When I strike a chord on the piano, more isheard than those notes alone. The otherstrings vibrate with sympathetic over-tones, forming a halo over every note.Claude Debussy, who died a hundred yearsago, was perhaps the first composer towrite with this quality specifically in mind,to consciously harness it as part of his cre-ative process.

Although it was Debussy’s orchestralwork “Prélude à L’Après-midi d’un Faune”that Pierre Boulez described as “the begin-ning of modern music,” it was at the pianowhere his revolutionary new approach toform and timbre was developed.

With “Pagodes,” the first piece of his trip-tych “Estampes” (1903), we hear some-thing totally fresh. Yes, Debussy had heardJavanese gamelan music at the ExpositionUniverselle in Paris in the summer of 1889and had written with great admirationabout its complexity and sophistication. Buthis use of its tonal color (loosely, the penta-tonic scale — the black notes on a piano) isnot so much a translation of a foreign text asit is a poem written in a newly learned, fullyabsorbed language.

Composers, especially in France, hadregularly utilized exoticism in their works(Saint-Saëns and Bizet spring to mind) butit remained a decorative detail, a picturepostcard, a costume. With Debussy the ab-sorption has gone to the marrow. It is atransfusion of blood, flowing in the very fin-gers which conjure up these new sounds atthis old instrument.

Igor Stravinsky commented that he “wasstruck by the way in which the extraordi-nary qualities of this pianism had directedthe thought of Debussy the composer.” De-bussy’s discovery of new sounds at the pi-ano is directly related to the physiology ofhands on keyboard. It is impossible to con-ceive of most of Debussy’s piano music be-ing written at a desk, or outdoors, despitehis frequent use of “en plein air” titles.

No, this is music made as molded by play-ing, as dough is folded with yeast to createbread. As the fingers reach the keys, soundand touch seem to fuse into one. The key-board has ceased to be a mere function forhammers to strike strings, and has becomea precious horizontal artifact to caress. Thisis music of the piano as much as for the pi-ano. The poet Léon-Paul Fargue, havingwatched Debussy play, wrote that he“would start by brushing the keys, proddingthe odd one here and there, making a passover them and then he would sink into vel-vet.”

“He gave the impression of delivering thepiano of its song,” Fargue added, “like amother of her child.”

Debussy’s piano music is perfectly con-ceived for the instrument. But it isn’t justthat it fits beautifully under the hand orsounds wonderful as the vibrations leavethe soundboard and enter the ear. To playthe opening of “Reflets dans l’Eau” (from“Images,” Book One) feels as if the com-poser has transplanted his fingerprintsonto the pads of your digits. The way thechords are placed on the keys (flat-fingeredon the black notes) is not so much a vision ofreflections, whether trees, clouds or waterlilies. It is as if each three-padded triad is anactual laying of a flower onto the water’ssurface.

Later in the piece, as the waters becomemore agitated, the cascading arpeggios arelike liquid running through the fingers, allshimmer and sparkle. In “Poissons d’Or”(from “Images,” Book Two), the openingmotive, a darting duplet of double thirds, islike trying to catch a fish’s flip as it slips outof the finger’s grasp. And in the central sec-tion, the slinky tune slithers with gracenotes as the hand has to slide off the key as ifoff the scales of a freshly caught trout. In thefirst piece of this set, “Cloches à Travers lesFeuilles,” the fingers are required to tap thekeys (pedal held down, fingers pulled up) asif mallets against a bell.

No other composer feels to me more im-provised, more free-flowing. But then theplayer is conscious of a contradiction as thescore is studied: Music that sounds createdin the moment is loaded with instructionson how to achieve this. The first measure of“Cloches à Travers les Feuilles” is markedpianissimo and contains just eight notes,each of which carries a staccato dot. But thefirst is also coupled with a strong-accentedwhole note; the fifth has an additional dash;all the notes are covered with a slur; and, ifthat were not enough, Debussy instructsthe pianist to play “doucement sonore”

(“sweetly resonant”).His suite “Children’s Corner” may be like

so many toys in his daughter’s nursery, butthe workmanship behind every join andseam is of the highest fastidiousness. All ofhis pieces sound spontaneous, but everystitch (every dot, dash, hairpin or slur) isspecific. This is not mood music, prettysounds assembled at a dilettante’s whim.Behind the bells and the water and all thepoetic imagery is an abstract musical mindof the utmost intellectual rigor — an archi-tect of genius, despite the small scale of thebuildings.

