“The Fantastic Whirl of Destiny” Ravel’s La Valse

 

“The Fantastic Whirl of Destiny” Ravel’s La Valse

by Frances Wilson  July 4th, 2019

What is Ravel’s La Valse about? Is it a portrait of the disintegration of decadent pre-First War Europe, the dying embers of the Belle Epoque? Or simply a rollicking dance, a sensuous hommage to the Viennese Waltz?

Viennese Waltz

Ravel completed La Valse in 1920, two years after the end of the First World War (in which he served as a truck driver on the Verdun front, an experience which caused him deep distress). It was not the first piece he wrote inspired by the Viennese waltzes of the Strauss family, and indeed in 1905 he had begun to sketch Wien (Vienna), a tribute to Johann Strauss the Younger, which he saw as “. . . a kind of apotheosis of the Viennese waltz, with which is mingled in my mind the idea of the fantastic whirl of destiny”. Meanwhile, his 1911 Valses nobles et sentimentales were intended as an affectionate tribute to the “useless occupation” of social dancing, an activity which also afforded men and women the opportunity to interact erotically in the public arena of the ballroom.

But by 1919 everything had changed, the composer himself profoundly affected by his wartime experiences. Vienna was a city shattered by war, in the grip of famine, and the waltz a bitter, poignant reminder of a vanished era. The impresario Sergei Diagheilev requested Ravel write La Valse, but it wasn’t the work he expected and he refused to stage it, claiming it was “not a ballet” but “a portrait of a ballet”. Ravel published the piece as a “choreographic poem for orchestra”, and the first performance of the orchestral version was in December 1920 in Paris. The work was eventually danced in Antwerp in 1926 by Ida Rubenstein’s troupe (which also premiered Ravel’s Bolero).

Ravel: La Valse

Maurice Ravel

Marked “mouvement de Valse viennoise”, its origins clearly stated at the outset, the work presents a portrait of waltzing couples in a beautiful chandelier-lit ballroom. Deeply nostalgic and replete with extravagantly voluptuous Straussian episodes, the waltz distorts and dissolves with percussive climaxes and portentous rumblings. Each return of the waltz seems more vehement, with greater rhythmic and harmonic excess and dissonance as the genre is extended into a final devastating, hallucinatory explosion, and the distintegration of the waltz itself. The symbolism seems obvious to our 21st-century sensibilities: La Valse is a musical portrait of a decadent civilization out of control, tearing itself apart in conflict.

But Ravel denied the work had any symbolic meaning, describing it as “a dancing, whirling, almost hallucinatory ecstasy, an increasingly passionate and exhausting whirlwind of dancers, who are overcome and exhilarated by nothing but ‘the waltz.’”

***

Ravel transcribed the orchestral version for two pianos and piano solo, and the very first performance of the work was actually given in its two-piano form, with Ravel as one of the performers.

Here a pianist friend of mine, who plays in a piano duo, reflects on the experience of learning and performing La Valse:

“Learning the two-piano version of La Valse was a treat. When Neil first suggested that we learn La Valse, I thought it might be beyond us, but we both worked hard at our parts over several months, and to our amazement it gradually came together…

As for performing La Valse, the orchestral version is of course familiar from many recordings and concerts, and in the back of one’s mind is the sound of the different instruments in Ravel’s orchestration. At first I felt very conscious of how the cellos and double basses, the two harps, the brass, or the woodwind, would sound at different points in the score.

But in fact as a pianist, you can enjoy being yourself in this music, without needing to mimic an orchestra all the time: the richness of Ravel’s two-piano sound provides plenty of tonal palette to work with, and much of the pleasure of learning the piece was learning to exploit to the full the contrasts in sound that one can achieve. We enjoyed the challenge of handing melodies from one piano to the other, trying to make the dynamics merge seamlessly between two instruments, learning to be really hushed and mysterious, or hushed and threatening, and conjuring the lilt of the Viennese waltz rhythm.

