Behold Maurice Ravel's best known and some lesser known yet wonderfull works.
Nearly complete Stage, Piano, Orchestral & Chamber Works… Missing some of the shorter choral & vocal works.
Orchestral works by: Orchestre de le Suisse Romande directed by Armin Jordan with various soloists…
Will be updated regularily until complete.
The name of Henri Dutilleux (1916–2013) is associated above all with orchestral music. His international reputation originated with the Second Symphony, ‘Le Double’ (premièred in 1959) and was confirmed by works such as Métaboles and the cello concerto Tout un monde lointain… But what about before that? In the centennial year of the composer's birth, the Orchestre National des Pays de la Loire and Pascal Rophé present a programme which focusses on works composed before 1954, and offers the opportunity to discover a less familiar but by no means negligible side of Dutilleux's creative activity: songs and music for the theatre and film. Several of the works on this disc are recorded for the first time in these versions, or indeed at all.
New Naïve signing baritone Stéphane Degout has already featured as soloist with the internationally renowned choral group Accentus on Brahms' German Requiem and Fauré's Requiem. The programme on his solo debut CD is a selection of mélodies by various French composers, Debussy, Ravel, Duparc, Saint-Saëns, Chabrier, and Reynaldo Hahn. Stéphane Degout first met pianist Hélène Lucas when he entered the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique de Lyon in 1995.
The violin and piano sonatas of Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel draw on foreign idioms: gypsy music in Debussy's case and African-American blues in Ravel's. But they remain completely French works, spiced with something exotic, and British violinist Jennifer Pike forges interpretations that keep this in mind. Start with the "Blues" slow movement of the Ravel Violin Sonata in G major: Pike and her accompanist, Martin Roscoe, avoid exaggerating the bluesy qualities of the music and instead emphasize the odd, almost tense disconnection between violin and piano that, combined with the languid blues melodies, gives this piece its special piquancy.
Martha Argerich’s Ravel G major was for so long a reference recording that it’s easy to forget how idiosyncratic it actually is. I wouldn’t actually blame anyone who found it too garish in its colouring, with its volatility giving diminishing returns and its rubato too predictably appassionato for a sensibility as dapper as Ravel’s. Such a person might well find exactly what they want in Steven Osborne’s account, which is masterful in its own way but essentially self-effacing.
If anybody is, then Zoltán Kocsis is truly a musical artist in the Renaissance sense: he explores ever greater areas of his profession, and takes possession of new realms. Initially, we looked on with incomprehension, asking why as a pianist of genius, he did not devote himself exclusively to his instrument. Why was he dissipating his creative energies is so many fields: teaching, conducting, writing essays, creating concert programs, forming societies and building an orchestra – and of course, there was his composition as well. But these days, we really have to acknowledge that with Kocsis, this is not some sporting achievement, but utilising the Wagnerian term – a kind of “Gesamtkunstwerk” activity.