Sarabande
et Danse.

Despite the 1907 press cabal surrounding the Histoires naturelles, and the eagerness of certain partisan critics to set Ravel against Debussy — casting the younger man either as a naïve epigone or, conversely, as a dangerous rebel defying his elder —, the two great representatives of the French school had been able to express their mutual admiration as early as 1901¹. Ravel never ceased to proclaim his deep love for L'Après-midi d'un faune, which was meant to accompany his own funeral procession. Debussy — he of the “difficult temper” and the “friendly telling-off”, according to Ricardo Viñes —, though he could at times grumble sharply at Ravel the “Apache”, once again in 1913 over the double settings of Soupir and Placet futile, encouraged his young colleague with conviction. From the discovery and practice of the piano repertoire², the shock of the revelation of Pelléas, the commissions to reduce orchestral works — the Nocturnes and the Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune —, to the dedication of the Sonata for Violin and Cello³, Ravel knew what he owed Debussy and said so without reservation⁴.

The circumstances of the 1922 orchestration of the Sarabande and the Danse have almost escaped historiography. While we know who commissioned the great orchestral undertaking of that same year, Pictures at an Exhibition, we still do not know who launched the posthumous idea of bringing another Debussy work to the orchestra. Could it have come from Paul Paray, who would conduct the premiere? Fortunately, alongside the surviving orchestral manuscript, there is a bundle of correspondence from Maurice Ravel to Jean Jobert — in that direction only —, the Parisian publisher having had the inspired idea of keeping the eleven letters and the card exchanged between 1922 and 1928 about this work⁵. The very young firm “Jean Jobert Fromont”, at 44 rue du Colisée in Paris, which also published Paul Paray's compositions, had been founded in 1921, and in 1922 its director had acquired the Fromont catalogue and its Debussy works⁶.

The first letter suggests that Ravel received a commission while he was immersed in orchestrating Pictures at an Exhibition. On 8 June he replied to Jobert⁷ in a formal tone — the publisher's initial letter is unknown: “Sir, Allow me to postpone my answer for a few days. Whatever pleasure I would take in orchestrating these two pieces, and especially the Sarabande, I wish first to be authorised to do so by Madame Claude Debussy. (…)” On the 26th of the same month, Ravel wrote again, proposing a meeting, asking whether the publisher had a telephone, and announcing good news: “Having Madame Debussy's authorisation (…)”. On 15 October — freed from the Mussorgsky orchestration, premiered four days later at the Paris Opéra —, he wrote optimistically: “Dear Sir, I hope to be able to give you the orchestration of the Sarabande and the Danse before the end of this month – around the 25th – (…)”. The expected schedule did not hold: on the two separate manuscripts, written in ink, the completion dates follow the composer's signature after the final bar of each piece: “November 1922” for the Sarabande and “December 1922” for the Danse.

About a month before the premiere — on 18 March 1923 at the Salle Gaveau in Paris, by the Orchestre Lamoureux under Paul Paray —, Ravel wrote to Jobert on 8 February:

“Dear Sir,

You will receive the corrected proofs, registered, by the same post. They gave me a great deal of trouble. Not that the engraver did not take enough care. On the contrary: what made me lose the most time were the indications à 2, solo, unis, div., needlessly repeated at every page turn. This does nothing to help the reader, who may assume that the solo or à 2 begins on that page, and it can only complicate the extraction of the parts.

A double error – mine first, then the engraver's – will require at least a partial re-engraving of page 23 (bassoons forgotten, horns and bassoons placed instead of trumpets and horns).

At no. [a figure 42 crossed out – with an addition:], I no longer remember, a fortunate engraving error [addition:] – in the harp – (G sharp instead of G natural) drew my attention to a wrong change of key signature. This key signature must be moved further on, as I have indicated.

On the penultimate page (no. 42), I have restored Debussy's indication crotchet = crotchet and added poco alargando, which was certainly the composer's intention.

I believe that the opening tempo [of the Danse]: dotted crotchet = 144, which I set with the metronome, will at last be the right one.