The final few pages certainly are extraordinary, as the waltz music seems to disintegrate into fragments and accelerates towards a wild climax. As a pair of pianists, you have to hold your nerve, and careful preparation was really essential to be confident that our parts would really fit together and not fall to bits. It was a balance between being accurate and careful, but somehow also letting caution fly to the winds to convey a sense of whirling excitement. In fact, of course, as so often in piano music, the trick was to be really on top of the part, so that you just knew that it would work every time: then you could remain calm and in control, but grasping the music with determination and energy so that the audience felt gripped and excited, not us!”. Julian Davis

“Through whirling clouds, waltzing couples may be faintly distinguished. The clouds gradually scatter: one sees […] an immense hall peopled with a whirling crowd. The scene is gradually illuminated. The light of the chandeliers bursts forth […]. Set in an imperial court, about 1855.” Maurice Ravel

Whatever one’s interpretation of La Valse, there is no doubt Ravel masterfully achieves his vision in the music.

Ravel at 150: A Legacy of Innovation

by Georg Predota 

Maurice Ravel

150 years ago, on 7 March 1875, the small village of Ciboure in the Basque region of France saw the birth of Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). Son of a Swiss engineer and a Basque mother, Ravel would become one of the most significant and innovative composers of the early 20th century, bridging the late Romantic tradition and the modernist impulses of his time.

Initially trained at the Paris Conservatoire, his music reflected a cosmopolitan sensibility, imbued with meticulous craftsmanship that earned him a reputation as a “musical jeweller.”

His oeuvre is characterised by its diversity and technical brilliance in a compositional style that often juxtaposes clarity and complexity. Revealing an almost obsessive attention to detail that frequently belies the effortless beauty of his melodies, Ravel’s music conveys a profound emotional restraint that often masks deeper sentiments beneath a polished surface.

As we celebrate his 150th birthday, we honour a composer whose masterful blend of innovation, emotional depth, and extraordinary craftsmanship forever shaped the landscape of classical music.

Maurice Ravel: Gaspard de la nuit 

Formative Years

“Throughout my childhood,” Maurice Ravel once said, “I was sensitive to music. My father, much better educated in this art than most amateurs are, knew how to develop my taste and to stimulate my enthusiasm at an early age.” Maurice was deeply devoted to his mother, and his earliest memories involved her singing folk songs to him. He did not receive any formal schooling at an early age, but the family’s small apartment in Paris did house a piano.

Encouraged by his father, Maurice began piano lessons with Henry Ghys and soon demonstrated an extraordinary ear, improvising and composing small pieces even before formal training fully took hold. His teacher later recalled that “his conception of music is natural to him and not, as in the case of so many others, the result of effort.” By age 14, Ravel entered the Paris Conservatoire, initially as a piano student, but his true passion soon shifted toward composition.

Maurice Ravel: Shéhérazade 

Formal Education

Ravel and his parents

Ravel’s relationship with the Conservatoire, according to scholars, “was marked by his independent spirit and refusal to adhere to its rigid expectations.” The young student found his inspiration outside of formal education, particularly from the 1889 Paris Exhibition and the cultural atmosphere of the time.

During these formative years, Ravel befriended fellow student Ricardo Viñes, a Spanish pianist who introduced him to Iberian music and avant-garde ideas, further broadening his horizons. He explored a wide range of musical and literary influences, including the works of composers like Satie, Debussy, and Chabrier, as well as writers such as Poe and Mallarmé. In fact, Ravel became part of a creative group called “Les Apaches” (The Hooligans) in the early 1900s, which fostered collaboration among artists, musicians, and writers.

Maurice Ravel: Rapsodie espagnole 

First Performances

When Ravel conducted the first performance of his Shéhérazade overture in 1897, he was called a “mediocrely gifted debutant.” Two years later he composed his first piece to become widely known, the Pavane pour une infante défunte. One way or another, Ravel appeared calmly indifferent to blame or praise. The only opinion of his music that he truly valued was his own, as he was a “perfectionist and severely self-critical.”

Maurice Ravel’s Sheherazade

At age 20, as biographer Burnett James reports, “Ravel was self-possessed, a little aloof, intellectually biased, and given to mild banter. He dressed like a dandy and was meticulous about his appearance and demeanour.” He continued to struggle at the Conservatoire, failing to secure the Prix de Rome despite multiple attempts between 1901 and 1905. However, his time there under Gabriel Fauré’s tutelage “honed his craft and instilled a lifelong devotion to clarity and refinement.”

