Carnival of the Animals

poems by Ogden Nash

Introduction and Royal March of the Lion: Andante maestoso – Allegro non troppo

Hens and Cocks: Allegro moderato

Wild Asses (Swift Animals): Presto furioso

Tortoises: Andante maestoso

The Elephant: Allegretto pomposo

Kangaroos: Moderato

Aquarium: Andantino

Personages with long ears: Tempo ad lib

The Cuckoo deep in the woods: Andante

Aviary: Moderato grazioso

Pianists: Allegro moderato

Fossils: Allegro ridicolo

The Swan: Andantino grazioso

Finale: Molto allegro

If it is difficult to believe that the mighty “Organ” Symphony and the Carnival of the Animals were written by the same composer, it is even more difficult to believe that the two scores were written at much the same time. The Third Symphony, which had been commissioned by the Philharmonic Society in London, was hard, daunting work and it must have been a relief to turn to something less demanding. “You will tell me I should do better to work on the symphony,” he confessed to his publisher when he wrote to tell him he had turned his attention to a light-hearted entertainment for a Mardi Gras (Shrove Tuesday) concert in Paris. “You are right”, he went on, “but it is so amusing!”

In fact, the Carnival of the Animals was duly first performed on 9 March 1886 at a small music society known as La Trompette with Louis Diémer and Saint-Saëns himself at the two pianos and Charles Lebouc, the venerable cellist for whom it was written, playing the solo part in The Swan. It was performed again a few days later, at a private concert arranged for Franz Liszt, but nothing more was heard of it (except for one famous item) until 1922. Anxious not to lose his reputation as a serious composer, Saint-Saëns had forbidden publication of the work until after his death. The one exception he made was The Swan, which appeared in print almost immediately, attracting the attention not only of cellists everywhere but also of the dancer Anna Pavlova and her choreographer Michel Fokine who, misinterpreting it somewhat, created The Dying Swan from it. Originally scored for two pianos, flute, clarinet, glass harmonica, xylophone and string quintet, the Carnival of the Animals is usually heard these days with a larger ensemble of strings and a celesta or glockenspiel in place of the all-but obsolete glass harmonica. The poems by Ogden Nash were written in 1949 and are now frequently presented alongside the music which inspired them.

The danger in releasing the “Grand Zoological Fantasy” in the composer’s lifetime was that it would have had the public clamouring for others like it and perhaps even forcing more serious works out of the repertoire. There’s nothing particularly brilliant about the Introduction and Royal March of the Lion, appropriate though the modal march tune is and effective though the roaring surges of chromatic scales in the piano parts are. Farmyard sounds like those of Hens and Cocks had been part of the French tradition from Rameau onwards, while keyboard articulation like that of the swiftly moving Wild Asses (of Tibet) was not beyond the imagination of 18th century harpsichord composers either. But then there are the witty images of tortoise-like strings very slowly moving to the tune of the Can-Can from Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld, accompanied by piano harmonies he would normally have disallowed, and elephantine double basses (or just one) attempting the gossamer-like Ballet of the Sylphs from Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust.

Kangaroos briefly hop about on the two pianos and lead towards the Aquarium, which is a beautifully scored episode not far from the impressionism Saint-Saëns was supposed to dislike. Whether the Personages with long ears are to be taken at face value as donkeys or as symbols for music critics,which is not beyond belief, they certainly perform a grotesque exchange of hee-haws between first and second violins. However much the piano harmonies change in The Cuckoo deep in the woods, the stubborn bird (a clarinet, usually played offstage) refuses to change its tune. A more sympathetic avian contribution comes from an agile solo flute, encouraged by the pianos, in Aviary, which is followed by the anything but sympathetic and strongly discouraged beginner musicians in Pianists. The composer does not spare himself from parody: in Fossils Saint-Saëns recalls his own Danse macabre by way of its prominent xylophone coouring and one of its main themes. After attempting a contrapuntal development, it relapses into a selection of very familiar nursery tunes and ends, illogically but delightfully, with an echo on clarinet of Rosina’s aria “Una voce poco fa” from Rossini’s Barber of Seville. The next step is from the ridiculous Fossils to the sublime Swan and one of the most beautiful of all cello melodies, inspired not by the death of the majestic bird but by its natural grace and its effortless motion on the water.

The Finale combines the functions of a cheerful rondo with a recapitulation of the Introduction and some of the main tunes and most prominent personages from the foregoing carnival.

Gerald Larner © 2011