In commemoration of the 150th anniversary of Maurice Ravel’s birth, this evening’s concert by the National Symphony Orchestra offered a fitting tribute to the French master, with a programme entirely devoted to his work. While the piano, so central to Ravel’s output, was notably absent from the performance, several of the pieces were orchestrations of earlier piano works, such as the Ma mère l’Oye suite, La Valse and Alborada del gracioso. Two vocal works, Shéhérazade and Don Quichotte à Dulcinée, introduced an element of novelty and balance to the evening.
Under the baton of Speranza Scappucci, the orchestra’s performance sparkled with flair and finesse. The conductor’s careful attention to the orchestral palette brought out the full range of sound in each piece. She allowed the music to unfold calmly in the opening movement of Ma mère l’Oye. The liquid sound of the clarinet meandered over lazy triplets while the flute’s wispy melody caressed the ears. The lively outbursts of Tom Thumb were deftly handled by Scappucci while she imbued the final movement with a rich, swelling sound.
In Shéhérazade, Ravel’s fascination with Orientalism was evident, though his interest lay more in the atmosphere than in a literal representation of the tales from the Arabian Nights. Mezzo-soprano Julie Boulianne proved an able interpreter of this work, her dark-hued voice at its most impressive in the lower registers. Scappucci, mindful not to overpower the soloist, guided the orchestra through the piece’s fluctuating dynamics, building waves of tension and release with expert precision. Boulianne’s delivery of each “je voudrais” became progressively more intense, while in the second song, La flûte enchantée, she wove a captivating spell alongside the enchanting flute of the orchestra’s principal flautist. If I were to quibble, it would be that the third song, L’indifférent, did not carry the same seductive allure that I was hoping for.
La Valse is a grotesque, ironic twist on the traditional Viennese Waltz. Sardonic and sour, Scappucci ramped up the glissandos and offbeat accents to great effect. The garish, brash clash of the cymbals and excesses of the brass juxtaposed wonderfully with the diaphanous colours from the strings and harp. As the waltz becomes ever more distorted, both conductor and orchestra revelled in ripping the waltz apart.
The second half opened with the lively, boisterous account of Alborado del gracioso. Scappucci made this bubble over with good humour with its playful cross rhythms, offbeat accents and sudden changes in dynamics. Here the cheeky trumpet interjections with its fast repeated notes lacked clarity, but this was a minor concern in an interpretation full of verve and poise.
Pavane pour une infante défunte offered a moment of stillness, its simple, wistful melodies capturing some of Ravel’s most poignant writing. Unfortunately, some intonation issues in both the horn and woodwinds undermined the performance’s overall effectiveness.
The Don Quichotte songs, based on Cervantes' immortal character, offered a delightful contrast. Baritone Lionel Lhote’s performance was an engaging one, capturing the humour and pathos of the deluded knight with charm and vitality. In Chanson épique, Lhote’s vocal projection on the top notes was commendable, while in the Chanson à boire, he brought mischievousness to the drunken slurring of words, delighting in the absurdity of the scene.
Finally, the evening concluded with the perennial crowd-pleaser Bolero, a piece Ravel himself described as "15 minutes of orchestration without music". While the repetitive ostinato can induce a kind of hypnotic trance, it is hard to deny the magnetic pull of this work. The rhythmic propulsion remained relentless, and if anyone deserved a bouquet at the end, it was surely the indefatigable drummer who brought the piece to its thunderous climax.
