L'heure exquise
programme notes
Een nieuw Frans tijdperk
With the tenth Exposition Universelle in 1889, France celebrated political stability and prosperity after the devastation of the Franco-Prussian War. Technological breakthroughs and artistic innovations from around the world were brought to Paris. The centrepiece of the grand event was the 300-metre Eiffel Tower on the Champ-de-Mars, serving as the monumental gateway to the exhibition pavilions. Millions of visitors flocked to the French capital, where everything buzzed with life. A golden age appeared to have dawned. Yet beneath the prevailing joie de vivre, new political tensions gradually began to surface, like an ominous undertone.
An Age of Temptation
The prestigious Expositions Universelles of 1889 and 1900 captivated not only their visitors but also countless artists, for whom the international exhibitions and performances became a fertile source of inspiration. This fascination with the mysterious, colourful and sensual qualities of distant cultures was by no means new. Throughout the nineteenth century it had already given rise to Orientalism, an artistic movement inspired by the East. Victor Hugo's 1829 poetry collection Les Orientales offered vivid evocations of Eastern scenes, and one of its best-known poems, Les Djinns, named after the supernatural spirits of Islamic tradition, inspired Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924) to compose his choral setting for choir and piano in 1875, capturing its uncanny atmosphere.
By day, visitors wandered through the exhibition pavilions of the Exposition Universelle; by night, they made their way to the cafés-concerts, cabarets and music halls of Montmartre. This intoxicating blend of cultures and sensory pleasures exerted an irresistible pull on artists and musicians alike. Drawn by the district's free-spirited atmosphere, Erik Satie (1866–1925) abandoned both his middle-class family home and the conservative environment of the Conservatoire for a modest room on the Butte Montmartre. To earn a living, he worked as a pianist and arranger at Le Chat Noir and later at l'Auberge du Clou. There, he played the piano or harmonium and arranged chansons and operetta excerpts for the countless revues staged there. He detested the work, yet it was the only way to survive as a composer and secure the publication of his own music. It was also there that he met Claude Debussy (1862–1918), with whom he maintained a long and turbulent friendship.
As a composer, Satie remained a resolute outsider. Increasingly rejecting the dominant Romantic tradition, he pursued an unmistakably individual path. When he published his piano cycle Gymnopédies in 1888, the reception was largely hostile. Its stripped-back melodies, static harmonies, endless repetitions and equally enigmatic title ran counter to everything Parisian audiences expected. Their tastes remained firmly rooted in the sumptuous harmonic language of works such as Ernest Chausson's (1855–1899) Le temps des lilas.
Between Cabaret and Salon
While Satie performed in the cabarets of Montmartre, his contemporary Reynaldo Hahn (1874–1947) was far more at home in the elegant salons of the Parisian bourgeoisie. There, an eclectic circle of dukes, celebrated European figures and artists from every discipline gathered to dine, converse and enjoy music together. Hahn's own songs were favourites during these soirées, alongside those of contemporaries such as Fauré and Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921). A devoted admirer of Robert Schumann's Lieder, Hahn composed more than one hundred songs, which he frequently performed himself at the piano. He drew inspiration from the poetry of major nineteenth-century poets such as Victor Hugo and Paul Verlaine, whose verses beautifully capture the carefree spirit of the Belle Époque.
Saint-Saëns likewise found inspiration in French poetry, as demonstrated by Saltarelle. Composed for male chorus in 1885 to a text by Émile Deschamps, the lively work celebrates an exuberant feast where wine flows freely and music irresistibly invites everyone to dance. Around the same period, Debussy composed the first and third songs of his Trois Chansons de Charles d'Orléans, setting verses by the fifteenth-century poet of the same name. He deliberately chose Charles d'Orléans' medieval poetry for its restrained beauty and archaic sonority, so far removed from the lush Romantic tradition. Although Debussy began work on the cycle in 1898, he did not complete its second song until a decade later, in 1908.
From Montmartre to the Front
A few years after Debussy published his only composition for unaccompanied choir, his contemporary Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) also composed a cycle of three songs. In December 1914, during the first winter of the First World War, he wrote both the texts and the music, consciously adopting the style of the sixteenth-century French chanson tradition. The carefree spirit of the first and third songs stands in stark contrast to the poignant central movement, Trois beaux oiseaux du paradis. Here, three birds of paradise bring a young girl news of her beloved's death at the front. Their colours – bluer than the sky, white as snow and vivid vermilion red – deliberately echo those of the French tricolour. Ravel longed above all to serve his country, yet his slight physique led to repeated rejection. He was eventually accepted as a military lorry driver, bringing him into direct contact with the horrors of war. In this work, the Belle Époque, with its bustling exhibitions and vibrant cabarets, already seems like the fading memory of a distant past.
Text by Aurélie Walschaert