If most of his piano music has a feel of im-provisation about it, the two books of“Préludes” celebrate this in a special way.Until well into the 20th century, a pianistwould rarely begin to play a piece cold. Afew chords, an arpeggio or two, served as awarm-up as well as allowing the audience tosettle down. This was known as “prelud-ing,” and Liszt spoke of it as a technique tobe learned by any aspiring pianist. De-bussy’s “Préludes” are perfectly craftedjewels, conveying more in their few min-utes’ duration than many an opera, yet theycan also seem as intangible as mist — withtitles, tacked on with ellipses at the end ofeach piece, like mere trails of perfume in theair.

Debussy began piano lessons at the ageof 7 in Cannes as an evacuee from Paris atthe start of the Franco-Prussian War, and hedied during the final year of World War I,unable to have a public funeral because ofthe aerial bombing of the French capital.The circumstances of his life, framed by hiscountry’s enmity with Germany, seem anapt symbol for his music’s rejection of a kindof German aesthetic.

His instinct to steer clear of classicalstructures; his elevation and celebration ofsmall, ephemeral forms; and his delight inthe atmosphere of beautiful chords for theirown sake, with no desire to find a specificfunction for them, was an audacious chal-lenge to some more self-consciously seriousGerman intellectual fashions of the time. In-deed, the “Golliwog’s Cakewalk” (from“Children’s Corner”) is a direct hit, with itscheerful celebration of popular culture andthe cheeky quote from Wagner’s “Tristanund Isolde,” followed by the minstrel’s scoff-ing sniggers.

When assessing a composer’s place inhistory, there’s always the question as towhether he or she leans backward or for-

ward. But despite the opinion of ElliottCarter that Debussy “settled the technicaldirection of contemporary music,” and de-spite the impossibility of the existence ofthe piano music of modernists such as Mes-siaen or Ligeti without him, I think the se-cret to playing Debussy’s music lies in itsChopinist roots — he edited the Polish com-poser’s works for Durand — and in his tiesto his older, old-fashioned compatriotsMassenet, Delibes and others.

He may have stretched harmony andform into new shapes, but it seems to methat it is in a Parisian cafe, a Gauloise inhand and coffee at his side, that we glimpsesomething essential about the spirit of De-bussy. For all his sophistication, he couldnever resist the lilt and leer of a corny caba-ret song — not just overtly, like in “La Plusque Lente” (1910), but tucked away insidemore experimental pieces such as “LesCollines d’Anacapri,” “Reflets dans l’Eau,”and “Poissons d’Or.” He never left behindcompletely the romantic sentimentality ofearly piano pieces like “Clair de Lune” andthe “Deux Arabesques.”

Although his taste for popular stylesfound expression in ragtime takeoffs suchas “Minstrels” and the “Golliwog’s Cake-walk,” it was his more serious music thatlater had an immense influence on jazzcomposers like Gershwin, Bill Evans, KeithJarrett and Fred Hersch. And not just be-cause of a shared sense of improvisation:The repeated patterns, the piling up of so-norities and the way Debussy would crackopen a chord, finding creativity in the verycolor of its vibrations, found its way intotheir very DNA.

And if the ghost of this Parisian ended uphaunting every American jazz bar, it alsofound its way east, too. Debussy may havediscovered his own pianistic voice afterhearing the gamelan, but by the end of the20th century the inspiration had reverseddirection and his impact on Asian piano mu-sic is incalculable. Toro Takemitsu, Ameri-can Minimalists and New Age Muzak —they all owe Debussy virtual royalties. Thefirst “modern” composer, a hundred yearsafter his death, vibrates afresh in every cor-ner of the globe.

‘Modern’ Sound Still Thrills After a CenturyCelebrating Debussy’s slinking,sparkling piano works.

By STEPHEN HOUGH

CAT O’NEIL

A sophisticated composer who couldn’t resist the lilt and leer of a corny cabaret song.

STEPHEN HOUGH’S new recording of Debussy’spiano music is out on Hyperion, and he toursthis spring with a recital program focused onthat composer.

12 AR THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 2018

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