Cello Sonata (1948–53)

Allegro, tempo di marcia

Cavatine: très calme

Ballabile: très animé et gai

Finale: largo, très librement – presto subito – largo

Reluctant to write for solo string instruments and insecure about working in sonata form – ­development sections, he knew, were not his strong point –    Poulenc was never quite sure about his Cello Sonata. Even so he had enjoyed rehearsing the works with its dedicatee, his “angel cellist” Pierre Fournier, for the first performance in the Salle Gaveau in 1949 and when he revised the score for an Italian tour with Fournier in 1953 he did not make sweeping changes.

One of the many positive qualities of the Cello Sonata is that it succeeds on its own terms. It is true that the first movement is not organised in the same way as that of a Beethoven sonata but it holds together partly by virtue of the vividly balletic gesture with which it begins and partly by the apparently intuitive choice of melodic ideas that are congenial to each other even if they are not obviously related. The Cavatine is sheer inspiration. Although it begins with a tranquil piano melody in characteristically tender F sharp major harmonies, it dwells on neither that theme nor that tonality. In fact, the greater part of the movement is devoted to a passionate confession from the cello beginning, without so much as a modulation, in B flat minor. It is only towards the end of the movement that the opening theme is recalled in its original F sharp major harmonies and pianissimo colouring, then to be transfigured in a closing episode featuring both instruments and marked “excessivement calme.”

Poulenc was no doubt aware of a piano piece called Ballabile by his hero of a previous generation of French composers, Emmanuel Chabrier, when he attached the same title to the third movement of his Cello Sonata. The two pieces have little in common apart from their dance-like character and, indeed, the opening theme of this delightful scored scherzo has a direct relationship with Poulenc’s own Les animaux modèles, which was written in 1940 at about the same time as an early sketch for the Cello Sonata.

The aggressive sonorities and the weird cello harmonics in the slow introduction suggest that the Finale is going to be something very serious. In fact, as soon as the tempo changes it races away in a tarantella and then strides into a Prokofiev-style march before making way for a more lyrical episode echoing the slow section of the first movement. The tarantella and the lyrical episode are recalled and so – coming as a shock at this late stage – are the aggressive sonorities, now actually amplified, from the opening bars.

Allegro, tempo di marcia

Cavatine: très calme

Ballabile: très animé et gai

Finale: largo, très librement – presto subito – largo

Reluctant to write for solo string instruments and insecure about working in sonata form – ­development sections, he knew, were not his strong point –    Poulenc was never quite sure about his Cello Sonata. He is not known to have condemned it as thoroughly as he condemned the Violin Sonata but, in the year before his death, he did take part in a radio forum in which he discussed what he considered to be the inadequacies of both works. Even so he had enjoyed rehearsing the Cello Sonata with its dedicatee, his “angel cellist” Pierre Fournier, for the first performance (in a programme also including the Debussy Sonata) in the Salle Gaveau in 1949 and when he revised the score for an Italian tour with Fournier in 1953 he did not make sweeping changes.

One of the many positive qualities of the Cello Sonata is that it succeeds on its own terms. It is true that the first movement is not organised in the same way as that of a Beethoven sonata but it holds together partly by virtue of the vividly balletic gesture with which it begins and partly by the apparently intuitive choice of melodic ideas that are congenial to each other even if they are not obviously related. Knowing that he is going to turn to a variety of new material in the middle section, Poulenc does not fail to develop his main themes as he introduces them in the exposition, and when he recalls them in an abbreviated recapitulation they are different again.

The Cavatine is sheer inspiration. Although it begins with a tranquil piano melody in characteristically tender F sharp major harmonies, it dwells on neither that theme nor that tonality. In fact, the greater part of the movement is devoted to a passionate confession from the cello beginning, without so much as a modulation, in B flat minor. As the tempo rises the piano contributes to the melodic interest, referring back to a phrase in the first movement and accompanied by elaborate cello arpeggios or double-stopped tremolandos. It is only towards the end of the movement that the opening theme is recalled in its original F sharp major harmonies and pianissimo colouring, then to be transfigured in a closing episode featuring both instruments and marked “excessivement calme.”

Poulenc was no doubt aware of a piano piece called Ballabile by his hero of a previous generation of French composers, Emmanuel Chabrier, when he attached the same title to the third movement of his Cello Sonata. The two pieces have little in common apart from their dance-like character and, indeed, the opening theme of this delightful scored scherzo has a direct relationship with Poulenc’s own Les animaux modèles, which was written in 1940 at about the same time as an early sketch for the Cello Sonata.

The aggressive sonorities and the weird cello harmonics in the slow introduction suggest that the Finale is going to be something very serious. In fact, as soon as the tempo changes it races away in a tarantella and then strides into a Prokofiev-style march before making way for a more lyrical episode echoing the slow section of the first movement. The tarantella and the lyrical episode are recalled and so – coming as a shock at this late stage – are the aggressive sonorities, now actually amplified, from the opening bars.