Le grillon 3:26 Chansons • Songs Le cygne 3:36 Le paon aimer (The Ballade of the Queen who died...

RAVELChansons • Songs

Histoires naturelles • Chansons madécasses

Inva Mula • Valérie Millot • Claire BruaGérard Theruel • Laurent Naouri

David Abramovitz, Piano

DDD8.554176-77

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CD 2 59:43

Histoires naturelles § 18:011 Le paon 4:422 Le grillon 3:263 Le cygne 3:364 Le martin-pêcheur 3:135 La pintade 3:04

6 Ballade de la reine morte d’aimer * 4:55

7 Tripatos * 1:43

Trois Chansons ° 6:218 Trois beaux oiseaux du paradis 2:439 Nicolette 1:480 Ronde 1:49

! Ronsard à son âme ‡ 2:23@ Les grands vents venus d’outremer ‡ 2:32# Sainte ‡ 2:49$ Sur l’herbe ‡ 2:15% Rêves † 1:26^ Vocalise - étude en forme

de habanera † 3:11

Chansons madécasses † 14:08& Nahandove 5:50* Aoua! 4:08( Il est doux... 4:11

with Vinçen Prat, Flute & Xavier Gagnepain, Cello

Publishers: Durand (tracks 1-5, 8-15 & 17-19); Salabert (tracks 6-7) and Leduc (track 16)

Inva Mula * and Valérie Millot °, Sopranos • Claire Brua †, Mezzo-Soprano Gérard Theruel § and Laurent Naouri ‡ , Baritones • David Abramovitz, Piano

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CD 1 62:13

1 Chanson espagnole † 2:262 Chanson française § 2:173 Chanson écossaise * 3:114 Chanson italienne ° 1:165 Chanson hébraïque ‡ 4:316 Chanson du rouet † 5:087 Noël des jouets † 3:17

Deux mélodies hébraïques ‡ 6:428 Kaddisch 5:169 L’énigme éternelle 1:25

Deux épigrammes de Clément Marot § 4:43

0 D’Anne qui me jecta de la neige 2:48! D’Anne jouent de l’espinette 1:55

Cinq mélodies populaires grecques * 8:27

@ Chanson de la mariée 1:31# Là-bas, vers l’église 1:45$ Quel galant m’est comparable 0:57% Chanson des cuielleuses

de lentisques 3:22^ Tout gai! 0:52

& Un grand sommeil noir ‡ 4:30* Manteau de fleurs ° 3:45( Si morne! ° 4:33

Don Quichotte à Dulcinée ‡ 7:29) Chanson romanesque 2:23¡ Chanson épique 3:23™ Chanson à boire 1:44

Publishers: Durand (tracks 1-2, 4-5, 8-9, 12-16 & 20-22); Salabert (tracks 3, 6, 17 & 19); Mathot (track 7); Max Eschig (track 10); Demets (track 11) and Hamelle (track 18)


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From his father, a Swiss engineer, Ravel inherited adelight in precision and, incidentally, in mechanical toys,while from his Basque mother he acquired a familiaritywith something of Spanish culture. Born in 1875 in thesmall coastal village of Ciboure in the Basque region ofFrance, he spent his childhood and adolescenceprincipally in Paris, starting piano lessons at the age ofseven and from the age of fourteen studying the piano inthe preparatory piano class of the Conservatoire. In 1895he left the Conservatoire, after failing to win the prizesnecessary for promotion, but resumed studies there threeyears later under Gabriel Fauré. His repeated failure towin the important Prix de Rome, even when well enoughestablished as a composer, disqualified at his fifth attemptin 1905, resulted in a scandal that led to changes in theConservatoire, of which Fauré became director.

Ravel’s career continued successfully in the yearsbefore 1914 with a series of works of originality,including important additions to the piano repertoire, tothe body of French song and, with commissions fromDyagilev, to ballet. During the war he enlisted in 1915 asa driver and the war years left relatively little time or willfor composition, particularly with the death of his motherin 1917. By 1920, however, he had begun to recover hisspirits and resumed work, with a series of compositions,including an orchestration of his choreographic poem Lavalse, rejected by Dyagilev and the cause of a rupture intheir relations. He undertook a number of engagements asa pianist and conductor in concerts of his own works, inFrance and abroad. All this was brought to an end by hisprotracted final illness, attributed to a taxi accident in1932, which led to his eventual death in 1937.

Ravel left some 39 songs, a dozen of which arearrangements of folk-songs. Although any division ofRavel’s work into periods of supposed development mayseem arbitrary with a composer whose essential styleseems, in other respects, to have been formed so early, itis convenient, at least, to take together the earlier songs,settings of individual poems, the composition of whichcoincides more or less with the composer’s association

with the Conservatoire. A second group follows thecomposition of the cycle with orchestra, Shéhérazade, in1903 and ends with the Chants populaires of 1910. Thisis followed in 1913 by the Trois poèmes de StéphaneMallarmé, for voice and instrumental ensemble, notincluded here, leading to the final Don Quichotte àDulcinée.

The earliest song is the Ballade de la reine morted’aimer (The Ballade of the Queen who died for love)[CD 2/6], a setting of a poem by Roland de Marès,suggesting in its reference to Thule the ballad of the Kingof Thule in Goethe’s Faust. The archaising tendency ofthe text is matched by Ravel’s setting in an archaic stylethat he was soon to explore elsewhere, with elements ofillustration in the sound of the bells that announce thedeath of the queen. There is something sinister about theVerlaine setting of 1895, Un grand sommeil noir (A greatblack sleep)[CD 1/17], with its menacing accompanimentand agonized climax. The pianist Alfred Cortotremembered his fellow-student as ‘a sarcastic,argumentative and aloof young man, who used to readMallarmé and visit Erik Satie’. For his first publishedsong, Sainte (Saint)[2/13], written in 1896, Ravel turnedto Mallarmé, the source of later significant inspiration. Ithas been suggested that the setting owes something toSatie, in its accompaniment of chords and perhaps in itsmood and direction liturgiquement, which suits a poemthat gently contemplates St Cecilia. It was first performedin 1907.It was in 1898 that Ravel wrote his setting of Leconte de

Lisle’s Chanson du rouet (Song of the Spinning-Wheel)[1/6], a song that cannot help but recall Schubert’s settingof Gretchen’s spinning-song from Goethe’s Faust. Thepiano echoes the movement of the treadle and the wheel,with a final allusion, in the bass, to the Dies irae whendeath is mentioned. The same period brought the Deuxépigrammes de Clément Marot (Two Epigrams ofClément Marot) [1/10-11], sixteenth-century texts thatinvited archaism. This is suggested by the open fifths ofthe accompaniment of the first song, with reflections of

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)Songs

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eux les pluies, les tempêtes et les ventsempoisonnés. Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons, et nous vivons libres.

Aoua ! Méfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage.

* 3. Il est doux Il est doux de se coucher, durant la chaleur, sous unarbre touffu, et d’attendre que le vent du soir amènela fraîcheur. Femmes, approchez. Tandis que je merepose ici sous un arbre touffu, occupez mon oreillepar vos accents prolongés. Répétez la chanson de lajeune fille, lorsque ses doigts tressent la natte oulorsqu’assise auprès du riz, elle chasse les oiseauxavides.

Le chant plaît à mon âme. La danse est pour moipresque aussi douce qu’un baiser. Que vos passoient lents; qu’ils imitent les attitudes du plaisir etl’abandon de la volupté.

Le vent du soir se lève; la lune commence àbriller au travers des arbres de la montagne. Allez, etpréparez le repas.

storms and poisoned winds. They are no more, and we live, and we live in freedom.

Aoua! Beware of the Whites, coast-dwellers!

* 3. It is pleasantIt is pleasant to lie down, during the heat, under thedense foliage of a tree, and to wait for the eveningwind to bring freshness. Women, come near.While I rest here under the dense foliage of a tree,fill my ears with your voices. Sing again the songof the young girl, when her fingers plait the fibresof a mat or when sitting by the rice she chasesaway the greedy birds.

The song pleases my soul. The dance is for mealmost as sweet as a kiss. Take slow steps; let themimitate the attitudes of pleasure and the abandon ofdesire.

The evening wind arises; the moon starts toshine through the trees on the mountain. Go, makeready the meal.

English translations by Keith Anderson

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the spinet in the piano figuration of the second. The groupof early songs ends with the 1903 setting of an indifferentpoem by the pseudonymous Paul Gravollet, Manteau defleurs (Mantle of Flowers) [1/18] in which Raveleffectively prevails over any defects in the text.

The short cycle Shéhérazade, settings of three poemsfrom the collection of that name by his friend TristanKlingsor, originally with orchestra and not included here,opens a new period in Ravel’s songs. Between 1904 and1906 he set five Greek folk-songs, here sung, as at the firstperformance, in Greek, but more often performed with thetranslation by Michel Calvocoressi. Only the third andfourth of the original set were published, with threefurther songs added for the subsequent publication. Thefirst group of songs were set very quickly to illustrate alecture and the whole set, with the newly added songs,was first performed at a lecture-recital by Calvocoressi.The Cinq mélodies populaires grecques [1/12-16] isRavel’s first venture into the harmonization of folk-songs.In 1909 he set another Greek folk-song, Tripatos [2/7],before turning the following year to a group of songs inSpanish, Limousin French, English, Italian and Yiddish,the Chants populaires [1/1-5], with apt harmonizationsand piano accompaniments that enhance the melodies.

Ravel wrote his own words for the charming Noël desjouets (The Toys’ Christmas) [1/7] of 1905, with its child-like wonder at the figures of the crib. The piano suggeststhe bells of Christmas, with a vocal line that seems toprefigure both the Histoires naturelles [2/1-5] of 1906 andthe later collaboration with Colette, L’enfant et lessortilèges. The first of these is a successful attempt to setprose rather than verse. Jules Renard, author of thefamous novel of unhappy childhood Poil de carotte,turned from verse to the writing of prose sketches, at theirmost successful in the poetic observation of naturedepicted in Histoires naturelles, a collection of prose-poems illustrated by Toulouse-Lautrec, Bonnard andothers. Ravel sought to interpret these texts in musicalterms, the vocal line largely following the rhythms andintonations of the words. Renard, who enjoyed a veryconsiderable reputation, had doubts about the need formusical intervention, but was persuaded to hear the firstperformance of Ravel’s work, with its echoes, perceived

by the critic Emile Vuillermoz, of Ravel’s own spokenintonations.

The middle period of Ravel’s songs includes a settingin 1906 of Les grands vents venus d’outremer (The greatwinds that come from beyond the sea) [2/12], a poem bythe poet and novelist Henri de Régnier. The turbulenceevoked is reflected in the setting, as the winter windsblow, leading to the bleak ending. Sur l’herbe (On thegrass) [2/14) sets an evocative poem from Verlaine’sFêtes galantes, with its snatches of conversation in anidealised past world of Watteau. The Vocalise [2/16], astudy in the form of a habanera, was commissioned forthe Paris Conservatoire and later won wider fame invarious instrumental transcriptions.

Ravel’s Deux mélodies hébraïques (Two JewishSongs) [1/8-9] include the important Aramaic Kaddishtext, the cantor’s melismatic chant sparely supported bythe piano. The second song, L’énigme éternelle (TheEternal Enigma) is in Yiddish and of a very different kind,but imparting an air of mystery. The Trois chansons(Three Songs) [2/8-10] of 1914-15 were adapted as solosongs by the composer from his four-part originalunaccompanied settings of the same date. The words areby the composer and refer obliquely to the war in the birdsof paradise, with their blue, white and red colours, the lastbringing a soldier’s death. Nicolette has a simplenarrative, illustrated by the piano, and the final Ronde is acomic song.

Ronsard à son âme (Ronsard to his soul) [2/11] of1923-24 was Ravel’s contribution to a tribute to Ronsard,the Tombeau de Ronsard, for which a number of leadingcomposers provided settings. The flavour of the period isreflected in the open intervals of the accompaniment, withits suggestions of organum, recalling the earlier of the twoMarot songs. The evocative little setting of Rêves(Dreams) [2/15], a poem by Léon-Paul Fargue waswritten in 1927.

Ravel completed his Chansons madécasses(Madagascan Songs) [2/17-19] in 1926, settings of threepoems allegedly translated but possibly written by theCreole poet Evariste-Désiré de Forges, Vicomte de Parny,and published in 1787. For voice, flute, cello and piano intheir original version, the songs were written in response


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Elle vient. J’ai reconnu la respiration précipitéeque donne une marche rapide; j’entends lefroissement de la pagne qui l’enveloppe; c’est elle,c’est Nahandove, la belle Nahandove !

Reprends haleine, ma jeune amie; repose-toi surmes genoux. Que ton regard est enchanteur ! Que lemouvement de ton sein est vif et délicieux sous lamain qui le presse! Tu souris, Nahandove, ô belleNahandove !

Tes baisers pénètrent jusqu’à l’âme; tes caressesbrûlent tous mes sens; arrête, ou je vais mourir.Meurt-on de volupté, Nahandove, ô belleNahandove ?

Le plaisir passe comme un éclair. Ta doucehaleine s’affaiblit, tes yeux humides se referment, tatête se penche mollement, et tes transportss’éteignent dans la langueur. Jamais tu ne fus sibelle, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove ! ...

Tu pars, et je vais languir dans les regrets et lesdésirs. Je languirai jusqu’au soir. Tu reviendras cesoir, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove !

* 2. Aoua! Aoua ! Méfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage.Du temps de nos pères, des Blancs descendirentdans cette île. On leur dit: Voilà des terres, que vosfemmes les cultivent; soyez justes, soyez bons, etdevenez nos frères.

Les Blancs promirent, et cependant ils faisaientdes retranchements. Un fort menaçant s’éleva; letonnerre fut renfermé dans des bouches d’airain;leurs prêtres voulurent nous donner un Dieu quenous ne connaissons pas, ils parlèrent enfind’obéissance et d’esclavage.

Plutôt la mort. Le carnage fut long et terrible;mais malgré la foudre qu’ils vomissaient, et quiécrasait des armées entières, ils furent tousexterminés.

Aoua ! Aoua ! Méfiez-vous des Blancs !

Nous avons vu de nouveaux tyrans, plus forts etplus nombreux, planter leur pavillon sur le rivage:le ciel a combattu pour nous; il a fait tomber sur

She comes. I recognised the fast breathing fromher rapid step, I hear the rustling of the cloth thatcovers her. It is she, it is Nahandove, beautifulNahandove.

O catch your breath again, my young friend, reston my knees. How charming is your look! Howdeliciously alive is the movement of your breastunder the hand that presses it! You smile, Nahandove,O beautiful Nahandove!

Your kisses penetrate down to my soul, yourcaresses burn all my senses: stop, or I am going to die.Does one die from pleasure, Nahandove, O beautifulNahandove?

Pleasure passes in a flash, your sweet breath growsweaker, your moist eyes close again, your head bendsdown gently and your transports of delight arequenched in languor. Never have you been sobeautiful, Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove!

You go, and I shall languish in regrets and desires.I shall languish until evening. You will come backthis evening, Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove!

* 2. Aoua! Aoua! Beware of the Whites, living on the coast. Inour fathers’ time some Whites landed on thisisland. they were told: There is land, let yourwomen cultivate it; be just, be virtuous, andbecome our brothers.

The Whites promised, and yet they madechanges. A menacing fort arose; there was thunderheld in mouths of bronze; their priests wanted togive us a God that we did not known, they spokefinally of obedience and slavery.

Death, rather. The carnage was long andterrible: but in spite of the thunderbolts theyspewed out and which wiped out whole armies,they were all exterminated.

Aoua! Aoua! Beware of the Whites!

We have seen new tyrants, strong and morenumerous, plant their banner on the coast: heavenhas fought for us; it has caused rain to fall on them,

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to a commission from Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge andreflect an eroticism that matches the texts but is unusualin Ravel. This is particularly evident in the first song,Nahandove. The cautionary Aoua! and the final Il estdoux are bitonal, the latter expressive of sultry languor.