Maurice Ravel: Pavane pour une infante défunte 

International Reputation

By the early 20th century, Ravel had begun to distinguish himself in France with works like Jeux d’eau, a shimmering tour de force that showcased his innovative approach to texture and harmony. However, it was the premiere of his orchestral suite Daphnis et Chloé in 1912, commissioned by Serge Diaghilev for the Ballets Russes, that marked a turning point. This lush, expansive work, with its vivid orchestration and rhythmic vitality, captivated audiences and critics alike, and cemented Ravel’s status as a master of colour and narrative in music.

Maurice Ravel as a soldier in 1916

According to Roland-Manuel, Ravel was working on a Piano Trio when World War I broke out. In fact, Ravel was working on a number of projects, including a piano concerto based on Basque themes, two operas, a symphonic poem, and two major piano works. However, his compositional activity slowed significantly during the war, which he spent as a truck driver and ambulance assistant near the Verdun front. Suffering from exhaustion, dysentery, and the devastating loss of his mother in 1917, the war years left an indelible mark on his music and his psyche.

Maurice Ravel: Daphnis et Chloé “Suite No. 2” 

After 1918

With the notable exception of Le Tombeau de Couperin, the effects of the war left a distinct toll on Ravel’s creativity. Amidst national and personal trauma, Ravel began to cloak his personal sorrow in refined artistry, which some commentators interpreted as a coping mechanism. Focusing on neoclassical restraint and dance forms, Ravel aimed for greater introspection and simplicity, as La Valse might well be read as a haunting commentary on a shattered Europe.

Maurice Ravel’s Pavane pour une infante defunte

After Debussy’s death in 1918, Ravel was regarded as France’s leading composers. He was officially recognised by the French state but publicly refused the Légion d’Honneur in 1920. His new-found celebrity also alienated him from some of his colleagues, particularly from Satie and some members of Les Six. As Barbara Kelly writes, “Ravel emphasised his isolation by moving 50km west of Paris, where he lived with his cats and was looked after by his housekeeper until his final illness.”

Maurice Ravel: Le Tombeau de Couperin 

International Profile and Decline

Internationally, Ravel was celebrated as a modernist icon and he performed and lectured to packed houses in New York and Boston. American audiences were particularly enchanted by Boléro, which became a global sensation. His interactions with Stravinsky, Gershwin, and Vaughan William earned him accolades in England, Russia, and beyond, and his meticulous artistry and ability to fuse French elegance with universal appeal secured his place as a towering figure on the international musical landscape.

Maurice Ravel at the piano

By 1927, Ravel’s health had alarmingly deteriorated, and while he could still hear and compose music in his head, he gradually lost the ability to write it down. As he reported, “my mind is full of ideas, but when I want to write them down, they vanish.” Injured in a taxi accident in 1932, Ravel consulted a number of neurologists and underwent exploratory brain surgery. He died aged 62 in the early morning hours of 28 December 1937. The exact cause of Ravel’s death is still much debated, as are attempts to discover Ravel’s neurological decline in his later compositions.

Maurice Ravel: La Valse 

Legacy

Ravel’s legacy as a composer is a testament to his singular ability to synthesise tradition and innovation. His meticulous craftsmanship, often likened to that of a watchmaker, produced a body of work that balances classical forms with a modernist sensibility, pushing harmonic and technical boundaries while retaining elegant coherence. His mastery of orchestration became a benchmark for further explorations of colour and texture in film music and beyond.

Ravel’s grave

Beyond specific compositional techniques, Ravel’s frequently veiled profound sentiment and emotional restraint beneath a highly polished surface, “evoking the universal through the particular.” By using cross-cultural influences woven into a distinct French idiom, Ravel is lauded as a precursor of a globalised aesthetic subsequently emerging in composers like Messiaen and Takemitsu. In the 21st century, Ravel remains a towering figure whose contributions continue to inspire and challenge the boundaries of musical expression.

One of his closest friends, the exceptional pianist Marguerite Long famously wrote, “Maurice Ravel is reserved, sacred, and distant with unwelcome visitors, yet he was the surest, most delicate, and most faithful of friends. By his exterior appearance, his witticisms, and his love of paradoxes, he has often contributed to crediting the myth of spiritual indifference, but, in spite of these appearances, this great prisoner of perfection hid a sensitive and passionate soul.”