Believe me, dear Sir, most devotedly yours
Maurice Ravel”

As for the metronome marking of this brisk Styrian dance, our work on the Ravel corpus has taught us that when Ravel specified a tempo — something unusual for him, many such markings, absent from the manuscripts, having been added by his publisher Durand —, it was because he anticipated a possible misreading. In the case of the Danse, he had first written dotted crotchet = 120, which respects Debussy's Allegretto, and then asked for a change — written in red correcting ink on his manuscript, as proposed in his letter.

Two weeks later, on 21 February, he wrote again to Jean Jobert, possibly in answer to a proposal to register the orchestration with an authors' society: “Dear Sir, I see no objection; but I very much doubt that these tempo indications and these 3 or 4 corrections are enough for copyright. Still, you can always try… Would you kindly let me know a few days in advance about the rehearsal on the 15th⁸. (…)” A few days after the premiere, on 23 March, Ravel wrote to thank Jobert. As a postscript, he noted in the margin: “For the opening tempo of the “danse”, simply write Paray's, which seemed right to me⁹”.

The correspondence also bears witness to local premieres conducted by the composer, who — judging by how often he programmed it — enjoyed conducting his orchestration. On 14 April 1924, Ravel wrote: “It is agreed, then: I conduct the “Sarabande” and “Danse” in Madrid on 5 May. Please be so kind as to send the material to the Sociedad Filarmónica de Madrid; Carretas, 27 y 29. Madrid”. On 21 February 1927: “Sarabande and Danse went well in Lyon. In the first I discovered a mistake that had escaped me until now: at no. 9 [harp; score and part], a treble clef is missing in the left hand and consequently a bass clef four bars later. I must believe that the players corrected it instinctively, otherwise I would have to resign myself to composing a 9th Symphony”¹⁰.

On 22 April 1926, Ravel wrote “(…) Enclosed the signed sheet (…)”, without our knowing what the document was: a registration form or another annex to a publishing contract? On 5 September 1926, an “exotic” postcard sent from Montfort-l'Amaury, showing the “Druid stones” of Kertugal-Saint-Quay, tells us nothing beyond the friendly relations between the composer and his other publisher. The same goes for the last surviving letter in the file, dated 27 August 1928, in which Ravel congratulates Jobert on the birth of a child, adding: “(…) I am myself waiting to be delivered of a “Bolero” that I have promised Ida Rubinstein for mid-October”. A favourite score of the orchestrator, the Sarabande et Danse was regularly programmed by Ravel in the concerts he conducted — among others, on 2 February 1926 in Copenhagen, and during his triumphant 1928 tour of the United States, in January with the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

As for the premiere¹¹, given during the Concerts Lamoureux season on Sunday 18 March 1923 at the Salle Gaveau under Paul Paray, the press reviews include the following:

• “(…) Debussy's Sarabande and Danse, orchestrated by M. Maurice Ravel, very well orchestrated indeed, especially the Danse, but in a somewhat less striking and less original manner than I had hoped (…)”¹²
• “(…) There was curiosity about M. Maurice Ravel's orchestration of two pianistic pieces by Debussy, Sarabande and Danse. They are as little suited to the orchestra as can be. Hearing them, one would not believe it! The second above all, despite performance difficulties the audience barely suspects, has an astonishing brilliance. It was almost encored (…)”¹³
• “(…) Despite the consummate and delightfully varied skill of M. Ravel's instrumentation, they suffer somewhat, in my view, from this change of purpose (…)”¹⁴
• “(…) M. Maurice Ravel did very well to orchestrate Debussy's Sarabande, using trumpet and horns with exquisite art. How soft and supple he has made this fabric of fifths! The Danse was even more successful, because the orchestration is astonishingly varied, shaken by syncopated pizzicati, ever-moving, full of surprises, leaping from one instrumental group to another with a quick, decisive bound (…)”¹⁵

Unfortunately, apart from a leaflet announcing the concert, no programme of that matinée survives that might have explained the posthumous transfer of these two pieces to the orchestra — neither in the historical collection of the Orchestre Lamoureux nor at the BnF, despite its extensive holdings from Paul Paray's years at the head of this Parisian orchestra so closely linked to Ravel's name. Which still leaves open our initial question: what prompted this other orchestration project, a tribute to Ravel's first musical loves…