The three songs of Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (DonQuixote to Dulcinea) [1/20-22] were written in 1932-33to texts by Paul Morand. They were originally intendedfor the great Russian singer Shalyapin in a film aboutCervantes, but not used for that purpose. In this final

work Ravel returns to Spain, basing each of the songs ona Spanish or Basque dance rhythm. The extravagantpromises of Chanson romanesque are followed by thesolemn prayer to St Michael of Chanson épique and thefinal more boisterous celebration of Chanson à boire(Drinking Song).

Keith Anderson

Inva MulaInva Mula was born in Albania and after triumph in a number of international competitions, including the GeorgesEnescu, Barcelona Madama Butterfly, and the 1993 First Placido Domingo Competition, was launched on aninternational career. She has appeared with Placido Domingo at the Opéra-Bastille in Paris, in Munich, Brusselsand elsewhere. She has made her débuts in major opera houses, including the Paris Opéra, Bonn, Hamburg, theVienna State Opera and the Verona Arena, as well as in leading venues in America, including her début at theMetropolitan Opera as Musetta in La Bohème. Collaboration with Riccardo Muti has brought appearances at LaScala and in major opera houses throughout Italy. She has won equal success in the concert hall. Inva Mula’srecordings include the rôle of Micaëla in Carmen, with Roberto Alagna and participation in Bizet’s Ivan IV.

Valérie MillotValérie Millot studied with Andréa Guiot at the Paris Conservatoire, winning two Premier Prix for opera andamassing a number of international competition successes. In 1988 she made her professional début singing LadyBillows in Britten’s Albert Herring before performing in the première of Antoine Duhamel’s Quatre-vingt-treizewith the Lyon Opera the following year. Other highlights of her operatic career include Marguerite (Faust) in Paris,productions of Mireille across France and at the Paris Opéra-comique, and Madame Lidoine (Dialogue descarmélites) at the Grand Théâtre in Geneva, in Strasbourg with Marthe Keller’s production, in the SavonlinnaFestival and at the 1999 BBC Proms in London. In May 1994 she sang Brunehild in Ernest Reyer’s Sigurd inMontpellier where she also sang in Faust with Roberto Alagna. She won great success as Elsa (Lohengrin) for theOpéra de Nancy and Opera of the Rhine, before making her début as Mimì (La Bohème) for the Opéra-Comique inParis. Subsequently she was acclaimed for her performances at the Avignon Opera in La Bohème, Faust, Mireilleand as the Countess in The Marriage of Figaro. Other engagements include Musetta (La Bohème) and Marianne(Der Rosenkavalier) for the Paris Opéra-Bastille, Elisabeth (Don Carlo) in Strasbourg, and La voix humaine inNancy and Saint-Etienne. She made her German début in Düsseldorf and Hamburg singing Elisabeth (Don Carlosin French) and Dialogues des carmélites. She recently triumphed in her first Tosca for Dijon and Massy. Herconcert performances have included Verdi’s Requiem, Ravel’s Shéhérazade in Paris, Beethoven’s ChoralSymphony in Toulouse, Poulenc’s Stabat Mater and Gloria, and Rossini’s Stabat Mater.

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Je ne vous décroche une étoile.

- Je voudrais être petit chien !Embrassons nos bergères, l’une

Après l’autre, Messieurs, eh bien ?Do, mi, sol. - Hé ! bonsoir la Lune !

% Rêves (French)Léon-Paul Fargue (1878-1947)Un enfant courtAutour des marbresUne voix sourdreDes hauts parages

Les yeux si tendres De ceux qui t’aimentSongent et passentEntre les arbres.

Aux grandes orguesDe quelque gareGronde la vagueDes grands départs.

Dans un vieux rêveAu pays vagueDes choses brêves Qui meurent sages.

^ Vocalise-étude (en forme de habanera)

Chansons madécasses (French)Evariste Désiré de Forges Parny (1753-1814)

& 1. Nahandove Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove ! L’oiseau nocturnea commencé ses cris, la pleine lune brille sur matête, et la rosée naissante humecte mes cheveux.Voici l’heure: qui peut t’arrêter, Nahandove, ô belleNahandove !

Le lit de feuilles est préparé; je l’ai parsemé defleurs et d’herbes odoriférantes; il est digne de tescharmes. Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove !

I do not unhook a star for you.

I would like to be a little dog!Let us kiss our shepherdesses, oneAfter the other, gentlemen, shall we?Do, mi, sol. - Hey! Good evening, Moon!

% DreamsLéon-Paul Fargue (1878-1947)A child runsAround the marble statuesA voice arisesFrom the lofty surroundings

Eyes so tenderOf those who love youDream and passAmong the trees.

To the great organsOf some railway stationRumbles the waveOf great departures.

In an old dreamIn a misted countrysideSome brief thingsThat die sensibly.

^ Vocalise-study (in the form of a habanera)

Songs of MadagascarEvariste Désiré de Forges Parny (1753-1814)

& 1. NahandoveNahandove, O beautiful Nahandove! The bird ofnight has begun his cries, the full moon shines onmy head, and the dew, new-forming, moistens myhair. This is the hour: what can be stopping you,Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove?

The bed of leaves is ready, I have strewn it withperfumed flowers and herbs, it is worthy of yourcharms, Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove!

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Claire BruaThe mezzo-soprano Claire Brua began her studies at the Nice Conservatoire, while also reading for a master’sdegree in literature. She completed her training with Lorraine Nubar, Gundula Janowitz and Margeet Honig. Shetook a first prize at the Paris Conservatoire under William Christie and has appeared internationally with Les artsflorissants, notably as Dido in Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas at the Bastille and in Rome. She worked in the operaschool of the Opéra Bastille and appeared at the Palais Garnier in Manuel de Falla’s Sombrero de tres picos and asMercedes in Carmen at the Opéra-Bastille. In early music Claire Brua has worked with René Jacobs, Roland deLulli, Jean-Claude Malgloire and Jordi Savall, but has an extensive repertoire and has appeared in leading rôles inoperas ranging from Cavalli to Gounod. Her recordings include distinguished performances in early repertoire andin French song, a particular interest.

Gérard TheruelA pupil of Robert Manuel at the National Conservatoire of Dramatic Art, the baritone Gérard Theruel completed hismusical studies at the Paris Conservatoire, where he took first prizes in chamber music and in singing. He startedhis operatic career at the Opéra de Lyon, where he sang Claudio in Berlioz’s Béatrice et Bénédict, Orphée inMilhaud’s Les malheurs d’Orphée, a rôle he repeated in Berlin. He sang the rôle of Pelléas in Peter Brook’sImpressions sur Pelléas, and returned for the re-opening of the Opéra de Lyon, singing Epaphus in Lully’s operaPhaëton and Demetrio in Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In 1997 he was awarded the French critics’ prizeand has continued his career in the opera house and concert hall, in addition to a successful series of recordings.

Laurent NaouriThe baritone Laurent Naouri began his musical studies in 1986. Whilst he was still studying, the CNIPAL inMarseilles gave him the chance to perform the rôle of Guglielmo in Così fan tutte. These performances led to anumber of concerts and recordings, including the Radio France and Montpellier Festivals. He completed his studiesat the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London, where he sang several rôles, including those of the TheatreDirector in Poulenc’s Les mamelles de Tirésias, Ford in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and Ferdinand in Prokofiev’sBetrothal in a Monastery for Rostropovich. His professional career began properly in 1992 in the title rôle ofMilhaud’s Christopher Columbus at the opening of the Imperial Theatre in Compiègne. He has since performed inFrance, Italy, Holland, Belgium and Spain with a wide repertoire ranging from Monteverdi to contempory worksand including such rôles as Eugene Onegin in Nantes, Tarquin in Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia at Tourcoing,Lully’s Roland at Montpellier and Bottom in Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Lyon, with such conductorsas Maurizio Benini, William Christie, René Jacobs, Marc Minkowski and Kent Nagano. Other notable appearancesinclude the four leading rôles in Offenbach’s Les contes d’Hoffmann in Metz and Tours, his Opéra Bastille début asFigaro in The Marriage of Figaro and as Des Grieux in Massenet’s Manon, his Palais Garnier début as Theseus inRameau’s Hippolyte et Aricie, Hidraot in Lully’s Armide in Nice, Gluck’s Iphigénie en Tauride in Amsterdam, DonGiovanni at the Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Fieramosca in Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, with Ravel’s L’enfant et lessortilèges and Prokofiev’s War and Peace at the Opéra Bastille. Laurent Naouri gives frequent recitals and oratorioperformances, and performances abroad include L’enfant et les sortilèges with the Berlin Philharmonic under SimonRattle. His recordings range from Lully and Rameau to Offenbach and Poulenc.


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Ils se concertent, graves et pâles,Sur les places, et leurs sandalesEnsablent le marbre des dalles.

Comme de crosses à leurs mains fortes,Ils heurtent l’auvent et la porteDerrière qui l’horloge est morte.

Et les adolescents amersS’en vont avec eux vers la mer.

# Sainte (French)Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898)A la fenêtre recélantLe santal vieux qui se dédoreDe la viole étincelantJadis selon flûte ou mandore

Est la sainte pâle étalantLe livre vieux qui se déplieDu Magnificat ruisselantJadis selon vêpre ou complie

A ce vitrage d’ostensoirQue frôle une harpe par l’AngeFormée avec son vol du soirPour la délicate phalange

Du doigt que sans le vieux santalNi le vieux livre elle balanceSur le plumage instrumental,Musicienne du silence.

$ Sur l’herbe (French)Paul Verlaine (1844-1896) L’abbé divague. - Et toi, marquis,Tu mets de travers ta perruque.- Ce vieux vin de Chypre est exquis;Moins, [Camargo], que votre nuque.

- Ma flamme . . . Do, mi, sol, la, si.- L’abbé, ta noirceur se dévoile.- Que je meure, mesdames, si

They come together, serious and pale,On the squares, and their sandalsBring sand on the marble paving-stones.

As if with rifle-butts in their strong hands,They beat against the porch roof and the doorBehind which the clock has died.

And the bitter young menGo away with them towards the sea.

# SaintStéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898)At the window harbouringThe old sandalwood, its gilt flaking off,Of the viol that once sparkledWith flute or mandora

Is the pale saint showingThe old book that unfoldsOf the Magnificat that once flowedFor Vespers or Compline

At this monstrance glassThat the Angel’s harp brushesFormed with his evening flightFor the delicate tip

Of the finger that without the old sandalwoodOr the old book she balancesOn the plumage of the instrument,Musician of silence.

$ On the grassPaul Verlaine (1844-1896) The abbé digresses: And you, Marquis,You are putting your wig on crooked.This old Cyprus wine is exquisite;Less, Camargo, than the nape of your neck.

My dear . . . do, mi, sol, la si.Abbé, your baseness is shown up.May I die, ladies, if

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David Abramovitz Born in New York in 1949, David Abramovitz began piano studies at the age of five. He took a bachelor’s degreein musicology at Princeton and a master’s degree in piano at the Manhattan School of Music, studying with RobertHelps. In 1970 a Fulbright scholarship took him to Rome to work with Bruno Canino. Settling in Europe in 1976,first in Zürich as coach at the Opera Studio and soloist with the orchestra, then in 1977, recipient of two successivescholarships (American and French) in Paris to work with Nadia Boulanger, he gave his first concerts in Europe withCathy Berberian in Germany, then in Bulgaria, Poland, France and Switzerland. He has accompanied manyrenowned singers, including Régine Crespin, Hans Hotter, Hugues Cuenod, Gérard Souzay, Rita Gorr, MadyMesplé, Bernard Kruysen, Frederica Von Stade, Lucy Shelton, Edita Gruberova, Felicity Lott, David Pittman-Jennings, as well as others from a younger generation including Natalie Dessay, Jean-Paul Fouchécourt and others,and accompanied numerous master-classes. He has collaborated on productions at the Paris and Montpellier Operas,and has taught at the Paris Opera School, the CNIPAL in Marseille and the Conservatory in Poitiers. As a recitalsoloist he has performed all over the world, and has also collaborated on a theatre and music endeavour based onthe correspondence of George Sand, performing Chopin to the George Sand of Leslie Caron (in Chichester in 1997and Melbourne in 1999). A passionate chamber musician, he founded and co-directed the Musiciens Amoureux inParis from 1984 to 1988, and has performed with numerous instrumentalists, among them Maurice Gendron andGérard Caussé. His recordings include Fauré songs with Laurent Naouri and Claire Brua, songs by Henri Sauguet,an album of French cabaret songs of the Belle Epoque with Denise Bahous, and a recording of Poulenc songs withLaurent Naouri.

Xavier GagnepainFollowing success in international competitions, including those of Munich and São Paulo, the cellist XavierGagnepain embarked on a career as a soloist and chamber-music player, appearing in the former capacity with majororchestras in France and throughout Europe. In chamber music he collaborates with Hortense Cartier-Bresson andAbdel Rahman El Bacha and is the cellist of the Rosamonde Quartet. He has a particular interest in less usualrepertoire, particularly of the last and present century and in 1996 was the first to perform the twelve pieces on thename of Paul Sacher, an achievement previously unattained in contemporary solo cello repertoire. His recordingsinclude concertos and chamber music ranging from duos to sextets. He is an enthusiastic teacher, serving at theBoulogne-Billancourt Conservatoire and in numerous master-classes. His Du musicien en général…au violoncellisteen particulier has been particularly well received.

Vicenç PratsVicenç Prats was born in Catalonia and lives in Paris, where he is principal flautist in the Orchestre de Paris. He hasappeared as a soloist with a number of orchestras in France and elsewhere, and has won awards in majorinternational competitions in Japan and Barcelona, and first prizes in flute and chamber music at the ParisConservatoire, where he studied with Michel Debost, Alain Marion, Jean-Pierre Rampal and Christian Lardé.

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follettes, lémures, gnomides, succubes, gorgones, gobelines...

Ah! N’irons plus au bois d’Ormonde,Hélas! plus jamais n’irons au bois.Il n’y a plus de satyres, plus de nymphes

ni de males fées.Plus de farfadets, plus d’incubes,Plus d’ogres, de lutins De faunes, de follets, de lamies,Diables, diablots, diablotins,De chèvre-pieds, de gnomes, de démons,De loups-garous, ni d’elfes, de mymidons,Plus d’enchanteurs ni de mages, de stryges,

de sylphes, de moines bourrus,De cyclopes, de djinns, de diabloteaux, d’éfrits,

d’aegypans, de sylvains,Gobelins, korrigans, nécromans, kobolds... Ah!Les malavisé(e)s vieilles/vieux les ont effarouchés... Ah!

! Ronsard à son âme (French)Pierre de Ronsard (1524-1585) Amelette Ronsardelette,Mignonnelette, doucelette,Très chère hostesse de mon corps,Tu descens là-bas, faiblelette,Pasle, maigrelette, seulette,Dans le froid royaume des mors;Toutesfois simple, sans remorsDe meurtre, poison, et rancune,Méprisant faveurs et trésors,Tant enviez par la commune.Passant, j’ay dit: suy ta fortune,Ne trouble mon repos, je dors.

@ Les grands vents venus d’outremer (French)Henri de Régnier (1864-1936)Les grands vents venus d’outremerPassent par la ville, l’hiver,Comme des étrangers amers.

Spirits, lemurs, gnomes, succubi, gorgons, goblins.

Ah! We will never go again to the Ormonde woods,Alas! We shall never go the woods.There are no more satyrs, no more nymphs nor

wicked fairies.No more hobgoblins, no more incubi,No more ogres, no more spritesFauns, spirits, monsters,Devils, imps, little imps,Goat-footed creatures, gnomes, demonsWere-wolves, nor elves, myrmidons,No more enchanters nor magi, vampires,

sylphs, curmudgeonly monks,Cyclopes, djinns, little devils, efrits,

Pans, woodland spirits,Goblins, wicked spirits, necromancers, kobolds . . . Ah!The ill-advised old women/men have frightenedthem away . . . Ah!

! Ronsard to His SoulPierre de Ronsard (1524-1585) Little soul, little Ronsard,Little darling, sweet little one,Dearest guest of my body,You come down there, weak little one,Pale, thin, alone,Into the cold realm of the dead;Always simple, without remorseFor murder, poison, bitterness,Despising favours and treasures,So envied by all.Passing, I said: follow your fortune,Do not trouble my rest, I am sleeping.

