I know you took this question back, but as you've probably guessed, Impressionist music is one of my favorite subjects, which I very rarely get a chance to discuss, so I hope you don't mind if I answer it anyway. *g*
1. I know you love Ravel and one of my favorite pieces is "Pavane Pour Une Infante Defuntée" by Ravel. I love classical music but very haphazardly so, and I *know* nothing about it. So can you teach me something about that piece now, besides the fact that it's sad, slow and pretty? :) (Of course, now you're going to tell me that this is the one piece of Ravel that you really can't stand... *g*)
Heh, no. It's not my favorite, but I do like it. I'm no expert in music analysis and theory, but I can give you my take on the piece.
Pavane pour une infante défunte is one of Ravel's earlier works, composed while he was still studying at the Conservatoire. The title is transparent -- it's usually translated "Pavane for a Dead Princess", which I think it literally was, though I'm not sure which princess. A pavane is dance music, though a very slow and courtly dance. I'm fairly certain that the piece is about grieving.
It starts out with a traditional-sounding melody, which is very orderly, though sad. It goes where you expect for a few bars, but then hesitates and breaks into these deep, passionate triplet chords, like sobs. Then the piece pulls itself together and becomes more orderly again, returning to the slow dance-like rhythm, only to break down a second time. This pattern repeats several times, with variations in structure and intensity. The calmer stretches are sometimes sweet and nostalgic as well as sad. The "sobs" sometimes have muffled echoes of dissonance -- the only noticeable dissonance in an otherwise very harmonic piece.
It strikes me as a vignette rather than a story; it doesn't build to a climax, it just ends. It's a portrait of grief: The face of socially acceptable mourning you put forth to the world, and the happy memories you have of the person you've lost -- combined with the more raw, private anguish that others don't see.
The feelings expressed are strong, but not extremely complex. It's just wishing a person you love were still here -- grief untainted by guilt or lingering resentment. So, although it is sad, it also has an innocence that's very appealing. It makes for an interesting contrast with some of Ravel's later, darker works.
I listened to this piece several times while I was writing this, over my lunch break. I actually grew to like it more and more, the closer I listened and the more I thought about it. My co-workers may have thought it was a little strange that I played it so many times in a row, though. ;)
1. I know you love Ravel and one of my favorite pieces is "Pavane Pour Une Infante Defuntée" by Ravel. I love classical music but very haphazardly so, and I *know* nothing about it. So can you teach me something about that piece now, besides the fact that it's sad, slow and pretty? :) (Of course, now you're going to tell me that this is the one piece of Ravel that you really can't stand... *g*)
Heh, no. It's not my favorite, but I do like it. I'm no expert in music analysis and theory, but I can give you my take on the piece.
Pavane pour une infante défunte is one of Ravel's earlier works, composed while he was still studying at the Conservatoire. The title is transparent -- it's usually translated "Pavane for a Dead Princess", which I think it literally was, though I'm not sure which princess. A pavane is dance music, though a very slow and courtly dance. I'm fairly certain that the piece is about grieving.
It starts out with a traditional-sounding melody, which is very orderly, though sad. It goes where you expect for a few bars, but then hesitates and breaks into these deep, passionate triplet chords, like sobs. Then the piece pulls itself together and becomes more orderly again, returning to the slow dance-like rhythm, only to break down a second time. This pattern repeats several times, with variations in structure and intensity. The calmer stretches are sometimes sweet and nostalgic as well as sad. The "sobs" sometimes have muffled echoes of dissonance -- the only noticeable dissonance in an otherwise very harmonic piece.
It strikes me as a vignette rather than a story; it doesn't build to a climax, it just ends. It's a portrait of grief: The face of socially acceptable mourning you put forth to the world, and the happy memories you have of the person you've lost -- combined with the more raw, private anguish that others don't see.
The feelings expressed are strong, but not extremely complex. It's just wishing a person you love were still here -- grief untainted by guilt or lingering resentment. So, although it is sad, it also has an innocence that's very appealing. It makes for an interesting contrast with some of Ravel's later, darker works.
