In Ravel’s 150th anniversary, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet arrived at Alice Tully Hall with an ambitious proposition: the complete solo piano works in a single evening. Few pianists attempt it, and even fewer shape the cycle with such clarity of line, rhythmic finesse and control of colour. On paper, the programme was meant to proceed chronologically, though the actual performance allowed a few non-essential deviations. Heard in Bavouzet’s hands, the music unfolded as a coherent whole, revealing an internal logic often lost in more fragmented approaches. His long familiarity with this repertoire was evident from the start.
From the first bars, Bavouzet demonstrated that Ravel’s early works already carry his distinctive voice. Sérénade grotesque, fashioned with taut articulation and a lightly ironic touch, revealed dissonances, Spanish inflections and hints of jazzy phrasing well avant la lettre. The Menuet antique followed with elegant solidity, its stylised grace already pointing toward his later neoclassicism. In the Pavane pour une infante défunte, the long line unfolded with simplicity and calm, its restraint foreshadowing the understated elegance of Ravel’s mature style.
The shift into Jeux d’eau expanded the palette, marking the point where Debussy’s influence begins to register in Ravel’s piano writing: freer harmonic suspensions, more fluid pedalling and touches of modal colour. Bavouzet acknowledged these expanded possibilities without overemphasising them, keeping textures transparent and the harmonic line in view while bringing out the music’s ludic character. In the Sonatine, he maintained the same balance of elegance and moderation, shaping the Allegro fluently, giving the Minuet measured poise and letting the Finale move lightly yet precisely
If the shorter pieces offered moments of distilled character, the four larger suites revealed the full depth of Bavouzet’s approach, balancing structural clarity with vivid imagery. In Miroirs, nothing sounded monotonous. Noctuelles flickered with nervous light, its restless figures held in taut balance. Oiseaux tristes retreated into a hushed, far-off solitude that subtly prefigured Messiaen. In Une barque sur l’océan, long arcs were punctuated by sudden crests breaking with full force. Alborada del gracioso had sharply etched rhythm and clean articulation.
After the first interval, Bavouzet treated the eight movements of the Valses nobles et sentimentales as a continuous sequence, letting their contrasts speak for themselves. The outward numbers took on a crisp lightness; the inward ones gained depth through subtle shifts of colour rather than rubato. The Epilogue was particularly affecting in its quiet sense of distance and fading light.
Gaspard de la nuit served as the programme’s psychological and technical fulcrum. Ondine flowed radiantly, its voluptuousness held in check. Le Gibet unfolded with remarkable steadiness, the repeated B flat tolling with hypnotic consistency while eerie inner voices glowed around it. In Scarbo, Bavouzet favoured controlled volatility: the caesurae were full of tension, and each eruption along the relentlessly ascending path was precisely placed. The movement’s drama came from pacing, not sheer force.
After the taut drama of Gaspard, Le Tombeau de Couperin felt a touch anticlimactic. Bavouzet kept the writing lean and the rhythms buoyant, letting the suite’s neoclassical profile emerge naturally. Navigating from the Prélude’s quicksilver agility through the Forlane’s understated lilt to the Toccata’s effortless propulsion, he drew the official programme to a spirited close.
But that was not all. As an encore, Bavouzet turned to the solo piano reduction of La Valse, whose brutal modernism and ground-shifting harmonic destabilisation sounded even more volatile on the piano than in its orchestral guise. He met the work’s ferocious demands, its surges and collapses, with unflinching control and an intensity one could scarcely imagine he still had in reserve.
This concert was presented by the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center.