@ The great winds from beyond the seaHenri de Régnier (1864-1936)The great winds that come from beyond the seaPass though the town, in winter,Like bitter strangers.

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Founded in 1101 by Robert d’Arbrissel and ruled over for centuries by the most powerful of abbesses, the Abbeyof Fontevraud was, before the Revolution, the richest and most important monastery in France. In the year 2001Fontevraud celebrated its 900th Anniversary.

Heir to a prestigious past, Fontevraud also served as a prison from 1804 to 1965. Fontevraud is now home tothe Cultural Centre for the West of France. The Centre Culturel de l’Ouest was set up in 1975. This project wasplanned by the Ministry of Culture, and the offices of the Région de Pays de la Loire. Its sole aim is to promote theAbbey’s exceptional heritage and with the aid of new technologies, to bring together the worlds of art and history,to link architecture with virtual reality, to advance research in the field of heritage. This is Fontevraud’s vocation.To be not only the Villa Medici of culturally orientated multimedia, but also an important domain for music andsymposia. Fontevraud aims to strive towards excellence. The events for the 900th anniversary were marked by anumber of seminars and the inauguration of the multimedia project, linking heritage and modern technology. Theinauguration included the film by Alain Escalle, L’âme et la Pierre (The Soul and the Rock) which is continuouslybroadcast in the refectory and the interactive consoles present both the history and the architecture of Fontevraud.The following Easter festival themed upon churches from the East, was attended by representatives from some ofthe most prestigious venues in Armenia, Russia, Greece and Lebanon. This coincided with an important stage in theembellishment of the abbey; the completion of works in the gardens of the Cloister of the Great Minster to the heartof the abbey, which had been absent for many years. The summer brought concerts of Gregorian chants and thevoices of the Rencontres Imaginaires.

Abbey of Fontevraud and the Centre Culturel de l’Ouest


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A perte d’haleine, s’enfuit Nicolette,Laissant là cornette et socques blancs.

Rencontra page joli,Chausses bleues et pourpoint gris,« Hé là! ma Nicolette, veux tu pas d’un doux ami ?Sage, s’en retourna, très lentement, le cœur bien marri.

Rencontra seigneur chenu,Tors, laid, puant et ventru« Hé là! ma Nicolette veux tu pas tous ces écus ? »Vite fut en ses bras, bonne NicoletteJamais au pré n’est plus revenue.

0 3. Ronde N’allez pas au bois d’OrmondeJeunes filles, n’allez pas au bois:Il y a plein de satyres, de centaures,

de malins sorciers,Des farfadets et des incubes,Des ogres, des lutins,Des faunes, des follets, des lamies,Diables, diablots, diablotins,Des chèvre-pieds, des gnomes, des démons Des loups-garous, des elfes, des myrmidons,Des enchanteurs et des mages, des stryges, des

sylphes, des moines bourrus,Des cyclopes, des djinns, gobelins, korrigans,

cromans, kobolds...

Ah! N’allez pas au bois d’Ormonde,Jeunes garçons, n’allez pas au bois:Il y a plein de faunesses, de bacchantes

et de males fées,Des satyresses, des ogresses, et des babaïagas,Des centauresses et des diablesses,Goules sortant du sabbat,Des farfadettes et des démones,Des larves, des nymphes, des myrmidones,Hamadryades, dryades, naïades, ménades, thyades,

Out of breath Nicolette ran away,Leaving there her mob-cap and white clogs.

Met a pretty young page,Blue breeches and grey doublet,‘Hey there, Nicolette, would you like a gentle friend?’Wisely she turned away, very slowly, her heart grieved.

She met a grey-haired old lord,Bandy, ugly, sweating and fat-bellied.‘Hey there, Nicolette, do you want all this money?’Quickly she was in his arms, good Nicolette,Never came back again to the field.

0 3. RoundelayDo not go to the Ormonde woods,Young girls, they are full of satyrs, centaurs,

wicked sorcerers,Hobgoblins and incubi,Ogres, sprites,Fauns, spirits, monsters.Devils, imps, little imps,Goat-footed creatures, gnomes, demons,Were-wolves, elves, myrmidons,Enchanters and magi, vampires,

sylphs, curmudgeonly monks,Cyclopes, djinns, goblins, wicked fairies,

necromancers, kobolds,

Do not go to the Ormonde woods,Young boys, they are full of she-fauns, bacchantes

and wicked fairiesShe-satyrs, ogresses and babyagas,She-centaurs and devils,Ghouls coming from their Sabbath,She-hobgoblins and demons,Worm-creatures, nymphs, she-myrmidons,Hamadryads, dryads, naiads, maenads, thyads,

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1 Chanson espagnole (Trad. Spanish)Adios, men homino, adios,Ja qui te marchas pr’aguerra: Non t’olvides d’aprendinaQuiche qued’ a can’a terra.La la la la ...

Castellanos de Castilla,Tratade ben os gallegos:Cando van, van como rosas,Cando ven, ven como negros.La la la la ...

2 Chanson française (Limousin French)(Chant populaire limousin) Janeta ount anirem gardar,Qu’ajam boun tems un’oura? Lan la!Aval, aval, al prat barrat;la de tan belas oumbras! Lan la!Lou pastour quita soun mantel,Per far siere Janetan. Lan la!Janeta a talamen jougat,Que se ies oublidada, Lan la!

3 Chanson écossaise (Trad. English)Robert Burns (1759-1796)

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon,How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,And I’m sae weary fu’ o’ care?Ye’ll break my heart, ye warbling bird,That warbles on the flowry thorn,Ye mind me o’ departed joys.Departed never to return.

Oft hae I rov’d by bonnie Doon,By morning and by evening shineTo hear the birds sing o’ their lovesAs fondly once I sang o’ mine.

1 Spanish songFarewell, my man, farewell,Since you are going to the war;Do not forget to send To those left in this country.La la la la . . .

Castilians from CastilleTreat the Galicians well. They go, they go like roses,They come back, come back like blacks.La la la la . . .

French Limousin Folk-Song

Jeanneton, where shall we go to guard the flock,To have a good time for an hour? Lan la!There, there in the fenced meadow;There are such fine shadows there! Lan la!The shepherd take his coat off,To make somewhere for Jeanneton to sit. Lan la! Jeanneton sported so muchThat she forgot herself there. Lan la!

CD 1

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Poss dhen ineya zoi.Tralilila lalalala lililili la.

Trois chansons (French)Maurice Ravel

8 1. Trois beaux oiseaux du ParadisTrois beaux oiseaux du ParadisMon ami z-il est à la guerreTrois beaux oiseaux du ParadisOnt passé par ici.

Le premier était plus bleu que le ciel,Mon ami z-il est à la guerreLe second était couleur de neigeLe troisième rouge vermeil.

« Beaux oiselets du ParadisMon ami z-il est à la guerreQu’apportez par ici ? »« J’apporte un regard couleur d’azurTon ami z-il est à la guerreMoi, sur beau front couleur de neige,Un baiser dois mettre, encore plus pur ».

Oiseau vermeil du Paradis,Mon ami z-il est à la guerreQue portez vous ainsi ?« Un joli coeur tout cramoisi »Ton ami z-il est à la guerre« Ha! je sens mon coeur qui froidit...Emportez-le aussi ».

9 2. Nicolette Nicolette, à la vesprée,S’allait promener au pré,Cueillir la pâquerette, la jonquille et la muguet,Toute sautillante, toute guillerette,Lorgnant ci, là de tous les côtés,Rencontra vieux loup grognant,Tout hérissé, l’oeil brillant;« Hé là! ma Nicolette, viens tu pas chez Mère Grand ? »

How can it be that she will not live? Tralili lalalalala lililili la.

Three SongsMaurice Ravel

8 1. Three Beautiful Birds from ParadiseThree beautiful birds from Paradise,My friend is at the war,Three beautiful birds from ParadisePassed this way.

The first was bluer than the sky,My friend is at the war,The second was the colour of snow,The third vermilion red.

‘Beautiful little birds from Paradise,My friend is at the war,What are you bringing here?’‘I bring an azure-coloured look,Your friend is at the war,I, on your fair brow, the colour of snow,Must place a kiss, still purer.’

‘Vermilion bird from Paradise,My friend is at the war,What are you bringing here?’‘A pretty heart all crimson’,Your friend is at the war,‘Ah! I feel my heart grow cold,Take it away too!’

9 2. NicoletteNicolette, in the evening,Went for a walk in the field,To pick daisy, jonquil and lily of the valley,Skipping, cheerful,Looking here and there, on all sides, Met a peevish old wolf,All bristling, its eyes shining;‘Hey there, Nicolette, aren’t you coming toGrandma’s?’

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Wi’ lightsome heart I stretch’d my handAnd pu’d a rosebud from the tree.But my fause lover stole the rose,And left the thorn wi’ me.

4 Canzone italiana (Trad. Italian)M’affaccio la finestra e vedo l’onde,Vedo le mie miserie che sò granne!Chiamo l’amore mio, nun m’arrisponde! Chiamo l’amore mio, nun m’arrisponde!

5 Chanson hébraïque (Trad. Hebrew)Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Zi weiss tu, var wemen du steihest?“Lifnei Melech Malchei hamlochim”, Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Wos ze westu bai Ihm bet’n?“Bonei, chajei, M’sunei,” Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Oif was darfs tu Bonei?“Bonim eiskim batoiroh,” Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Oif wos darfs tu Chajei?“Kol chai joiducho,” Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Oif wos darfs tu M’sunei?“W’ochalto w’sowoto uweirachto”,Tatunju.

6 Chanson du rouet (French)Charles-Marie René Leconte de Lisle (1818-1894)Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine,Je vous aime mieux que l’or et l’argent!Vous me donnez tout, lait, beurre et farine,

4 Italian SongI look from the window and see the waves,I see my troubles that are so great!I call my love, no-one answers!I call my love, no-one answers!

5 Hebrew SongMayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Do you know before whom you stand?“Before the King of Kings,” my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,What do you ask of him?“Sons, life, food,” my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Why do you want sons?“Sons to study the Torah”, my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Why do you want life?“Everything living shall give thanks”, my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Why do you want food?“You shall eat, be satisfied, and bless God,”my father.

6 Song of the Spinning-WheelCharles-Marie René Leconte de Lisle (1818-1894)O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin, I love you better than gold and silver!You give me everything, milk, butter and flour,


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Cette poseuse l’agaçait. Ainsi, la tête bleuie, sesbarbillons à vif, cocardière, elle rage du matin ausoir. Elle se bat sans motif, peut-être parce qu’elles’imagine toujours qu’on se moque de sa taille, deson crâne chauve et de sa queue basse. Et elle necesse de jeter un cri discordant qui perce l’aircomme une pointe. Parfois elle quitte la cour etdisparaît. Elle laisse aux volailles pacifiques unmoment de répit. Mais elle revient plus turbulente etplus criarde. Et, frénétique, elle se vautre par terre.Qu’a-t’elle donc? La sournoise fait une farce. Elleest allée pondre son oeuf à la campagne. Je peux lechercher si ça m’amuse. Et elle se roule dans lapoussière comme une bossue.

.

6 Ballade de la reine morte d’aimer (French)Roland de Marès (1874-1955)En Bohême était une Reine,Douce sœur du Roi de Thulé,Belle entre toutes les Reines,Reine par sa toute Beauté.

Le grand Trouvère de BohêmeUn soir triste d’automne rouxLui murmura le vieux : « Je t’aime! »Âmes folles et cœurs si fous!...

Et la Très Belle toute blancheLe doux Poète tant aimaQue sur l’heure son âme blancheVers les étoiles s’exhala...

Les grosses cloches de BohêmeEt les clochettes de ThuléChantèrent l’Hosanna suprêmeDe la Reine morte d’aimer.

7 Tripatos (Greek)Kherya pou dhen idhen ilyosPoss ta pya noun ivatri.Keenas me ton alo leyi

centre of a turkey’s spread-out tail. This affectedbird annoyed her. Thus, her head blue, her wattlesraised, militant, she rages from morning toevening. She fights for no reason, perhaps becauseshe always thinks they are making fun of herheight, of her bald head and of her low tail. Andshe never stops letting out a discordant cry thatpierces the air like a knife. Sometimes she leavesthe yard and disappears. She leaves the peacefulhens a moment’s respite. But she comes back moreturbulent and more shrill. And, frenetically, shewallows on the ground. What is wrong with her,then? The cunning bird is playing a trick. She hasgone to lay her egg in the countryside. I can lookfor it, if that amuses me. And she rolls in the dustlike a hunchback.

6 Ballad of the Queen who died for loveRoland de Marès (1874-1955)In Bohemia was a QueenGentle sister of the King of Thule,Fair among all Queens,Queen through her utter beauty.

The great Troubadour of BohemiaOne sad evening of russet autumnMurmured to her, the old man: “I love you!”Mad souls and hearts so mad! . . .

And the Very Fair One, all white,The gentle Poet loved so muchThat on the hour her white soulBreathed out towards the stars . . .

The great bells of BohemiaAnd the little bells of ThuleSang the supreme HosannaOf the Queen dead for love.

7 Tripatos Hands that the sun did not seeAs the doctors take themOne says to the other:

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Et le gai logis, et le vêtement.Je vous aime mieux que l’or et l’argent!Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine!

Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine,Vous chantez dès l’aube avec les oiseaux;Eté comme hiver, chanvre ou laine fine,Par vous, jusqu’au soir, charge les fuseaux.Vous chantez dès l’aube avec les oiseaux;Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine!

Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine,Vous me filerez mon suaire étroit,Quand, près de mourir, et courbant l’échine,Je ferai mon lit éternel et froid.Vous me filerez mon suaire étroit,Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine!

7 Noël des jouets (French)Maurice Ravel Le troupeau verni des moutonsRoule en tumulte vers la crêche.Les lapins tambours, brefs et rêches,Couvrent leurs aigres mirlitons.Vierge Marie, en crinoline,Ses yeux d’émail sans cesse ouverts,En attendant Bonhomme hiverVeille Jésus qui se dodineCar, près de là, sous un sapin,Furtif, emmitoufflé dans l’ombreDu bois, Belzébuth, le chien sombre,Guette l’Enfant de sucre peint.Mais les beaux anges incassablesSuspendus par des fils d’archalDu haut de l’arbuste hiémalAssurent la paix des étables.Et leur vol de clinquant vermeilQui cliquette en bruits symétriquesS’accorde au bétail mécaniqueDont la voix grêle bêle:“Noël! Noël! Noël!”

And a cheerful home, and clothes.I love you better than gold and silver!O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin.

O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin,You sing from dawn with the birds;Summer like winter, hemp or fine wool,Until evening the spindles are loaded by you.You sing from dawn with the birds;O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin.

O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin,You will spin for me my narrow shroud, When, near death, and my back bent,I shall make my eternal cold bed.You will spin for me my narrow shroud,O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin.

7 The Toys’ ChristmasMaurice Ravel The varnished flock of sheep Rolls tumultuously towards the manger.The rabbit drummers, short and rough,Cover their shrill toy reed-pipes.The Virgin Mary, in crinoline,Enamel eyes always open,While waiting for Father Christmas,Watches over Jesus, who rocks,For near, under a pine-tree,Furtive, muffled up in the shadowOf the wood, Beelzebub, the dark dog,Looks at the Child of painted sugar.But the beautiful angels, unbreakable,Hung on brass wiresFrom the top of the winter treePromise peace to the stables.And their flight of shiny silver-giltThat clicks in symmetric soundsFits with the mechanical animalsWhose voices bleat thinly:“Noël! Noël! Noël!”

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des doigts en l’air et désignent la lune.