I listened to this piece several times while I was writing this, over my lunch break. I actually grew to like it more and more, the closer I listened and the more I thought about it. My co-workers may have thought it was a little strange that I played it so many times in a row, though. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 02:51 pm (UTC)I put on the piece earlier today, after reading your thoughts on it. You definitely put words to my more general feelings about it. I'd never thought of those chords as sobs, but it's so true--it really fits your description. And that thing about it being appealing in its innocence: the sadness in it has an almost luxurious feeling in it I think, like giving in to tears.
Thanks again, I truly appreciate it! (And also, thanks for your questions to me, they are great and I look forward to digging into them.)
no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 08:13 pm (UTC)Yes, good observation. I feel that too. It's a cleansing grief, not a festering one.
What are some of your other favorites? I'm curious how much your tastes overlap with mine.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-21 03:57 pm (UTC)Okay, here's my shortlist (it turned out rather long, in fact *g*) of favorites--but bear in mind that I'm not really informed about classical music; I love to listen to it, but my knowledge about it is full of holes! (As an illustration of this, I had to look up a page on classical music to see where my favorites actually fell into the different musical epochs. :)
Of the earlier composers, I love Vivaldi's Four Seasons, particularly Winter--also some of his other works. Love Händel's Water Music, and some of Bach's smaller pieces.
I like the classicists. You could put on almost anything by Haydn, Mozart, and especially Beethoven, and I'll be happy. I adore Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusic, and Beethoven's symphonies. Beethoven's passion really, literally brings tears to my eyes.
But I guess you'll find most of my favorite works among the composers of the 19th and early 20th century: Mendelssohn, Saint-Saëns, Offenbach, Elgar, Léhar, Sarasate, Paganini, Glazunov, Borodin, Rachmaninoff, Debussy... etc, etc, etc.
As for Ravel, in addition to the Pavane, I have his Valses Nobles et Sentimentales and like them very much. Also the Rhapsodie Espagnole. I love his Bolero too, even though it's become something of a musical cliché--which isn't Ravel's fault!
Of later composers, I like Sibelius especially and also Shostakovich, although my knowledge of them is rather scattered--but I'd like to listen to more of their works.
I do have a weakness for the ear-catchingly melodic and the delicate-intricate--and I have a special love for the violin and string music in general.
So, after I gave you all these names, surely there must be *some* overlap? :)
no subject
Date: 2003-06-24 11:18 pm (UTC)Me too, actually. I started out not knowing a damn thing about classical music, but I started listening to the local classical station at work, which has a feature on their web page where you can cross-reference what's currently playing to a biography of the composer. And it turned out that almost every time I heard a piece that really caught my attention, I'd check the web site and find out that it was from the late nineteenth or early twentieth century.
I share your liking for Mendelssohn, Debussy, and definitely Saint-Saëns. His Le carnaval des animaux is always a pleasure (and doesn't the seventh part, "Aquarium", remind you of the theme from the Harry Potter movies?) -- I have it on a CD with Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf, which makes for a fun combination.
I'm just starting to get into Fauré -- I recently heard one of his Pavanes on the radio and was so captivated that I had to immediately drop what I was doing to listen. I'd seen his name before, of course: Ravel's Berceuse sur le nom de Gabriel Fauré!
I have a special love for the violin and string music in general.
I tend to listen primarily to solo piano and piano concertos, since that's my own instrument of choice, but string music does have a heartbreaking quality that's hard to explain. I love the cello; I wish I could play it. A friend of mine once said that the cello made him think of the boards of an ancient ship creaking as it rocked on the water, which I thought was right on.
Are you a musician yourself? Just curious.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-26 12:11 am (UTC)Oh yes, it is! My Dad's got the "Carnaval". It's very evocative and fun (and of course "Le Cygne" is an amazing little piece). Never thought about the music for the Harry Potter movies in that context, but what you say does strike a bell--now I'll have to put the film on and listen to them both for comparison. :) I love Saint-Saëns' "Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso", too, which I have on cassette with Itzhak Perlman--so cheeky and light-hearted.
Your comments have made me curious about Fauré and Satie. I'm going to borrow a couple of CD's from the library next time I'm in town. :)
I don't play an instrument myself--I wish! I'd love to be able to play the violin or the classical guitar, in particular. But in general, I'm very content to be just a listener. :)