Chansons madécasses

Nahandove

Aoua!

Il est doux

Evariste-Désiré Parny, an eighteenth-century disciple of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, claimed that he had collected his poems from the noble savages of Madagascar. The fact they were actually Parny’s own invention but didn’t worry Ravel. They lent themselves perfetly to the terms of a generous commission from the American patron Mrs Sprague Coolidge - who required only that the new work should be scored for voice with an ensemble of flute, cello and piano - and they appealed to him both for their erotic and their political interest. Expressing his satisfaction with the Chansons madécasses after he had completed them in April, 1926, he declared that they “introduce something new, dramatic - indeed erotic - arising from the subject matter of Parny’s poems.”

The eroticism of Ravel’s music here is very different from his Shéhérazade songs written twenty-three years earlier. It is more calculated than instinctive, a matter of seduction by structure rather than by voluptuousness in line or harmony. The height of the physical intensity of the meeting of the lovers in Nahandove coincides with the height of complexity of the counterpoint. As for the political dimension, Ravel - who took it upon himself to add the dramatic opening exclamation of Auoa! to Parny’s text - seems to have been at least as passionate about the anti-colonial sentiments expressed here as about the physical attractions of Nahandove and her companions. Il est doux begins with a flute solo that is positively chaste in comparison with earlier Ravel examples but quite unique in its sensitively evocative combination with cello harmonics.

Nahandove

Aoua!

Il est doux

Like Debussy’s Chansons de Bilitis, Ravel’s Chansons madécasses (“Madagascan Songs”) are based on texts that are not what their author pretended they were. Evariste-Désiré Parny, an eighteenth-century disciple of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, published his poems with the false claim that he had collected them from the noble savages of Madagascar. But, again like Debussy, Ravel was concerned not so much with the authenticity of the texts as with their content. They lent themselves to the terms of a generous commission from the American patron Mrs Sprague Coolidge - who required only that the new work should be scored for voice with an ensemble of flute, cello and piano - and they appealed to him both for their erotic and their political interest. Expressing his satisfaction with the Chansons madécasses after he had completed them in April, 1926, he declared that they “introduce something new, dramatic - indeed erotic - arising from the subject matter of Parny’s poems.”

The eroticism of Ravel’s music here is very different from that of Debussy’s Chansons de Bilitis and, indeed, from that of Ravel’s own Shéhérazade songs written twenty-three years earlier. It is more calculated than instinctive, a matter of seduction by structure rather than by voluptuousness in line or harmony. The height of the physical intensity of the meeting of the lovers in Nahandove coincides with the height of complexity of the counterpoint. As for the political dimension, Ravel - who took it upon himself to add the dramatic opening exclamation of Auoa! to Parny’s text - seems to have been at least as passionate about the anti-colonial sentiments expressed here as about the physical attractions of Nahandove and her companions. Il est doux (“It is sweet”) begins with a flute solo that is positively chaste in comparison with earlier examples by Debussy and Ravel himself but quite unique in its sensitively evocative combination with cello harmonics.

Nahandove

Aoua!

Il est doux

Ravel’s Chansons madécasses are based on texts that are not what their author pretended they were. Evariste-Désiré Parny, an eighteenth-century disciple of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, published his poems with the false claim that he had collected them from the noble savages of Madagascar. But Ravel was concerned not so much with the authenticity of the texts as with their content. These “Madagascan Songs” lent themselves ideally to the terms of a generous commission from the American patron Mrs Sprague Coolidge – who required only that the new work should be scored for voice with an ensemble of flute, cello and piano – and they appealed to him for both their erotic and their political interest. Expressing his satisfaction with the Chansons madécasses after he had completed them in April 1926, he declared that they “introduce something new, dramatic – indeed erotic – arising from the subject matter of Parny’s poems.”