3 3. Le cygne Il glisse sur le bassin, comme un traîneau blanc, dunuage en nuage. Car il n’a faim que des nuagesfloconneux qu’il voit naître, bouger, et se perdredans l’eau. C’est l’un d’eux qu’il désire. Il le vise dubec, et il plonge tout à coup son col vêtu de neige.Puis, tel un bras de femme sort d’une manche, il leretire. Il n’a rien. Il regarde: les nuages effarouchésont disparu. Il ne reste qu’un instant désabusé, carles nuages tardent peu à revenir, et, là-bas, oùmeurent les ondulations de l’eau, en voici un qui sereforme. Doucement, sur son léger coussin deplumes, le cygne rame et s’approche . . . Il s’épuiseà pêcher de vains reflets, et peut-être qu’il mourra,victime de cette illusion, avant d’attraper un seulmorceau de nuage. Mais qu’est-ce que je dis?Chaque fois qu’il plonge, il fouille du bec la vasenourrissante et ramène un ver. Il engraisse commeune oie.

4 4. Le martin-pêcheur Ça n’a pas mordu, ce soir, mais je rapporte une rareémotion. Comme je tenais ma perche de lignetendue, un martin-pêcheur est venu s’y poser. Nousn’avons pas d’oiseau plus éclatant. Il semblait unegrosse fleur bleue au bout d’une longue tige. Laperche pliait sous le poids. Je ne respirais plus, toutfier d’être pris pour un arbre par un martin-pêcheur.Et je suis sûr qu’il ne s’est pas envolé de peur, maisqu’il a cru qu’il ne faisait que passer d’une brancheà une autre.

5 5. La pintade C’est la bossue de ma cour. Elle ne rêve que plaiesà cause de sa bosse. Les poules ne lui disent rien:Brusquement, elle se précipite et les harcèle. Puiselle baisse sa tête, penche le corps, et, de toute lavitesse de ses pattes maigres, elle court frapper, deson bec dur, juste au centre de la roue d’une dinde.

air and point to the moon.

3 3. The SwanHe glides on the pond, like a white sleigh, fromcloud to cloud. For he only hungers for the fleecyclouds that he sees come into being, move, anddisappear in the water. It is one of them that hedesires. He aims at it with his beak, and hesuddenly plunges his snow-clad neck. Then, as awoman’s arm comes out of her sleeve, he pulls itback. He has nothing. He looks: the startled cloudshave disappeared. He stays only a moment,disillusioned, for the clouds delay only a littlebefore they return, and, down there, where theripples of the water die, there is one taking shapeagain. Gently, on his light cushion of feathers, theswan paddles and draws near . . . He is exhaustedwith fishing for vain reflections, and perhaps hewill die, a victim of this illusion, before catching asingle piece of cloud. But what do I say? Everytime that he plunges, he digs with his beak into thenourishing mud and brings out a worm. He isgrowing as fat as a goose.

4 4. The KingfisherNot a bite, this evening, but I had a rare feeling. AsI was holding my fishing-rod stretched out, akingfisher came and perched on it. We have nomore brilliant a bird. He seemed like a great blueflower on the end of a long stem. The rod bentunder the weight. I did not breathe, proud to havebeen taken for a tree by a kingfisher. And I am surethat he did not fly away for fear, but because hethought he was only passing from one branch toanother.

5 5. The Guinea FowlShe is the hunchback of my yard. She only wantsto fight because of her hump. The hens say nothingto her: suddenly she dashes forward and harassesthem. Then she lowers her head, bends her body,and, with all the speed her thin legs can manage,she runs to strike, with her hard beak, right at the

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Deux mélodies Hébraïques (Trad. Hebrew)

8 1. Kaddisch Yithgaddal weyithkaddash scheméh rabbabe’olmâ diverâ ‘khire’ outhé

veyamli’kh mal’khouté behhayyékhôn,ouveyome’khôn ouve’hayyé de’khol beth yisraëlba’agalâ ouvizman qariw weimrou. Amen.Yithbara’kh. Weyischtaba’h weyith paërweyithromam weyithnassé weithhaddarweyith’allé weyithhallal scheméh deqoudschâberi’kh hou, le’elà min kol bir’khayhaweschiratha touschbehatha wene’hamathâ daa mirânah! be’olma ah! weïmrou Amen.

9 2. L’énigme éternelle Frägt die Welt die alte CascheTra la la.Entfernt menTra la laUn as men willken men sagenTra la la.

Deux épigrammes de Clément Marot (French)Clément Marot (1496-1544)

0 1. D’Anne qui me jecta de la neige Anne par jeu me jecta de la neigeQue je cuidoys froide certainement:Mais c’estoit feu, l’expérience en ay-jeCar embrasé je fuz soubdainementPuisque le feu loge secretementDedans la neige, où trouveray-je placePour n’ardre point? Anne, ta seule grâceEstaindre peut le feu que je sens bienNon point par eau, par neige, ne par glace,Mais par sentir ung feu pareil au mien.

! 2. D’Anne jouant de l’espinette Lorsque je voy en ordre la brunette

Two Hebrew Songs

8 1. KaddishHe shall be magnified, sanctified, His name greatthroughout the world that He

created according to His will,and He shall set up His kingdom in your lifetime,in your days and in the life of the whole house of Israel,quickly and soon, in the time at hand. Let us say Amen.May His holy name be blessed, praised and glorified, adored, honoured.May He be blessed above all blessingsand hymns and words of comfort that are ever spoken,Ah! In the world. Ah! Let us say Amen.

9 2. The Eternal RiddleThe world asksthe old question:Tra la la.One answers:Tra la la.If one wantsone can say:Tra la la.

Deux épigrammes de Clément MarotClément Marot (1496-1544)

0 1. Of Anne who threw some snow at meAnne in sport threw some snow at meThat I certainly found cold:But it was fire, the experience that I had,For I was suddenly aflameSince the fire dwells secretlyIn the snow, where shall I find a placeWhere I shall not burn? Anne, your grace aloneCan put out the fire that I feel,Not water, not snow, not ice,But by feeling a fire like mine.

! 2. Of Anne playing the spinetWhen I see rightly the brunette,


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Histoires naturelles (French)Jules Renard (1864-1910)

1 1. Le paon Il va sûrement se marier aujourd’hui. Ce devait êtrepour hier. En habit de gala, il était prêt. Il n’attendaitque sa fiancée. Elle n’est pas venue. Elle ne peuttarder. Glorieux, il se promène avec une allure deprince indien et porte sur lui les riches présentsd’usage. L’amour avive l’éclat de ses couleurs etson aigrette tremble comme une lyre. La fiancéen’arrive pas. Il monte au haut du toit et regarde ducôté du soleil. Il jette son cri diabolique: Léon!Léon! C’est ainsi qu’il appelle sa fiancée. Il ne voitrien venir et personne ne répond. Les volailleshabituées ne lèvent même point la tête. Elles sontlasses de l’admirer. Il redescend dans la cour, si sûrd’être beau qu’il est incapable de rancune. Sonmariage sera pour demain. Et, ne sachant que fairedu reste de la journée, il se dirige vers le perron. Ilgravit les marches, comme des marches de temple,d’un pas officiel. Il relève sa robe à queue toutelourde des yeux qui n’ont pu se détacher d’elle. Ilrépète encore une fois la cérémonie.

2 2. Le grillon C’est l’heure où, las d’errer, l’insecte nègre revientde promenade et répare avec soin le désordre de sondomaine. D’abord il ratisse ses étroites allées desable. Il fait du bran de scie qu’il écarte au seuil desa retraite. Il lime la racine de cette grande herbepropre à le harceler. Il se repose. Puis il remonte saminuscule montre. A-t-il fini? Est-elle cassée? Il serepose encore un peu. Il rentre chez lui et ferme saporte. Longtemps il tourne sa clef dans la serruredélicate. Et il écoute: Point d’alarme dehors. Mais ilne se trouve pas en sûreté. Et comme par unechaînette dont la poulie grince, il descend jusqu’aufond de la terre. On n’entend plus rien. Dans lacampagne muette, les peupliers se dressent comme

Histoires naturellesJules Renard (1864-1910)

1 1. The PeacockHe is certainly going to marry today. It should havebeen yesterday. Dressed up, he was ready. He wasonly waiting for his fiancée. She did not come. Shecannot be late. Glorious, he walks with the mien ofan Indian prince and carries with him the richcustomary presents. Love gives brightness to hiscolours and his crest trembles like a lyre. Hisfiancée does not come. He climbs onto the roof andlooks towards the sun. He cries out: Léon! Léon!.That is how he calls his fiancée. He sees nothingcoming and no one answers. The birds are used toit and do not even raise their heads. They are tiredof admiring him. He comes down again into theyard, so certain that he is handsome that he isincapable of bitterness. His marriage will betomorrow. And, not knowing what to do with therest of the day, he goes towards the steps. He goesup them, as if they were the steps of a temple,ceremonially. He lowers his tail plumage, heavywith eyes that cannot part from it. He repeats theceremony once more.

2 2. The CricketIt is the hour when, tired of wandering, the blackinsect comes back from his walk and carefully putshis home in order. First he rakes its narrow alleysof sand. He makes sawdust, which he spreads onthe doorstep of his retreat. He files the root of thisgreat weed, to harass it. He rests. Then he windshis tiny watch. Has he finished? Is it broken? Herests again a little. He goes back into his house andshuts the door. For a long time he turns the key inthe delicate lock. And he listens: no alarm outside.But he does not think he is safe. And as if by a littlechain with a creaking pulley, he goes down rightinto the earth. Nothing more is heard. In the silentcountryside the poplars rise up like fingers in the

CD 2

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Jeune, en bon point, de la ligne des Dieux,Et que sa voix, ses doits et l’espinetteMeinent ung bruyct doulx et melodieux,J’ay du plaisir, et d’oreilles et d’yeulxPlus que les sainctz en leur gloire immortelleEt autant qu’eulx je devien glorieuxDès que je pense estre ung peu ayme d’elle.

Cinq mélodies populaires grecques (Trad. Greek)

@ 1. Xypnise peXypnise pe, xypnise petro perdikaTinaxe ta phtera souTris elies ke mia vameniTin kardia mou œchis kameni.Chrysi korde, chrysi kordela souphera,Na plexis ta mallia sou ta chrysa.Vrelana yinou me teriKi yony mas stibe theri.

# 2. An pas pera katoAn pas pera kato, kato s’ton Ayo Sidero,S’ten Aya Parthena,s’ten Ayo Kostantino,Eki tha vris phos mou, phos mou ta mistikomouS’ten Aya Parthena, s’ten Aya phila ka tou kosmou!

$ 3. Pios allosPios allos o san emena xeriTin agape na kerna,Pes esi Vassiliki?Pios allos s’ten zonito mas cheri,Xeri na phora na phoriKetrella na s’agapa!

% 4 O! gli kia chara mouO! gli kia chara mouO! tis kardia parigoria mou,Tis psychis thisavre, tis zoïs tragoudi,

Young, comely, descended from the Gods,And as her voice, her fingers and the spinetMake a sound that is sweet and tuneful,I have pleasure, both from ears and from eyes,More than the saints in their immortal gloryAnd I become as glorious as themWhen I think I am a little loved by her.

Five Greek Folk-Songs

@ 1. Bride’s SongWake up, wake up, little partridge,Open your wings to the morning.Three beauty spots, and my heart is afire!See the gold ribbon I bring you,To tie around your hair.If you want, my fair one, come and let us marry!In our two families all are joined togethr!

# 2. There, by the churchThere, by the church,By the church of St Sidero,The church, O Holy Virgin,The church of St Constantine,They are gathered together,Assembled in infinite numbers,From the world, O Holy Virgin,From the world all the best!

$ 3. What gallant is to be compared with meWhat gallant is to be compared with meAmong those that we see passing by?Tell me, Royal Lady?See, hanging from my belt,pistols and a sharp sabre . . .And it is you that I love!

% 4. Song of the girls picking masticO joy of my soul,Joy of my heart,Treasure so dear to me;Joy of soul and heart,

554176-77bk Ravel US 19/09/2003 1:44 pm

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™ 3. Chanson à boireFoin du bâtard, illustre Dame,Qui pour me perdre à vos doux yeuxDit que l’amour et le vin vieuxMettent en deuil mon cœur, mon âme!Ah! ah! ah!

Je boisA la joie!La joie est le seul butOù je vais droit … lorsque j’ai bu!Ah! ah! ah! la joie!La … la … laJe boisA la joie!

Foin du jaloux, brune maitresse,Qui geind, qui pleure et fait sermentD’être toujours ce pâle amantQui met de l’eau dans son ivresse!Ah! ah! ah!

Je boisA la joie! La joie est le seul butOù je vais droit … lorsque j’ai bu!Ah! ah! ah! la joie!La … la … laJe boisA la joie!

™ 3. Drinking SongA fig for the bastard, illustrious Lady,who to lose me in your sweet eyessays that love and old wineput my heart in mourning, my soul!Ah! Ah! Ah!

I drinkto joy.Joy is the sole aimthat I go straight to . . . when I have drunk!Ah! Ah! Ah! Joy!La … la … laI drinkTo joy!

A fig for the jealous fellow, brown-haired mistress,who moans, who weeps and swearsalways to be this pale loverwho puts water in his drunkenness!Ah! Ah! Ah!

I drinkto joy!Joy is the sole aim that I go straight to . . . when I have drunk!Ah! Ah! Ah! Joy!La … la … laI drinkTo joy!

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Mia zis kali, san Aggieloudi.O! thisavre mou essi, san louloudi.Pos s’agapo se la chtaroIse san Aggielos, ise san asteriPhtochi kordia min pote to chasis.

^ 5. Yaroumbi, yaroumbi!Yaroumbi, yaroumbi, roumbi!Echis gamba tik, etik e spasta,Echis gamba ta patiria spasta,Vaÿ, vaÿ n’aman!Larala …Aman, aman!

With thanks to Alexandra Papadjiakou

& Un grand sommeil noir (French)Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)Un grand sommeil noirTombe sur ma vie:Dormez, tout espoir,Dormez, toute envie!

Je ne vois plus rien,Je perds la mémoireDu mal et du bien...O la triste histoire!

Je suis un berceauQu’une main balanceAu creux d’un caveau:Silence, silence!

* Manteau de fleurs (French)Paul Gravollet (1863-1936)Toutes les fleurs de mon jardin sont roses,Le rose sied à sa beauté.Les primevères sont les premières écloses,Puis viennent les tulipes et les jacinthes roses,Les jolis œillets, les si belles roses,

You that I love ardently,You are more handsome than an angel.O when you appear,Angel so sweetBefore our eyes,Like a fair handsome angel,Under the bright sunshine,Alas! All our poor hearts sigh!

^ 5. All gay!All gay! Gay, ha, all gay!Fair legs, tireli, that dance;Fair legs, the dishes dance,Tra la la la la …

& A great black sleepPaul Verlaine (1844-1896)A great black sleepFalls on my life:Sleep, all hope,Sleep, all desire!

I see nothing now,I lose the memoryOf bad and of good . . . O what a sad story!

I am a cradleRocked by a handIn the hollow of a vault:Silence, silence!

* Mantle of FlowersPaul Gravollet (1863-1936)All the flowers in my garden are pink,The rose becomes her beauty.The primroses are the first open,Then come the tulips and the pink hyacinths,The pretty carnations, the roses so fair,


8.554176-7715

Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (French)Paul Morand (1888-1976)

) 1. Chanson romanesqueSi vous me disiez que la terreA tant tourner vous offensa,Je lui dépêcherais Pança:Vous la verriez fixe et se taire.

Si vous me disiez que l’ennuiVous vient du ciel trop fleuri d’astres,Déchirant les divins cadastres,Je faucherais d’un coup la nuit.

Si vous me disiez que l’espaceAinsi vidé ne vous plait point,Chevalier-dieu, la lance au poing,J’étoilerais le vent qui passe.

Mais si vous disiez que mon sangEst plus à moi qu’à vous, ma Dame,Je blémirais dessous le blâmeEt je mourrais, vous bénissant.O Dulcinée.

¡ 2. Chanson épiqueBon Saint Michel qui me donnez loisirDe voir ma Dame et de l’entendre,Bon Saint Michel qui me daignez choisirPour lui complaire et la défendre,Bon Saint Michel veuillez descendreAvec Saint Georges sur l’autelDe la Madone au bleu mantel.

