Program Notes for Ravel’s “L’Enfant et les Sortilege”

Written for a performance by New England Conservatory’s Undergraduate Opera Studio on March 3 & 4, 2009, 8pm, Brown Hall.

Full Disclosure: I sang Fire/Nightingale.

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L’Enfant et les Sortileges by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) and libretto written by poet Colette premiered in 1926 at the Monte Carlo Opera under the baton of Victor de Sabata with choreography from a very young Balanchine.  Ravel began composing the opera soon after he received the libretto from Colette in 1918. The public favorably received the opera, and it was soon being performed to packed houses in Paris, London and much of Europe. However, the opera did not receive its American debut until 1981 at the Metropolitan Opera. L’Enfant et les Sortileges counts itself among Ravel’s post-war works that emphasize bolder harmonic formulation, exoticism of the natural world, and fantasy.

 

At first glance, the opera divides into two scenes, one in the child’s room with furniture and the second in the garden outside the house with forest creatures, but Ravel’s musical structure does not rest on theatrical conventions. The piece opens with what appears to be directionless undulations outlining a pentatonic scale in 4ths and 5ths, and Ravel gives the passage structure by reiterating portions at the entrance of the child and at the mother’s entrance. Similarly, Ravel reiterates moments of tonality throughout the opera in order to show changes in the child’s character from rage to compassion and remorse. The child’s monologue in E flat major following his encounter with the princess—in sharp contrast with strong preceding passages of bitonality and modalism—begins to show a tender interiority in the child as he laments that he cannot defend the princess against the forces of darkness. Moreover, as the child cries “Mama!” before the final ensemble on a descending 4^th, the animals crudely imitate this interval, first introduced in the undulating, opening prelude and strategically strewn throughout the opera. Finally, the child and the animals find common ground in a stable, hymn-like, G major fugue.

As the opera progresses, the text becomes more and more onomatopoeic with utterances such as “Meow!” from the cats and “Ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki” from the frogs. Ravel also abandons text entirely at points in order to insert dances, such as those of the cinders interpolated into the Fire Aria. One would surmise that Ravel wanted to give his audience a break from the potentially alienating language of L’Enfant et les Sortileges—such as that exemplified by the grossly imitated Chinese-language of the teacup and teapot—but he did no such thing. Instead, Ravel uses these breaks to refocus attention on aural allusions to other “musical beasts”. The Frog Dance particularly has references to his works La Valse and Valses Nobles et Sentimentales.

 

Whereas Ravel’s harmonic language and formal structures may have been bold, his adept handling of these devices shows awareness of compositional practice and tradition. For example, the sofa and the armchair dance to a stunted, French, minuet pattern from; birdsong—foreshadowing Messiaen—punctuates the garden scenes; and the child’s monologue “You, the heart of the rose” following his encounter with the princess evokes Massenet’s “Adieu, notre petite table” from Manon. These examples also demonstrate Ravel’s stylistic tendency to breathe child-like energy into more esoteric “classical” compositions. At no time does the musical content of the opera intimate that the child’s character acquires more sophistication than his natural, fantastic surroundings. Ravel tended to not only utilize but also parody contemporary French trends, such as exoticism. In the duet between teapot and teacup, Ravel mocked France’s trendy obsession with the far east following the 1889 Paris Exhibition by parodying a so-called Chinese melody with a vaudevillian melody rooted in familiar words and harmonic clichés.

 

Similarly, Ravel’s handling of lush instrumentation in L’Enfant et les Sortileges avoids gratuitous instrumentation, even in its fully orchestrated form. At times Ravel pours forth sound from the orchestra, such as the transition from the house to the garden scene, and at other instances relies on simple two part writing—such as between princess and the flute—showing his dedication to creating color through purposeful orchestral gestures.

 

Ravel’s L’Enfant et les Sortileges exemplifies the fantasy of childhood with a rich and engaging musical composition, and while one can easily enjoy the opera for both aesthetics, I encourage you to get in touch with your own inner child full of rebellion, rage, empathy, compassion and wonder. What does the music bring out in you?