The eroticism of Ravel’s music here is very different from that of the Shéhérazade songs written twenty-three years earlier. It is more calculated than instinctive, a matter of seduction by structure rather than by voluptuousness in line or harmony. The height of the physical intensity of the meeting of the lovers in Nahandove coincides with the height of complexity of the counterpoint. As for the political dimension, Ravel – who took it upon himself to add the dramatic opening exclamation of Auoa! to Parny’s text – seems to have been at least as passionate about the anti-colonial sentiments expressed here as about the physical attractions of Nahandove and her companions.

Il est doux (“It is sweet”) begins with a flute solo that is positively chaste in comparison with earlier examples by Debussy, or earlier ones by Ravel himself, but quite unique in its sensitive combination with cello harmonics. Towards the end the erotic piccolo sound from the first song is gently recalled as the women dance to an exotically suggestive drumming in plucked harmonics on the cello and a dissonant strumming on the piano.

Nahandove

Aoua!

Il est doux

Like Debussy’s Chansons de Bilitis, Ravel’s Chansons madécasses (“Madagascan Songs”) are based on texts that are not what their author pretended they were. Evariste-Désiré Parny, an eighteenth-century disciple of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, claimed that he had collected his poems from the noble savages of Madagascar when, in fact, he had written them himself. Why Ravel chose to set these particular words, in response to a commission that allowed him a free choice of text, is not entirely clear. But, since he had been asked to score his songs for voice with an ensemble of flute, cello and piano, he must have felt that they were well suited to that instrumental combination. Although the erotic content of Nahandove and Il est doux also influenced his choice, he was probably more interested in the political element in Aoua!

Certainly, Aoua! was the first of the songs to be written. It was also the first to be performed, as a separate item in a private concert in the Hôtel Majestic in Paris – which was an incongruously civilised setting for a song fiercely proclaiming its anti-colonial message, “Do not trust the whites!” The other two songs gave him more trouble and, indeed, Ravel twice had to ask Mrs Sprague Coolidge, the American patron who had commissioned them, for more time. The cycle was completed, a year late, in April 1926.

Ravel was pleased with the Chansons madécasses. “They seem to me,” he said, “to introduce something new, dramatic – indeed erotic – arising from the subject matter of Parny’s poems.” He must have forgotten the erotic inspiration of his early cycle of songs with orchestra, Shéhérazade. What was really new here was the refined, calculated kind of eroticism in a score where opportunities for exotic colouring are confined within the limits of chamber music. As he said, “It is a sort of quartet where the voice is the principal instrument. Simplicity dominates.” Both Nahandove and Il est doux are delicately coloured with finely drawn contrapuntal lines and economical harmonies that exclude conventional images of voluptuousness.

The erotic element is obviously not excluded from the first song in the cycle – it is present in the lover’s fond repetitions of the melodious name of Nahandove and the gentle sighs of the piccolo – but it is expressed by quite other means than the sensuously curving lines and caressing instrumental textures of Shéhérazade.    The pulse quickens on the quietly percussive, discreetly urgent rhythm which is heard as Nahandove approaches and as the voice proclaims her arrival three times in ever widening melodic intervals. The height of the physical intensity of their meeting coincides with the height of complexity of the counterpoint.

The opening exclamation of Auoa! was added to Parny’s text by Ravel himself, who seems to have been at least as passionate about the political sentiments expressed here as about the physical attractions of Nahandove and her companions. After the initial assault of the voice allied with violent dissonances on the piano, the song begins to take shape as a lament with the sorrowing flute trapped between conflicting harmonies in the primitive rhythmic ostinato of the piano part. A second warning of “Do not trust the whites!” precedes a newly militant tattoo of drum beats on the piano and belligerent dance rhythms on the flute presaging victory over tyranny.

Il est doux (“It is sweet”) begins with a flute solo that is positively chaste in comparison with earlier examples by Debussy, or earlier ones by Ravel himself, but quite unique in its sensitive combination with cello harmonics. Towards the end the erotic piccolo sound from the first song is gently recalled as the women dance to an exotically suggestive drumming in plucked harmonics on the cello and a dissonant strumming on the piano. The last lines are also the last word in understatement.

Gerald Larner ©2007