D’un rayon du ciel bénissez ma lameEt son égale en puretéEt son égale en piétéComme en pudeur et chasteté: Ma Dame, (O grand Saint Georges et Saint Michel!)L’ange qui veille sur ma veille,Ma douce Dame si pareilleA Vous, Madonne au bleu mantel!

Don Quichotte à DulcinéePaul Morand (1888-1976)

) 1. Romanesque SongIf you told me that the earthOffended you by turning so much,I would despatch Panza there:You would see it fixed and silent.

If you told me that boredomComes upon you at the sky so flowered with stars,Tearing apart the divine regions,I would cut down the night in one blow.

If you told me that spaceSo empty displeased you,A God-like knight, lance in hand,I would fill with stars the passing wind.

But if you said that my bloodWas more mine than yours, my Lady,I would grow pale under the reproachAnd I would die, blessing you.O Dulcinea.

¡ 2. Epic SongGood Saint Michael, who gives me the chanceTo see my Lady and to hear her,Good Saint Michael who deigns to choose meTo please her and defend her,Good Saint Michael, come downWith Saint George to the altarOf the Madonna in the blue cloak.

With a beam from heaven bless my sword-bladeAnd its equal in puretyAnd its equal in pietyAs in modesty and chastity, my Lady,(O great Saint George and Saint Michael!)The angel that watches over my vigil,My sweet Lady so likeYou, Madonna in the blue cloak!

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Toute la variété des fleurs si rosesDu printemps et de l’été!Toutes mes pivoines sont roses,Roses aussi sont mes glaïeuls,Roses mes géraniums; seuls,Dans tout ce rose un peu troublant,Les lys ont le droit d’être blancs.

Et quand elle passe au milieu des fleursEmperlées de rosée en pleurs,Dans le parfum grisant des roses,Et sous la caresse des chosesToute grâce, amour, pureté!Les fleurs lui font un manteau roseDont elle pare sa beauté.

( Si morne! (French)Emile Verhaeren (1855-1916)Se replier sur soi-même, si morne!Comme un drap lourd, qu’aucun dessin de fleur n’adorne.Se replier, s’appesantir et se tasserEt se toujours, en angles noirs et mats, casser.

Si morne! et se toujours interdire l’envieDe tailler en drapeaux l’étoffe de sa vie.Tapir entre les plis ses mauvaises fureursEt ses rancoeurs et ses douleurs et ses erreurs.

Ni les frissons soyeux, ni les moires fondantesMais les pointes en soi des épingles ardents.Oh! le paquet qu’on pousse ou qu’on jette à l’écart,Si morne et lourd, sur un rayon, dans un bazar.

Déjà sentir la bouche âcre des moisissuresGluer, et les taches s’étendre en leurs morsures.Pourrir, immensément emmaillotté d’ennui;Être l’ennui qui se replie en de la nuit.

Tandis que lentement, dans les laines ourdines,De part en part, mordent les vers des maladies.

Every kind of flower so pinkOf spring and of summer!All my peonies are pink,Pink too are my gladioli,Pink my geraniums; only,In all this slightly troubling pink,The lilies have the right to be white.

And when she passes among the flowersPearled with tears of dew,In the intoxicating scent of the roses,And under the caress of thingsAll grace, love, purety!The flowers make her a pink mantleWith which she adorns her beauty.

( So gloomyEmile Verhaeren (1855-1916)To withdraw into oneself, so gloomy!Like a heavy cloth that no flower design adorns.To withdraw, to grow dull and oppressedAnd always worn out, in black dull corners.

So gloomy! and always to forbid fancyTo trim into flags the stuff of life.To hide among the folds one’s evil rages,And bitterness and sorrows and mistakes.

Neither shimmering silk, nor melting moireBut the pricks of burning pins inside.Oh! the load that one pushes or casts to one side,So gloomy and heavy, on a stall, in a bazaar.

Already to feel the mouth bitter with mustinessSticky, and the marks extending in their bites.To grow rotten, swathed up in boredom;To be the boredom that withdraws in the night.

While slowly, in the warps of wool,Through and through bite the verses of illness.

554176-77bk Ravel US 19/09/2003 1:44 pm

8.554176-7715

Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (French)Paul Morand (1888-1976)

) 1. Chanson romanesqueSi vous me disiez que la terreA tant tourner vous offensa,Je lui dépêcherais Pança:Vous la verriez fixe et se taire.

Si vous me disiez que l’ennuiVous vient du ciel trop fleuri d’astres,Déchirant les divins cadastres,Je faucherais d’un coup la nuit.

Si vous me disiez que l’espaceAinsi vidé ne vous plait point,Chevalier-dieu, la lance au poing,J’étoilerais le vent qui passe.

Mais si vous disiez que mon sangEst plus à moi qu’à vous, ma Dame,Je blémirais dessous le blâmeEt je mourrais, vous bénissant.O Dulcinée.

¡ 2. Chanson épiqueBon Saint Michel qui me donnez loisirDe voir ma Dame et de l’entendre,Bon Saint Michel qui me daignez choisirPour lui complaire et la défendre,Bon Saint Michel veuillez descendreAvec Saint Georges sur l’autelDe la Madone au bleu mantel.

D’un rayon du ciel bénissez ma lameEt son égale en puretéEt son égale en piétéComme en pudeur et chasteté: Ma Dame, (O grand Saint Georges et Saint Michel!)L’ange qui veille sur ma veille,Ma douce Dame si pareilleA Vous, Madonne au bleu mantel!

Don Quichotte à DulcinéePaul Morand (1888-1976)

) 1. Romanesque SongIf you told me that the earthOffended you by turning so much,I would despatch Panza there:You would see it fixed and silent.

If you told me that boredomComes upon you at the sky so flowered with stars,Tearing apart the divine regions,I would cut down the night in one blow.

If you told me that spaceSo empty displeased you,A God-like knight, lance in hand,I would fill with stars the passing wind.

But if you said that my bloodWas more mine than yours, my Lady,I would grow pale under the reproachAnd I would die, blessing you.O Dulcinea.

¡ 2. Epic SongGood Saint Michael, who gives me the chanceTo see my Lady and to hear her,Good Saint Michael who deigns to choose meTo please her and defend her,Good Saint Michael, come downWith Saint George to the altarOf the Madonna in the blue cloak.

With a beam from heaven bless my sword-bladeAnd its equal in puretyAnd its equal in pietyAs in modesty and chastity, my Lady,(O great Saint George and Saint Michael!)The angel that watches over my vigil,My sweet Lady so likeYou, Madonna in the blue cloak!

8.554176-77 14

Toute la variété des fleurs si rosesDu printemps et de l’été!Toutes mes pivoines sont roses,Roses aussi sont mes glaïeuls,Roses mes géraniums; seuls,Dans tout ce rose un peu troublant,Les lys ont le droit d’être blancs.

Et quand elle passe au milieu des fleursEmperlées de rosée en pleurs,Dans le parfum grisant des roses,Et sous la caresse des chosesToute grâce, amour, pureté!Les fleurs lui font un manteau roseDont elle pare sa beauté.

( Si morne! (French)Emile Verhaeren (1855-1916)Se replier sur soi-même, si morne!Comme un drap lourd, qu’aucun dessin de fleur n’adorne.Se replier, s’appesantir et se tasserEt se toujours, en angles noirs et mats, casser.

Si morne! et se toujours interdire l’envieDe tailler en drapeaux l’étoffe de sa vie.Tapir entre les plis ses mauvaises fureursEt ses rancoeurs et ses douleurs et ses erreurs.

Ni les frissons soyeux, ni les moires fondantesMais les pointes en soi des épingles ardents.Oh! le paquet qu’on pousse ou qu’on jette à l’écart,Si morne et lourd, sur un rayon, dans un bazar.

Déjà sentir la bouche âcre des moisissuresGluer, et les taches s’étendre en leurs morsures.Pourrir, immensément emmaillotté d’ennui;Être l’ennui qui se replie en de la nuit.

Tandis que lentement, dans les laines ourdines,De part en part, mordent les vers des maladies.

Every kind of flower so pinkOf spring and of summer!All my peonies are pink,Pink too are my gladioli,Pink my geraniums; only,In all this slightly troubling pink,The lilies have the right to be white.

And when she passes among the flowersPearled with tears of dew,In the intoxicating scent of the roses,And under the caress of thingsAll grace, love, purety!The flowers make her a pink mantleWith which she adorns her beauty.

( So gloomyEmile Verhaeren (1855-1916)To withdraw into oneself, so gloomy!Like a heavy cloth that no flower design adorns.To withdraw, to grow dull and oppressedAnd always worn out, in black dull corners.

So gloomy! and always to forbid fancyTo trim into flags the stuff of life.To hide among the folds one’s evil rages,And bitterness and sorrows and mistakes.

Neither shimmering silk, nor melting moireBut the pricks of burning pins inside.Oh! the load that one pushes or casts to one side,So gloomy and heavy, on a stall, in a bazaar.

Already to feel the mouth bitter with mustinessSticky, and the marks extending in their bites.To grow rotten, swathed up in boredom;To be the boredom that withdraws in the night.

While slowly, in the warps of wool,Through and through bite the verses of illness.


8.554176-77 16

™ 3. Chanson à boireFoin du bâtard, illustre Dame,Qui pour me perdre à vos doux yeuxDit que l’amour et le vin vieuxMettent en deuil mon cœur, mon âme!Ah! ah! ah!

Je boisA la joie!La joie est le seul butOù je vais droit … lorsque j’ai bu!Ah! ah! ah! la joie!La … la … laJe boisA la joie!

Foin du jaloux, brune maitresse,Qui geind, qui pleure et fait sermentD’être toujours ce pâle amantQui met de l’eau dans son ivresse!Ah! ah! ah!

Je boisA la joie! La joie est le seul butOù je vais droit … lorsque j’ai bu!Ah! ah! ah! la joie!La … la … laJe boisA la joie!

™ 3. Drinking SongA fig for the bastard, illustrious Lady,who to lose me in your sweet eyessays that love and old wineput my heart in mourning, my soul!Ah! Ah! Ah!

I drinkto joy.Joy is the sole aimthat I go straight to . . . when I have drunk!Ah! Ah! Ah! Joy!La … la … laI drinkTo joy!

A fig for the jealous fellow, brown-haired mistress,who moans, who weeps and swearsalways to be this pale loverwho puts water in his drunkenness!Ah! Ah! Ah!

I drinkto joy!Joy is the sole aim that I go straight to . . . when I have drunk!Ah! Ah! Ah! Joy!La … la … laI drinkTo joy!

8.554176-7713

Mia zis kali, san Aggieloudi.O! thisavre mou essi, san louloudi.Pos s’agapo se la chtaroIse san Aggielos, ise san asteriPhtochi kordia min pote to chasis.

^ 5. Yaroumbi, yaroumbi!Yaroumbi, yaroumbi, roumbi!Echis gamba tik, etik e spasta,Echis gamba ta patiria spasta,Vaÿ, vaÿ n’aman!Larala …Aman, aman!

With thanks to Alexandra Papadjiakou

& Un grand sommeil noir (French)Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)Un grand sommeil noirTombe sur ma vie:Dormez, tout espoir,Dormez, toute envie!

Je ne vois plus rien,Je perds la mémoireDu mal et du bien...O la triste histoire!

Je suis un berceauQu’une main balanceAu creux d’un caveau:Silence, silence!

* Manteau de fleurs (French)Paul Gravollet (1863-1936)Toutes les fleurs de mon jardin sont roses,Le rose sied à sa beauté.Les primevères sont les premières écloses,Puis viennent les tulipes et les jacinthes roses,Les jolis œillets, les si belles roses,

You that I love ardently,You are more handsome than an angel.O when you appear,Angel so sweetBefore our eyes,Like a fair handsome angel,Under the bright sunshine,Alas! All our poor hearts sigh!

^ 5. All gay!All gay! Gay, ha, all gay!Fair legs, tireli, that dance;Fair legs, the dishes dance,Tra la la la la …

& A great black sleepPaul Verlaine (1844-1896)A great black sleepFalls on my life:Sleep, all hope,Sleep, all desire!

I see nothing now,I lose the memoryOf bad and of good . . . O what a sad story!

I am a cradleRocked by a handIn the hollow of a vault:Silence, silence!

* Mantle of FlowersPaul Gravollet (1863-1936)All the flowers in my garden are pink,The rose becomes her beauty.The primroses are the first open,Then come the tulips and the pink hyacinths,The pretty carnations, the roses so fair,

554176-77bk Ravel US 19/09/2003 1:44 pm

8.554176-7717

Histoires naturelles (French)Jules Renard (1864-1910)

1 1. Le paon Il va sûrement se marier aujourd’hui. Ce devait êtrepour hier. En habit de gala, il était prêt. Il n’attendaitque sa fiancée. Elle n’est pas venue. Elle ne peuttarder. Glorieux, il se promène avec une allure deprince indien et porte sur lui les riches présentsd’usage. L’amour avive l’éclat de ses couleurs etson aigrette tremble comme une lyre. La fiancéen’arrive pas. Il monte au haut du toit et regarde ducôté du soleil. Il jette son cri diabolique: Léon!Léon! C’est ainsi qu’il appelle sa fiancée. Il ne voitrien venir et personne ne répond. Les volailleshabituées ne lèvent même point la tête. Elles sontlasses de l’admirer. Il redescend dans la cour, si sûrd’être beau qu’il est incapable de rancune. Sonmariage sera pour demain. Et, ne sachant que fairedu reste de la journée, il se dirige vers le perron. Ilgravit les marches, comme des marches de temple,d’un pas officiel. Il relève sa robe à queue toutelourde des yeux qui n’ont pu se détacher d’elle. Ilrépète encore une fois la cérémonie.

2 2. Le grillon C’est l’heure où, las d’errer, l’insecte nègre revientde promenade et répare avec soin le désordre de sondomaine. D’abord il ratisse ses étroites allées desable. Il fait du bran de scie qu’il écarte au seuil desa retraite. Il lime la racine de cette grande herbepropre à le harceler. Il se repose. Puis il remonte saminuscule montre. A-t-il fini? Est-elle cassée? Il serepose encore un peu. Il rentre chez lui et ferme saporte. Longtemps il tourne sa clef dans la serruredélicate. Et il écoute: Point d’alarme dehors. Mais ilne se trouve pas en sûreté. Et comme par unechaînette dont la poulie grince, il descend jusqu’aufond de la terre. On n’entend plus rien. Dans lacampagne muette, les peupliers se dressent comme

Histoires naturellesJules Renard (1864-1910)

1 1. The PeacockHe is certainly going to marry today. It should havebeen yesterday. Dressed up, he was ready. He wasonly waiting for his fiancée. She did not come. Shecannot be late. Glorious, he walks with the mien ofan Indian prince and carries with him the richcustomary presents. Love gives brightness to hiscolours and his crest trembles like a lyre. Hisfiancée does not come. He climbs onto the roof andlooks towards the sun. He cries out: Léon! Léon!.That is how he calls his fiancée. He sees nothingcoming and no one answers. The birds are used toit and do not even raise their heads. They are tiredof admiring him. He comes down again into theyard, so certain that he is handsome that he isincapable of bitterness. His marriage will betomorrow. And, not knowing what to do with therest of the day, he goes towards the steps. He goesup them, as if they were the steps of a temple,ceremonially. He lowers his tail plumage, heavywith eyes that cannot part from it. He repeats theceremony once more.

2 2. The CricketIt is the hour when, tired of wandering, the blackinsect comes back from his walk and carefully putshis home in order. First he rakes its narrow alleysof sand. He makes sawdust, which he spreads onthe doorstep of his retreat. He files the root of thisgreat weed, to harass it. He rests. Then he windshis tiny watch. Has he finished? Is it broken? Herests again a little. He goes back into his house andshuts the door. For a long time he turns the key inthe delicate lock. And he listens: no alarm outside.But he does not think he is safe. And as if by a littlechain with a creaking pulley, he goes down rightinto the earth. Nothing more is heard. In the silentcountryside the poplars rise up like fingers in the

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Jeune, en bon point, de la ligne des Dieux,Et que sa voix, ses doits et l’espinetteMeinent ung bruyct doulx et melodieux,J’ay du plaisir, et d’oreilles et d’yeulxPlus que les sainctz en leur gloire immortelleEt autant qu’eulx je devien glorieuxDès que je pense estre ung peu ayme d’elle.

