Maurice Ravel was born on March 7, 1875 in Ciboure-Biarritz/France and passed away on December 28, 1937 in Paris. His father was a Swiss engineer automotive pioneer while his mother had been a Basque housewife.
Ravel joined the Conservatoire de Paris for an unbelievable period of 16 years. His professors were the well-known Andre Gedalge (1856-1926) and Gabriel Faure (1845-1924).
Nothing fascinated Maurice Ravel more than translating piano music into the language of the virtuoso orchestra. The time was ripe, for by 1900, Rimsky-Korsakov and Richard Strauss had brought a new opulence to symphonic scoring. Ravel was a born transcriber who prided himself on the precision of his orchestral craft as he stretched the instruments to the limits what they could do.
Like Claude Debussy ("Claire de Lune"), Ravel was trained primarily as a pianist, and most of what he wrote originated at the keyboard. But everything was fair game for his brilliant metarphormoses, not only his own piano works which were given dual lives.
Paradoxically, though he was a master of the orchestra, only three of Ravel's own symphonic works were originally scored for orchestra, beginning with the wonderful Rapsodie Espagnol from 1907, when he was akready 32 and quite famous in Europe.
Once you have heard the pizzicato strings in the role of guitars and a colorfully large orchestra glinting with percussion from Alborada del gracioso, is it hard to believe that this wonderful show piece was initially conceived to the keyboard.
Ravel's "Bolero" from 1928 is also an outstanding representative of Spanish sensuality in the form of classical music.
Ravel remained unmarried. He loved exotic cats and Japanese ornamental plants. Even experiencing a luxury life the agonizing feelings of loneliness let become Ravel mentally deranged.
“The only love affair I have ever had was with music.”
Maurice Ravel
The history of classical music, however, is full of fabulously gifted individuals with slightly more earthy ambitions. Love stories of classical composers are frequently retold within a romanticized narrative of sugarcoated fairy tales. To be sure, happily-ever-after stories do on rare occasions take place, but it is much more likely that classical romances lead to some rather unhappy endings. Johannes Brahms had an overriding fear of commitment, Claude Debussy drove his wife into an attempt at suicide, Francis Poulenc severely struggled with his sexual identity, and Percy Grainger was heavily into whips and bondage. And that’s only the beginning! The love life of classical composers will sometimes make you weep, or alternately shout out with joy or anguish. You might even cringe with embarrassment as we try to go beyond the usual headlines and niceties to discover the psychological makeup and the societal and cultural pressures driving these relationships. Classical composer’s love stories are not for the faint hearted; they are heightened reflections of humanity at its best and worst. Accompanying these stories of love and lust with the compositions they inspired, we are able to see composers and their relationships in a completely new light.
