Ravel from Minnesota: Stan strikes again!

Ravel celebrations continue with this lovely disc from Stanisław Skrowaczewski's Minnesota years, original 1974 analogue Vox recordings. newly remastered from the original tapes.

The best compliment I can give the remastering (Andrew Walton) is that his is how we all wanted our Vox LPs to sound, but they never did. Not on my turntable back in the day, at least.

Here's the promo video:

Originally for piano, Ravel's Valses nobles et sentimentales, M. 61 was conceived in the manner of a Schubert group of waltzes (of which the are many). As Ravel's biographer Roland-Michel puts it (the booklet notes quote this write effectively and regularly):

A rather dry sensuality pervades the music – electric shivers and feline suppleness; these, and the sort of evil fate which pursues them – typical Baudelairean delights

The commission to orchestra the work came almost immediately after the piano pieces were sent out into the world. It was used as a ballet, and the full scenario (added by Ravel) is reprinted in the booklet notes - a reprint of the Vox original notes, and some of the best booklet annotation I have seen. Richard Freed is the author.

Valses nobles et sentimentales begins as if a blaze of light (a place to which it returns in the seventh and final waltz):

In between is a sequence of multi-faceted beauty. Skrowaczewski's achievement is to reveal these contrasts, so caring, so much attention to detail, culminating in the final “Épilogue,”marked“Lent” (slowly) and a rich statement of the beauty Ravel can conjure:

Mother Goose next: La mère de l'oye, M 62. Roland-Manuel again:

Because of its atmosphere of happiness, tender emotion, and refined poetry, it is a work whose charm and popularity are the result of a supreme simplicity which never leaves it for one moment.

Again originally for piano, when came time to create a ballet, Ravel supplemented the score appreciably. and that is what we have here: the ballet of 1911. This is a different atmosphere completely: from the heady, almost drug-fuelled abandon of Valses nobles, we find Ravel's evocation of childhood, so beautifully captured by Skrowaczewski and his Minnesotan forces. Here's the first tableau, “Danse du route et scène”. Andrew Walton's 2024 remastering of this 1974 recording is a marvel. Don't hesitate to buy the disc and put it though speakers/high-end headphones!:

Skrowaczewski sculpts the drama of “Les entretiens de la Belle et de la Bête” superbly:

Perhaps Skrowaczewski's finest achievement is in the fairy-tale world of “Laideronette,” the sheer technical perfection of the orchestra a servant to Ravel's imagined world of childhood:

The ballet ends with the gloriously beautiful “Apothéose: Le Jardin féerique” (some sterling solo string work here, too). As light and delicate as finest silk but growing to glowing climax, this is a dream:

Here on Classical Explorer we have considered one complete Daphnis et Chloé, (John Wilson and his Sinfonia of London on Chandos), and one concert performance (Suite No. 2 from the Royal College of Music: this post includes a stream of the entire concert, which included Tubin's double-bass concerto). This is not third time lucky, but third time even luckier. Here, we have the two Suites (1911 and 1912, respectively).

Ravel's intention here is less an evocation of Ancient Greece, but a ...

... vast musical fresco , lessscrupulous as to archaism than faithful to the Greece of my dreams, which inclined readily enough to what French artists of the late 18th century have imagined and depicted.

Suite No. 1, M. 57a, begins with a “Nocturne” of stunning dimensions. Only five minutes in clock time, but that's not what Skrowaczwski's performance tells us. This is utterly remarkable:

The St Olaf Choir joined the Minnesota Orchestra in “Interlude”. This is the choir of St Olaf College,Northfield, Minnesota (follow this link for more on the choir's history). The movement is a moment of haunting lm prior to the frenzied “Danse guerrière,” its Ravelian opposite:

When it comes to Suite No. 2, the “Lever du jour” (Sunrise) is beautifully calibrated, the music palpably rising with the sun. The level of detail audible is remarkable, too, while the wordless choir adds significantly to the experience:

“Pantomime” is gossamer light, on one level a showcase for the excellence of the Minnesotan strings, but Skrowaczewski takes us so much deeper:

There is a glowing grandeur to the opening of the “Danse générale,” supplanted by virtuoso orchestra playing of the very highest oder. There is no way the Minnesota Orchestra could be reneged to “middle league American orchestra” on this showing. At the the (still wordless!) choir is perfectly placed to act as an intriguing part of the overall texture:

Finally, Ravel's fanfare to the multi-composer ballet L'Eventail de Jeanne. old-Manuel again:

It is a Lilliputian flourish which begins like the buzzing of troops of insects and rises to its climax in the style of the Twilight of the Gods.

It begins with a drum roll. Unremarkable enough, except try Chandos' recording of this with Geoffrey Simon, and you'll see just how present a drumroll can be! Here in Minnesota, it is well-scaled, introducing the trumpets march-like fanfare. A lot of fun, and the perfect close to this wonderful disc:

Here's the Chandos:

A fine reminder of the stature of Skrowaczewski in his pre-Manchester years. This superb disc is available at Amazon here.