Cinq mélodies populaires grecques (Trad. Greek)

@ 1. Xypnise peXypnise pe, xypnise petro perdikaTinaxe ta phtera souTris elies ke mia vameniTin kardia mou œchis kameni.Chrysi korde, chrysi kordela souphera,Na plexis ta mallia sou ta chrysa.Vrelana yinou me teriKi yony mas stibe theri.

# 2. An pas pera katoAn pas pera kato, kato s’ton Ayo Sidero,S’ten Aya Parthena,s’ten Ayo Kostantino,Eki tha vris phos mou, phos mou ta mistikomouS’ten Aya Parthena, s’ten Aya phila ka tou kosmou!

$ 3. Pios allosPios allos o san emena xeriTin agape na kerna,Pes esi Vassiliki?Pios allos s’ten zonito mas cheri,Xeri na phora na phoriKetrella na s’agapa!

% 4 O! gli kia chara mouO! gli kia chara mouO! tis kardia parigoria mou,Tis psychis thisavre, tis zoïs tragoudi,

Young, comely, descended from the Gods,And as her voice, her fingers and the spinetMake a sound that is sweet and tuneful,I have pleasure, both from ears and from eyes,More than the saints in their immortal gloryAnd I become as glorious as themWhen I think I am a little loved by her.

Five Greek Folk-Songs

@ 1. Bride’s SongWake up, wake up, little partridge,Open your wings to the morning.Three beauty spots, and my heart is afire!See the gold ribbon I bring you,To tie around your hair.If you want, my fair one, come and let us marry!In our two families all are joined togethr!

# 2. There, by the churchThere, by the church,By the church of St Sidero,The church, O Holy Virgin,The church of St Constantine,They are gathered together,Assembled in infinite numbers,From the world, O Holy Virgin,From the world all the best!

$ 3. What gallant is to be compared with meWhat gallant is to be compared with meAmong those that we see passing by?Tell me, Royal Lady?See, hanging from my belt,pistols and a sharp sabre . . .And it is you that I love!

% 4. Song of the girls picking masticO joy of my soul,Joy of my heart,Treasure so dear to me;Joy of soul and heart,


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des doigts en l’air et désignent la lune.

3 3. Le cygne Il glisse sur le bassin, comme un traîneau blanc, dunuage en nuage. Car il n’a faim que des nuagesfloconneux qu’il voit naître, bouger, et se perdredans l’eau. C’est l’un d’eux qu’il désire. Il le vise dubec, et il plonge tout à coup son col vêtu de neige.Puis, tel un bras de femme sort d’une manche, il leretire. Il n’a rien. Il regarde: les nuages effarouchésont disparu. Il ne reste qu’un instant désabusé, carles nuages tardent peu à revenir, et, là-bas, oùmeurent les ondulations de l’eau, en voici un qui sereforme. Doucement, sur son léger coussin deplumes, le cygne rame et s’approche . . . Il s’épuiseà pêcher de vains reflets, et peut-être qu’il mourra,victime de cette illusion, avant d’attraper un seulmorceau de nuage. Mais qu’est-ce que je dis?Chaque fois qu’il plonge, il fouille du bec la vasenourrissante et ramène un ver. Il engraisse commeune oie.

4 4. Le martin-pêcheur Ça n’a pas mordu, ce soir, mais je rapporte une rareémotion. Comme je tenais ma perche de lignetendue, un martin-pêcheur est venu s’y poser. Nousn’avons pas d’oiseau plus éclatant. Il semblait unegrosse fleur bleue au bout d’une longue tige. Laperche pliait sous le poids. Je ne respirais plus, toutfier d’être pris pour un arbre par un martin-pêcheur.Et je suis sûr qu’il ne s’est pas envolé de peur, maisqu’il a cru qu’il ne faisait que passer d’une brancheà une autre.

5 5. La pintade C’est la bossue de ma cour. Elle ne rêve que plaiesà cause de sa bosse. Les poules ne lui disent rien:Brusquement, elle se précipite et les harcèle. Puiselle baisse sa tête, penche le corps, et, de toute lavitesse de ses pattes maigres, elle court frapper, deson bec dur, juste au centre de la roue d’une dinde.

air and point to the moon.

3 3. The SwanHe glides on the pond, like a white sleigh, fromcloud to cloud. For he only hungers for the fleecyclouds that he sees come into being, move, anddisappear in the water. It is one of them that hedesires. He aims at it with his beak, and hesuddenly plunges his snow-clad neck. Then, as awoman’s arm comes out of her sleeve, he pulls itback. He has nothing. He looks: the startled cloudshave disappeared. He stays only a moment,disillusioned, for the clouds delay only a littlebefore they return, and, down there, where theripples of the water die, there is one taking shapeagain. Gently, on his light cushion of feathers, theswan paddles and draws near . . . He is exhaustedwith fishing for vain reflections, and perhaps hewill die, a victim of this illusion, before catching asingle piece of cloud. But what do I say? Everytime that he plunges, he digs with his beak into thenourishing mud and brings out a worm. He isgrowing as fat as a goose.

4 4. The KingfisherNot a bite, this evening, but I had a rare feeling. AsI was holding my fishing-rod stretched out, akingfisher came and perched on it. We have nomore brilliant a bird. He seemed like a great blueflower on the end of a long stem. The rod bentunder the weight. I did not breathe, proud to havebeen taken for a tree by a kingfisher. And I am surethat he did not fly away for fear, but because hethought he was only passing from one branch toanother.

5 5. The Guinea FowlShe is the hunchback of my yard. She only wantsto fight because of her hump. The hens say nothingto her: suddenly she dashes forward and harassesthem. Then she lowers her head, bends her body,and, with all the speed her thin legs can manage,she runs to strike, with her hard beak, right at the

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Deux mélodies Hébraïques (Trad. Hebrew)

8 1. Kaddisch Yithgaddal weyithkaddash scheméh rabbabe’olmâ diverâ ‘khire’ outhé

veyamli’kh mal’khouté behhayyékhôn,ouveyome’khôn ouve’hayyé de’khol beth yisraëlba’agalâ ouvizman qariw weimrou. Amen.Yithbara’kh. Weyischtaba’h weyith paërweyithromam weyithnassé weithhaddarweyith’allé weyithhallal scheméh deqoudschâberi’kh hou, le’elà min kol bir’khayhaweschiratha touschbehatha wene’hamathâ daa mirânah! be’olma ah! weïmrou Amen.

9 2. L’énigme éternelle Frägt die Welt die alte CascheTra la la.Entfernt menTra la laUn as men willken men sagenTra la la.

Deux épigrammes de Clément Marot (French)Clément Marot (1496-1544)

0 1. D’Anne qui me jecta de la neige Anne par jeu me jecta de la neigeQue je cuidoys froide certainement:Mais c’estoit feu, l’expérience en ay-jeCar embrasé je fuz soubdainementPuisque le feu loge secretementDedans la neige, où trouveray-je placePour n’ardre point? Anne, ta seule grâceEstaindre peut le feu que je sens bienNon point par eau, par neige, ne par glace,Mais par sentir ung feu pareil au mien.

! 2. D’Anne jouant de l’espinette Lorsque je voy en ordre la brunette

Two Hebrew Songs

8 1. KaddishHe shall be magnified, sanctified, His name greatthroughout the world that He

created according to His will,and He shall set up His kingdom in your lifetime,in your days and in the life of the whole house of Israel,quickly and soon, in the time at hand. Let us say Amen.May His holy name be blessed, praised and glorified, adored, honoured.May He be blessed above all blessingsand hymns and words of comfort that are ever spoken,Ah! In the world. Ah! Let us say Amen.

9 2. The Eternal RiddleThe world asksthe old question:Tra la la.One answers:Tra la la.If one wantsone can say:Tra la la.

Deux épigrammes de Clément MarotClément Marot (1496-1544)

0 1. Of Anne who threw some snow at meAnne in sport threw some snow at meThat I certainly found cold:But it was fire, the experience that I had,For I was suddenly aflameSince the fire dwells secretlyIn the snow, where shall I find a placeWhere I shall not burn? Anne, your grace aloneCan put out the fire that I feel,Not water, not snow, not ice,But by feeling a fire like mine.

! 2. Of Anne playing the spinetWhen I see rightly the brunette,

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Cette poseuse l’agaçait. Ainsi, la tête bleuie, sesbarbillons à vif, cocardière, elle rage du matin ausoir. Elle se bat sans motif, peut-être parce qu’elles’imagine toujours qu’on se moque de sa taille, deson crâne chauve et de sa queue basse. Et elle necesse de jeter un cri discordant qui perce l’aircomme une pointe. Parfois elle quitte la cour etdisparaît. Elle laisse aux volailles pacifiques unmoment de répit. Mais elle revient plus turbulente etplus criarde. Et, frénétique, elle se vautre par terre.Qu’a-t’elle donc? La sournoise fait une farce. Elleest allée pondre son oeuf à la campagne. Je peux lechercher si ça m’amuse. Et elle se roule dans lapoussière comme une bossue.

.

6 Ballade de la reine morte d’aimer (French)Roland de Marès (1874-1955)En Bohême était une Reine,Douce sœur du Roi de Thulé,Belle entre toutes les Reines,Reine par sa toute Beauté.

Le grand Trouvère de BohêmeUn soir triste d’automne rouxLui murmura le vieux : « Je t’aime! »Âmes folles et cœurs si fous!...

Et la Très Belle toute blancheLe doux Poète tant aimaQue sur l’heure son âme blancheVers les étoiles s’exhala...

Les grosses cloches de BohêmeEt les clochettes de ThuléChantèrent l’Hosanna suprêmeDe la Reine morte d’aimer.

7 Tripatos (Greek)Kherya pou dhen idhen ilyosPoss ta pya noun ivatri.Keenas me ton alo leyi

centre of a turkey’s spread-out tail. This affectedbird annoyed her. Thus, her head blue, her wattlesraised, militant, she rages from morning toevening. She fights for no reason, perhaps becauseshe always thinks they are making fun of herheight, of her bald head and of her low tail. Andshe never stops letting out a discordant cry thatpierces the air like a knife. Sometimes she leavesthe yard and disappears. She leaves the peacefulhens a moment’s respite. But she comes back moreturbulent and more shrill. And, frenetically, shewallows on the ground. What is wrong with her,then? The cunning bird is playing a trick. She hasgone to lay her egg in the countryside. I can lookfor it, if that amuses me. And she rolls in the dustlike a hunchback.

6 Ballad of the Queen who died for loveRoland de Marès (1874-1955)In Bohemia was a QueenGentle sister of the King of Thule,Fair among all Queens,Queen through her utter beauty.

The great Troubadour of BohemiaOne sad evening of russet autumnMurmured to her, the old man: “I love you!”Mad souls and hearts so mad! . . .

And the Very Fair One, all white,The gentle Poet loved so muchThat on the hour her white soulBreathed out towards the stars . . .

The great bells of BohemiaAnd the little bells of ThuleSang the supreme HosannaOf the Queen dead for love.

7 Tripatos Hands that the sun did not seeAs the doctors take themOne says to the other:

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Et le gai logis, et le vêtement.Je vous aime mieux que l’or et l’argent!Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine!

Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine,Vous chantez dès l’aube avec les oiseaux;Eté comme hiver, chanvre ou laine fine,Par vous, jusqu’au soir, charge les fuseaux.Vous chantez dès l’aube avec les oiseaux;Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine!

Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine,Vous me filerez mon suaire étroit,Quand, près de mourir, et courbant l’échine,Je ferai mon lit éternel et froid.Vous me filerez mon suaire étroit,Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine!

7 Noël des jouets (French)Maurice Ravel Le troupeau verni des moutonsRoule en tumulte vers la crêche.Les lapins tambours, brefs et rêches,Couvrent leurs aigres mirlitons.Vierge Marie, en crinoline,Ses yeux d’émail sans cesse ouverts,En attendant Bonhomme hiverVeille Jésus qui se dodineCar, près de là, sous un sapin,Furtif, emmitoufflé dans l’ombreDu bois, Belzébuth, le chien sombre,Guette l’Enfant de sucre peint.Mais les beaux anges incassablesSuspendus par des fils d’archalDu haut de l’arbuste hiémalAssurent la paix des étables.Et leur vol de clinquant vermeilQui cliquette en bruits symétriquesS’accorde au bétail mécaniqueDont la voix grêle bêle:“Noël! Noël! Noël!”

And a cheerful home, and clothes.I love you better than gold and silver!O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin.

O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin,You sing from dawn with the birds;Summer like winter, hemp or fine wool,Until evening the spindles are loaded by you.You sing from dawn with the birds;O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin.

O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin,You will spin for me my narrow shroud, When, near death, and my back bent,I shall make my eternal cold bed.You will spin for me my narrow shroud,O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin.

7 The Toys’ ChristmasMaurice Ravel The varnished flock of sheep Rolls tumultuously towards the manger.The rabbit drummers, short and rough,Cover their shrill toy reed-pipes.The Virgin Mary, in crinoline,Enamel eyes always open,While waiting for Father Christmas,Watches over Jesus, who rocks,For near, under a pine-tree,Furtive, muffled up in the shadowOf the wood, Beelzebub, the dark dog,Looks at the Child of painted sugar.But the beautiful angels, unbreakable,Hung on brass wiresFrom the top of the winter treePromise peace to the stables.And their flight of shiny silver-giltThat clicks in symmetric soundsFits with the mechanical animalsWhose voices bleat thinly:“Noël! Noël! Noël!”


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Poss dhen ineya zoi.Tralilila lalalala lililili la.

Trois chansons (French)Maurice Ravel

8 1. Trois beaux oiseaux du ParadisTrois beaux oiseaux du ParadisMon ami z-il est à la guerreTrois beaux oiseaux du ParadisOnt passé par ici.

Le premier était plus bleu que le ciel,Mon ami z-il est à la guerreLe second était couleur de neigeLe troisième rouge vermeil.

« Beaux oiselets du ParadisMon ami z-il est à la guerreQu’apportez par ici ? »« J’apporte un regard couleur d’azurTon ami z-il est à la guerreMoi, sur beau front couleur de neige,Un baiser dois mettre, encore plus pur ».

Oiseau vermeil du Paradis,Mon ami z-il est à la guerreQue portez vous ainsi ?« Un joli coeur tout cramoisi »Ton ami z-il est à la guerre« Ha! je sens mon coeur qui froidit...Emportez-le aussi ».

9 2. Nicolette Nicolette, à la vesprée,S’allait promener au pré,Cueillir la pâquerette, la jonquille et la muguet,Toute sautillante, toute guillerette,Lorgnant ci, là de tous les côtés,Rencontra vieux loup grognant,Tout hérissé, l’oeil brillant;« Hé là! ma Nicolette, viens tu pas chez Mère Grand ? »

How can it be that she will not live? Tralili lalalalala lililili la.

Three SongsMaurice Ravel

8 1. Three Beautiful Birds from ParadiseThree beautiful birds from Paradise,My friend is at the war,Three beautiful birds from ParadisePassed this way.

The first was bluer than the sky,My friend is at the war,The second was the colour of snow,The third vermilion red.

‘Beautiful little birds from Paradise,My friend is at the war,What are you bringing here?’‘I bring an azure-coloured look,Your friend is at the war,I, on your fair brow, the colour of snow,Must place a kiss, still purer.’

‘Vermilion bird from Paradise,My friend is at the war,What are you bringing here?’‘A pretty heart all crimson’,Your friend is at the war,‘Ah! I feel my heart grow cold,Take it away too!’

9 2. NicoletteNicolette, in the evening,Went for a walk in the field,To pick daisy, jonquil and lily of the valley,Skipping, cheerful,Looking here and there, on all sides, Met a peevish old wolf,All bristling, its eyes shining;‘Hey there, Nicolette, aren’t you coming toGrandma’s?’

