Paris in 1887, it is the product of a semi-aristocratic society where success in music depended no less on the favourable opinion of the hostesses of fashionable salons than on that of professional critics or the dirctors of orchestras and opera houses. Much of the music from the first half of Fauré’s career was composed with that sociological fact firmly in mind, not least his Pavane in F sharp minor. Although it was actually written for Jules Danbé, conductor of the orchestra of the Opéra-Comique, it was dedicated to the rich and influential Countess Greffulhe. Thanks to her, Fauré was able to able to add a choral part - to a text supplied by her cousin Robert de Montesquiou - and even have the pleasure of seeing it danced in a performance she arranged at a night-time party in the Bois de Boulogne.

Obviously, in a situation like this, Fauré’s music would have to be on its best behaviour. The Pavane is, in fact, a soothing if slightly melancholy evocation of a gracious dance of a former age, its gently undulating melodic line drawn by woodwind over a lute-like accompaniment in the strings. The middle section is more emphatic in expression for both the orchestra and a now slightly satirical chorus, but it doesn’t last long before the dance is resumed. This time, however, the voices ignore the melody so gracefully restored to woodind and strings and continue, though rather more poetically, to make their observations on the dancers before them.

Ravel’s Pavane pour une Infante défunte, written twelve years later, is a direct descendant.