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Wi’ lightsome heart I stretch’d my handAnd pu’d a rosebud from the tree.But my fause lover stole the rose,And left the thorn wi’ me.

4 Canzone italiana (Trad. Italian)M’affaccio la finestra e vedo l’onde,Vedo le mie miserie che sò granne!Chiamo l’amore mio, nun m’arrisponde! Chiamo l’amore mio, nun m’arrisponde!

5 Chanson hébraïque (Trad. Hebrew)Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Zi weiss tu, var wemen du steihest?“Lifnei Melech Malchei hamlochim”, Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Wos ze westu bai Ihm bet’n?“Bonei, chajei, M’sunei,” Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Oif was darfs tu Bonei?“Bonim eiskim batoiroh,” Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Oif wos darfs tu Chajei?“Kol chai joiducho,” Tatunju.

Mejerke, main Suhn, oi Mejerke, main Suhn,Oif wos darfs tu M’sunei?“W’ochalto w’sowoto uweirachto”,Tatunju.

6 Chanson du rouet (French)Charles-Marie René Leconte de Lisle (1818-1894)Ô mon cher rouet, ma blanche bobine,Je vous aime mieux que l’or et l’argent!Vous me donnez tout, lait, beurre et farine,

4 Italian SongI look from the window and see the waves,I see my troubles that are so great!I call my love, no-one answers!I call my love, no-one answers!

5 Hebrew SongMayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Do you know before whom you stand?“Before the King of Kings,” my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,What do you ask of him?“Sons, life, food,” my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Why do you want sons?“Sons to study the Torah”, my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Why do you want life?“Everything living shall give thanks”, my father.

Mayerke my son, O Mayerke, my son,Why do you want food?“You shall eat, be satisfied, and bless God,”my father.

6 Song of the Spinning-WheelCharles-Marie René Leconte de Lisle (1818-1894)O my dear spinning-wheel, my white bobbin, I love you better than gold and silver!You give me everything, milk, butter and flour,

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A perte d’haleine, s’enfuit Nicolette,Laissant là cornette et socques blancs.

Rencontra page joli,Chausses bleues et pourpoint gris,« Hé là! ma Nicolette, veux tu pas d’un doux ami ?Sage, s’en retourna, très lentement, le cœur bien marri.

Rencontra seigneur chenu,Tors, laid, puant et ventru« Hé là! ma Nicolette veux tu pas tous ces écus ? »Vite fut en ses bras, bonne NicoletteJamais au pré n’est plus revenue.

0 3. Ronde N’allez pas au bois d’OrmondeJeunes filles, n’allez pas au bois:Il y a plein de satyres, de centaures,

de malins sorciers,Des farfadets et des incubes,Des ogres, des lutins,Des faunes, des follets, des lamies,Diables, diablots, diablotins,Des chèvre-pieds, des gnomes, des démons Des loups-garous, des elfes, des myrmidons,Des enchanteurs et des mages, des stryges, des

sylphes, des moines bourrus,Des cyclopes, des djinns, gobelins, korrigans,

cromans, kobolds...

Ah! N’allez pas au bois d’Ormonde,Jeunes garçons, n’allez pas au bois:Il y a plein de faunesses, de bacchantes

et de males fées,Des satyresses, des ogresses, et des babaïagas,Des centauresses et des diablesses,Goules sortant du sabbat,Des farfadettes et des démones,Des larves, des nymphes, des myrmidones,Hamadryades, dryades, naïades, ménades, thyades,

Out of breath Nicolette ran away,Leaving there her mob-cap and white clogs.

Met a pretty young page,Blue breeches and grey doublet,‘Hey there, Nicolette, would you like a gentle friend?’Wisely she turned away, very slowly, her heart grieved.

She met a grey-haired old lord,Bandy, ugly, sweating and fat-bellied.‘Hey there, Nicolette, do you want all this money?’Quickly she was in his arms, good Nicolette,Never came back again to the field.

0 3. RoundelayDo not go to the Ormonde woods,Young girls, they are full of satyrs, centaurs,

wicked sorcerers,Hobgoblins and incubi,Ogres, sprites,Fauns, spirits, monsters.Devils, imps, little imps,Goat-footed creatures, gnomes, demons,Were-wolves, elves, myrmidons,Enchanters and magi, vampires,

sylphs, curmudgeonly monks,Cyclopes, djinns, goblins, wicked fairies,

necromancers, kobolds,

Do not go to the Ormonde woods,Young boys, they are full of she-fauns, bacchantes

and wicked fairiesShe-satyrs, ogresses and babyagas,She-centaurs and devils,Ghouls coming from their Sabbath,She-hobgoblins and demons,Worm-creatures, nymphs, she-myrmidons,Hamadryads, dryads, naiads, maenads, thyads,

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1 Chanson espagnole (Trad. Spanish)Adios, men homino, adios,Ja qui te marchas pr’aguerra: Non t’olvides d’aprendinaQuiche qued’ a can’a terra.La la la la ...

Castellanos de Castilla,Tratade ben os gallegos:Cando van, van como rosas,Cando ven, ven como negros.La la la la ...

2 Chanson française (Limousin French)(Chant populaire limousin) Janeta ount anirem gardar,Qu’ajam boun tems un’oura? Lan la!Aval, aval, al prat barrat;la de tan belas oumbras! Lan la!Lou pastour quita soun mantel,Per far siere Janetan. Lan la!Janeta a talamen jougat,Que se ies oublidada, Lan la!

3 Chanson écossaise (Trad. English)Robert Burns (1759-1796)

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon,How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,And I’m sae weary fu’ o’ care?Ye’ll break my heart, ye warbling bird,That warbles on the flowry thorn,Ye mind me o’ departed joys.Departed never to return.

Oft hae I rov’d by bonnie Doon,By morning and by evening shineTo hear the birds sing o’ their lovesAs fondly once I sang o’ mine.

1 Spanish songFarewell, my man, farewell,Since you are going to the war;Do not forget to send To those left in this country.La la la la . . .

Castilians from CastilleTreat the Galicians well. They go, they go like roses,They come back, come back like blacks.La la la la . . .

French Limousin Folk-Song

Jeanneton, where shall we go to guard the flock,To have a good time for an hour? Lan la!There, there in the fenced meadow;There are such fine shadows there! Lan la!The shepherd take his coat off,To make somewhere for Jeanneton to sit. Lan la! Jeanneton sported so muchThat she forgot herself there. Lan la!

CD 1


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follettes, lémures, gnomides, succubes, gorgones, gobelines...

Ah! N’irons plus au bois d’Ormonde,Hélas! plus jamais n’irons au bois.Il n’y a plus de satyres, plus de nymphes

ni de males fées.Plus de farfadets, plus d’incubes,Plus d’ogres, de lutins De faunes, de follets, de lamies,Diables, diablots, diablotins,De chèvre-pieds, de gnomes, de démons,De loups-garous, ni d’elfes, de mymidons,Plus d’enchanteurs ni de mages, de stryges,

de sylphes, de moines bourrus,De cyclopes, de djinns, de diabloteaux, d’éfrits,

d’aegypans, de sylvains,Gobelins, korrigans, nécromans, kobolds... Ah!Les malavisé(e)s vieilles/vieux les ont effarouchés... Ah!

! Ronsard à son âme (French)Pierre de Ronsard (1524-1585) Amelette Ronsardelette,Mignonnelette, doucelette,Très chère hostesse de mon corps,Tu descens là-bas, faiblelette,Pasle, maigrelette, seulette,Dans le froid royaume des mors;Toutesfois simple, sans remorsDe meurtre, poison, et rancune,Méprisant faveurs et trésors,Tant enviez par la commune.Passant, j’ay dit: suy ta fortune,Ne trouble mon repos, je dors.

@ Les grands vents venus d’outremer (French)Henri de Régnier (1864-1936)Les grands vents venus d’outremerPassent par la ville, l’hiver,Comme des étrangers amers.

Spirits, lemurs, gnomes, succubi, gorgons, goblins.

Ah! We will never go again to the Ormonde woods,Alas! We shall never go the woods.There are no more satyrs, no more nymphs nor

wicked fairies.No more hobgoblins, no more incubi,No more ogres, no more spritesFauns, spirits, monsters,Devils, imps, little imps,Goat-footed creatures, gnomes, demonsWere-wolves, nor elves, myrmidons,No more enchanters nor magi, vampires,

sylphs, curmudgeonly monks,Cyclopes, djinns, little devils, efrits,

Pans, woodland spirits,Goblins, wicked spirits, necromancers, kobolds . . . Ah!The ill-advised old women/men have frightenedthem away . . . Ah!

! Ronsard to His SoulPierre de Ronsard (1524-1585) Little soul, little Ronsard,Little darling, sweet little one,Dearest guest of my body,You come down there, weak little one,Pale, thin, alone,Into the cold realm of the dead;Always simple, without remorseFor murder, poison, bitterness,Despising favours and treasures,So envied by all.Passing, I said: follow your fortune,Do not trouble my rest, I am sleeping.

@ The great winds from beyond the seaHenri de Régnier (1864-1936)The great winds that come from beyond the seaPass though the town, in winter,Like bitter strangers.

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Founded in 1101 by Robert d’Arbrissel and ruled over for centuries by the most powerful of abbesses, the Abbeyof Fontevraud was, before the Revolution, the richest and most important monastery in France. In the year 2001Fontevraud celebrated its 900th Anniversary.

Heir to a prestigious past, Fontevraud also served as a prison from 1804 to 1965. Fontevraud is now home tothe Cultural Centre for the West of France. The Centre Culturel de l’Ouest was set up in 1975. This project wasplanned by the Ministry of Culture, and the offices of the Région de Pays de la Loire. Its sole aim is to promote theAbbey’s exceptional heritage and with the aid of new technologies, to bring together the worlds of art and history,to link architecture with virtual reality, to advance research in the field of heritage. This is Fontevraud’s vocation.To be not only the Villa Medici of culturally orientated multimedia, but also an important domain for music andsymposia. Fontevraud aims to strive towards excellence. The events for the 900th anniversary were marked by anumber of seminars and the inauguration of the multimedia project, linking heritage and modern technology. Theinauguration included the film by Alain Escalle, L’âme et la Pierre (The Soul and the Rock) which is continuouslybroadcast in the refectory and the interactive consoles present both the history and the architecture of Fontevraud.The following Easter festival themed upon churches from the East, was attended by representatives from some ofthe most prestigious venues in Armenia, Russia, Greece and Lebanon. This coincided with an important stage in theembellishment of the abbey; the completion of works in the gardens of the Cloister of the Great Minster to the heartof the abbey, which had been absent for many years. The summer brought concerts of Gregorian chants and thevoices of the Rencontres Imaginaires.

Abbey of Fontevraud and the Centre Culturel de l’Ouest

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Ils se concertent, graves et pâles,Sur les places, et leurs sandalesEnsablent le marbre des dalles.

Comme de crosses à leurs mains fortes,Ils heurtent l’auvent et la porteDerrière qui l’horloge est morte.

Et les adolescents amersS’en vont avec eux vers la mer.

# Sainte (French)Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898)A la fenêtre recélantLe santal vieux qui se dédoreDe la viole étincelantJadis selon flûte ou mandore

Est la sainte pâle étalantLe livre vieux qui se déplieDu Magnificat ruisselantJadis selon vêpre ou complie

A ce vitrage d’ostensoirQue frôle une harpe par l’AngeFormée avec son vol du soirPour la délicate phalange

Du doigt que sans le vieux santalNi le vieux livre elle balanceSur le plumage instrumental,Musicienne du silence.

$ Sur l’herbe (French)Paul Verlaine (1844-1896) L’abbé divague. - Et toi, marquis,Tu mets de travers ta perruque.- Ce vieux vin de Chypre est exquis;Moins, [Camargo], que votre nuque.

- Ma flamme . . . Do, mi, sol, la, si.- L’abbé, ta noirceur se dévoile.- Que je meure, mesdames, si

They come together, serious and pale,On the squares, and their sandalsBring sand on the marble paving-stones.

As if with rifle-butts in their strong hands,They beat against the porch roof and the doorBehind which the clock has died.

And the bitter young menGo away with them towards the sea.

# SaintStéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898)At the window harbouringThe old sandalwood, its gilt flaking off,Of the viol that once sparkledWith flute or mandora

Is the pale saint showingThe old book that unfoldsOf the Magnificat that once flowedFor Vespers or Compline

At this monstrance glassThat the Angel’s harp brushesFormed with his evening flightFor the delicate tip

Of the finger that without the old sandalwoodOr the old book she balancesOn the plumage of the instrument,Musician of silence.

$ On the grassPaul Verlaine (1844-1896) The abbé digresses: And you, Marquis,You are putting your wig on crooked.This old Cyprus wine is exquisite;Less, Camargo, than the nape of your neck.

My dear . . . do, mi, sol, la si.Abbé, your baseness is shown up.May I die, ladies, if

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David Abramovitz Born in New York in 1949, David Abramovitz began piano studies at the age of five. He took a bachelor’s degreein musicology at Princeton and a master’s degree in piano at the Manhattan School of Music, studying with RobertHelps. In 1970 a Fulbright scholarship took him to Rome to work with Bruno Canino. Settling in Europe in 1976,first in Zürich as coach at the Opera Studio and soloist with the orchestra, then in 1977, recipient of two successivescholarships (American and French) in Paris to work with Nadia Boulanger, he gave his first concerts in Europe withCathy Berberian in Germany, then in Bulgaria, Poland, France and Switzerland. He has accompanied manyrenowned singers, including Régine Crespin, Hans Hotter, Hugues Cuenod, Gérard Souzay, Rita Gorr, MadyMesplé, Bernard Kruysen, Frederica Von Stade, Lucy Shelton, Edita Gruberova, Felicity Lott, David Pittman-Jennings, as well as others from a younger generation including Natalie Dessay, Jean-Paul Fouchécourt and others,and accompanied numerous master-classes. He has collaborated on productions at the Paris and Montpellier Operas,and has taught at the Paris Opera School, the CNIPAL in Marseille and the Conservatory in Poitiers. As a recitalsoloist he has performed all over the world, and has also collaborated on a theatre and music endeavour based onthe correspondence of George Sand, performing Chopin to the George Sand of Leslie Caron (in Chichester in 1997and Melbourne in 1999). A passionate chamber musician, he founded and co-directed the Musiciens Amoureux inParis from 1984 to 1988, and has performed with numerous instrumentalists, among them Maurice Gendron andGérard Caussé. His recordings include Fauré songs with Laurent Naouri and Claire Brua, songs by Henri Sauguet,an album of French cabaret songs of the Belle Epoque with Denise Bahous, and a recording of Poulenc songs withLaurent Naouri.

Xavier GagnepainFollowing success in international competitions, including those of Munich and São Paulo, the cellist XavierGagnepain embarked on a career as a soloist and chamber-music player, appearing in the former capacity with majororchestras in France and throughout Europe. In chamber music he collaborates with Hortense Cartier-Bresson andAbdel Rahman El Bacha and is the cellist of the Rosamonde Quartet. He has a particular interest in less usualrepertoire, particularly of the last and present century and in 1996 was the first to perform the twelve pieces on thename of Paul Sacher, an achievement previously unattained in contemporary solo cello repertoire. His recordingsinclude concertos and chamber music ranging from duos to sextets. He is an enthusiastic teacher, serving at theBoulogne-Billancourt Conservatoire and in numerous master-classes. His Du musicien en général…au violoncellisteen particulier has been particularly well received.

Vicenç PratsVicenç Prats was born in Catalonia and lives in Paris, where he is principal flautist in the Orchestre de Paris. He hasappeared as a soloist with a number of orchestras in France and elsewhere, and has won awards in majorinternational competitions in Japan and Barcelona, and first prizes in flute and chamber music at the ParisConservatoire, where he studied with Michel Debost, Alain Marion, Jean-Pierre Rampal and Christian Lardé.


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Je ne vous décroche une étoile.

- Je voudrais être petit chien !Embrassons nos bergères, l’une

Après l’autre, Messieurs, eh bien ?Do, mi, sol. - Hé ! bonsoir la Lune !

% Rêves (French)Léon-Paul Fargue (1878-1947)Un enfant courtAutour des marbresUne voix sourdreDes hauts parages

Les yeux si tendres De ceux qui t’aimentSongent et passentEntre les arbres.

Aux grandes orguesDe quelque gareGronde la vagueDes grands départs.

Dans un vieux rêveAu pays vagueDes choses brêves Qui meurent sages.

^ Vocalise-étude (en forme de habanera)

Chansons madécasses (French)Evariste Désiré de Forges Parny (1753-1814)

& 1. Nahandove Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove ! L’oiseau nocturnea commencé ses cris, la pleine lune brille sur matête, et la rosée naissante humecte mes cheveux.Voici l’heure: qui peut t’arrêter, Nahandove, ô belleNahandove !

Le lit de feuilles est préparé; je l’ai parsemé defleurs et d’herbes odoriférantes; il est digne de tescharmes. Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove !

I do not unhook a star for you.

I would like to be a little dog!Let us kiss our shepherdesses, oneAfter the other, gentlemen, shall we?Do, mi, sol. - Hey! Good evening, Moon!

% DreamsLéon-Paul Fargue (1878-1947)A child runsAround the marble statuesA voice arisesFrom the lofty surroundings

Eyes so tenderOf those who love youDream and passAmong the trees.

To the great organsOf some railway stationRumbles the waveOf great departures.

In an old dreamIn a misted countrysideSome brief thingsThat die sensibly.

^ Vocalise-study (in the form of a habanera)

Songs of MadagascarEvariste Désiré de Forges Parny (1753-1814)

& 1. NahandoveNahandove, O beautiful Nahandove! The bird ofnight has begun his cries, the full moon shines onmy head, and the dew, new-forming, moistens myhair. This is the hour: what can be stopping you,Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove?

The bed of leaves is ready, I have strewn it withperfumed flowers and herbs, it is worthy of yourcharms, Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove!

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Claire BruaThe mezzo-soprano Claire Brua began her studies at the Nice Conservatoire, while also reading for a master’sdegree in literature. She completed her training with Lorraine Nubar, Gundula Janowitz and Margeet Honig. Shetook a first prize at the Paris Conservatoire under William Christie and has appeared internationally with Les artsflorissants, notably as Dido in Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas at the Bastille and in Rome. She worked in the operaschool of the Opéra Bastille and appeared at the Palais Garnier in Manuel de Falla’s Sombrero de tres picos and asMercedes in Carmen at the Opéra-Bastille. In early music Claire Brua has worked with René Jacobs, Roland deLulli, Jean-Claude Malgloire and Jordi Savall, but has an extensive repertoire and has appeared in leading rôles inoperas ranging from Cavalli to Gounod. Her recordings include distinguished performances in early repertoire andin French song, a particular interest.

Gérard TheruelA pupil of Robert Manuel at the National Conservatoire of Dramatic Art, the baritone Gérard Theruel completed hismusical studies at the Paris Conservatoire, where he took first prizes in chamber music and in singing. He startedhis operatic career at the Opéra de Lyon, where he sang Claudio in Berlioz’s Béatrice et Bénédict, Orphée inMilhaud’s Les malheurs d’Orphée, a rôle he repeated in Berlin. He sang the rôle of Pelléas in Peter Brook’sImpressions sur Pelléas, and returned for the re-opening of the Opéra de Lyon, singing Epaphus in Lully’s operaPhaëton and Demetrio in Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In 1997 he was awarded the French critics’ prizeand has continued his career in the opera house and concert hall, in addition to a successful series of recordings.

Laurent NaouriThe baritone Laurent Naouri began his musical studies in 1986. Whilst he was still studying, the CNIPAL inMarseilles gave him the chance to perform the rôle of Guglielmo in Così fan tutte. These performances led to anumber of concerts and recordings, including the Radio France and Montpellier Festivals. He completed his studiesat the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London, where he sang several rôles, including those of the TheatreDirector in Poulenc’s Les mamelles de Tirésias, Ford in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and Ferdinand in Prokofiev’sBetrothal in a Monastery for Rostropovich. His professional career began properly in 1992 in the title rôle ofMilhaud’s Christopher Columbus at the opening of the Imperial Theatre in Compiègne. He has since performed inFrance, Italy, Holland, Belgium and Spain with a wide repertoire ranging from Monteverdi to contempory worksand including such rôles as Eugene Onegin in Nantes, Tarquin in Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia at Tourcoing,Lully’s Roland at Montpellier and Bottom in Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Lyon, with such conductorsas Maurizio Benini, William Christie, René Jacobs, Marc Minkowski and Kent Nagano. Other notable appearancesinclude the four leading rôles in Offenbach’s Les contes d’Hoffmann in Metz and Tours, his Opéra Bastille début asFigaro in The Marriage of Figaro and as Des Grieux in Massenet’s Manon, his Palais Garnier début as Theseus inRameau’s Hippolyte et Aricie, Hidraot in Lully’s Armide in Nice, Gluck’s Iphigénie en Tauride in Amsterdam, DonGiovanni at the Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Fieramosca in Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, with Ravel’s L’enfant et lessortilèges and Prokofiev’s War and Peace at the Opéra Bastille. Laurent Naouri gives frequent recitals and oratorioperformances, and performances abroad include L’enfant et les sortilèges with the Berlin Philharmonic under SimonRattle. His recordings range from Lully and Rameau to Offenbach and Poulenc.

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Elle vient. J’ai reconnu la respiration précipitéeque donne une marche rapide; j’entends lefroissement de la pagne qui l’enveloppe; c’est elle,c’est Nahandove, la belle Nahandove !

Reprends haleine, ma jeune amie; repose-toi surmes genoux. Que ton regard est enchanteur ! Que lemouvement de ton sein est vif et délicieux sous lamain qui le presse! Tu souris, Nahandove, ô belleNahandove !

Tes baisers pénètrent jusqu’à l’âme; tes caressesbrûlent tous mes sens; arrête, ou je vais mourir.Meurt-on de volupté, Nahandove, ô belleNahandove ?

Le plaisir passe comme un éclair. Ta doucehaleine s’affaiblit, tes yeux humides se referment, tatête se penche mollement, et tes transportss’éteignent dans la langueur. Jamais tu ne fus sibelle, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove ! ...

Tu pars, et je vais languir dans les regrets et lesdésirs. Je languirai jusqu’au soir. Tu reviendras cesoir, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove !

* 2. Aoua! Aoua ! Méfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage.Du temps de nos pères, des Blancs descendirentdans cette île. On leur dit: Voilà des terres, que vosfemmes les cultivent; soyez justes, soyez bons, etdevenez nos frères.

Les Blancs promirent, et cependant ils faisaientdes retranchements. Un fort menaçant s’éleva; letonnerre fut renfermé dans des bouches d’airain;leurs prêtres voulurent nous donner un Dieu quenous ne connaissons pas, ils parlèrent enfind’obéissance et d’esclavage.

Plutôt la mort. Le carnage fut long et terrible;mais malgré la foudre qu’ils vomissaient, et quiécrasait des armées entières, ils furent tousexterminés.

Aoua ! Aoua ! Méfiez-vous des Blancs !

Nous avons vu de nouveaux tyrans, plus forts etplus nombreux, planter leur pavillon sur le rivage:le ciel a combattu pour nous; il a fait tomber sur

She comes. I recognised the fast breathing fromher rapid step, I hear the rustling of the cloth thatcovers her. It is she, it is Nahandove, beautifulNahandove.

O catch your breath again, my young friend, reston my knees. How charming is your look! Howdeliciously alive is the movement of your breastunder the hand that presses it! You smile, Nahandove,O beautiful Nahandove!

Your kisses penetrate down to my soul, yourcaresses burn all my senses: stop, or I am going to die.Does one die from pleasure, Nahandove, O beautifulNahandove?

Pleasure passes in a flash, your sweet breath growsweaker, your moist eyes close again, your head bendsdown gently and your transports of delight arequenched in languor. Never have you been sobeautiful, Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove!

You go, and I shall languish in regrets and desires.I shall languish until evening. You will come backthis evening, Nahandove, O beautiful Nahandove!

* 2. Aoua! Aoua! Beware of the Whites, living on the coast. Inour fathers’ time some Whites landed on thisisland. they were told: There is land, let yourwomen cultivate it; be just, be virtuous, andbecome our brothers.

The Whites promised, and yet they madechanges. A menacing fort arose; there was thunderheld in mouths of bronze; their priests wanted togive us a God that we did not known, they spokefinally of obedience and slavery.

Death, rather. The carnage was long andterrible: but in spite of the thunderbolts theyspewed out and which wiped out whole armies,they were all exterminated.

Aoua! Aoua! Beware of the Whites!

We have seen new tyrants, strong and morenumerous, plant their banner on the coast: heavenhas fought for us; it has caused rain to fall on them,

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to a commission from Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge andreflect an eroticism that matches the texts but is unusualin Ravel. This is particularly evident in the first song,Nahandove. The cautionary Aoua! and the final Il estdoux are bitonal, the latter expressive of sultry languor.

The three songs of Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (DonQuixote to Dulcinea) [1/20-22] were written in 1932-33to texts by Paul Morand. They were originally intendedfor the great Russian singer Shalyapin in a film aboutCervantes, but not used for that purpose. In this final

work Ravel returns to Spain, basing each of the songs ona Spanish or Basque dance rhythm. The extravagantpromises of Chanson romanesque are followed by thesolemn prayer to St Michael of Chanson épique and thefinal more boisterous celebration of Chanson à boire(Drinking Song).

Keith Anderson

Inva MulaInva Mula was born in Albania and after triumph in a number of international competitions, including the GeorgesEnescu, Barcelona Madama Butterfly, and the 1993 First Placido Domingo Competition, was launched on aninternational career. She has appeared with Placido Domingo at the Opéra-Bastille in Paris, in Munich, Brusselsand elsewhere. She has made her débuts in major opera houses, including the Paris Opéra, Bonn, Hamburg, theVienna State Opera and the Verona Arena, as well as in leading venues in America, including her début at theMetropolitan Opera as Musetta in La Bohème. Collaboration with Riccardo Muti has brought appearances at LaScala and in major opera houses throughout Italy. She has won equal success in the concert hall. Inva Mula’srecordings include the rôle of Micaëla in Carmen, with Roberto Alagna and participation in Bizet’s Ivan IV.

Valérie MillotValérie Millot studied with Andréa Guiot at the Paris Conservatoire, winning two Premier Prix for opera andamassing a number of international competition successes. In 1988 she made her professional début singing LadyBillows in Britten’s Albert Herring before performing in the première of Antoine Duhamel’s Quatre-vingt-treizewith the Lyon Opera the following year. Other highlights of her operatic career include Marguerite (Faust) in Paris,productions of Mireille across France and at the Paris Opéra-comique, and Madame Lidoine (Dialogue descarmélites) at the Grand Théâtre in Geneva, in Strasbourg with Marthe Keller’s production, in the SavonlinnaFestival and at the 1999 BBC Proms in London. In May 1994 she sang Brunehild in Ernest Reyer’s Sigurd inMontpellier where she also sang in Faust with Roberto Alagna. She won great success as Elsa (Lohengrin) for theOpéra de Nancy and Opera of the Rhine, before making her début as Mimì (La Bohème) for the Opéra-Comique inParis. Subsequently she was acclaimed for her performances at the Avignon Opera in La Bohème, Faust, Mireilleand as the Countess in The Marriage of Figaro. Other engagements include Musetta (La Bohème) and Marianne(Der Rosenkavalier) for the Paris Opéra-Bastille, Elisabeth (Don Carlo) in Strasbourg, and La voix humaine inNancy and Saint-Etienne. She made her German début in Düsseldorf and Hamburg singing Elisabeth (Don Carlosin French) and Dialogues des carmélites. She recently triumphed in her first Tosca for Dijon and Massy. Herconcert performances have included Verdi’s Requiem, Ravel’s Shéhérazade in Paris, Beethoven’s ChoralSymphony in Toulouse, Poulenc’s Stabat Mater and Gloria, and Rossini’s Stabat Mater.


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eux les pluies, les tempêtes et les ventsempoisonnés. Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons, et nous vivons libres.

Aoua ! Méfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage.

* 3. Il est doux Il est doux de se coucher, durant la chaleur, sous unarbre touffu, et d’attendre que le vent du soir amènela fraîcheur. Femmes, approchez. Tandis que je merepose ici sous un arbre touffu, occupez mon oreillepar vos accents prolongés. Répétez la chanson de lajeune fille, lorsque ses doigts tressent la natte oulorsqu’assise auprès du riz, elle chasse les oiseauxavides.

Le chant plaît à mon âme. La danse est pour moipresque aussi douce qu’un baiser. Que vos passoient lents; qu’ils imitent les attitudes du plaisir etl’abandon de la volupté.

Le vent du soir se lève; la lune commence àbriller au travers des arbres de la montagne. Allez, etpréparez le repas.

storms and poisoned winds. They are no more, and we live, and we live in freedom.

Aoua! Beware of the Whites, coast-dwellers!

* 3. It is pleasantIt is pleasant to lie down, during the heat, under thedense foliage of a tree, and to wait for the eveningwind to bring freshness. Women, come near.While I rest here under the dense foliage of a tree,fill my ears with your voices. Sing again the songof the young girl, when her fingers plait the fibresof a mat or when sitting by the rice she chasesaway the greedy birds.

The song pleases my soul. The dance is for mealmost as sweet as a kiss. Take slow steps; let themimitate the attitudes of pleasure and the abandon ofdesire.

The evening wind arises; the moon starts toshine through the trees on the mountain. Go, makeready the meal.

English translations by Keith Anderson

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the spinet in the piano figuration of the second. The groupof early songs ends with the 1903 setting of an indifferentpoem by the pseudonymous Paul Gravollet, Manteau defleurs (Mantle of Flowers) [1/18] in which Raveleffectively prevails over any defects in the text.

The short cycle Shéhérazade, settings of three poemsfrom the collection of that name by his friend TristanKlingsor, originally with orchestra and not included here,opens a new period in Ravel’s songs. Between 1904 and1906 he set five Greek folk-songs, here sung, as at the firstperformance, in Greek, but more often performed with thetranslation by Michel Calvocoressi. Only the third andfourth of the original set were published, with threefurther songs added for the subsequent publication. Thefirst group of songs were set very quickly to illustrate alecture and the whole set, with the newly added songs,was first performed at a lecture-recital by Calvocoressi.The Cinq mélodies populaires grecques [1/12-16] isRavel’s first venture into the harmonization of folk-songs.In 1909 he set another Greek folk-song, Tripatos [2/7],before turning the following year to a group of songs inSpanish, Limousin French, English, Italian and Yiddish,the Chants populaires [1/1-5], with apt harmonizationsand piano accompaniments that enhance the melodies.

Ravel wrote his own words for the charming Noël desjouets (The Toys’ Christmas) [1/7] of 1905, with its child-like wonder at the figures of the crib. The piano suggeststhe bells of Christmas, with a vocal line that seems toprefigure both the Histoires naturelles [2/1-5] of 1906 andthe later collaboration with Colette, L’enfant et lessortilèges. The first of these is a successful attempt to setprose rather than verse. Jules Renard, author of thefamous novel of unhappy childhood Poil de carotte,turned from verse to the writing of prose sketches, at theirmost successful in the poetic observation of naturedepicted in Histoires naturelles, a collection of prose-poems illustrated by Toulouse-Lautrec, Bonnard andothers. Ravel sought to interpret these texts in musicalterms, the vocal line largely following the rhythms andintonations of the words. Renard, who enjoyed a veryconsiderable reputation, had doubts about the need formusical intervention, but was persuaded to hear the firstperformance of Ravel’s work, with its echoes, perceived

by the critic Emile Vuillermoz, of Ravel’s own spokenintonations.

The middle period of Ravel’s songs includes a settingin 1906 of Les grands vents venus d’outremer (The greatwinds that come from beyond the sea) [2/12], a poem bythe poet and novelist Henri de Régnier. The turbulenceevoked is reflected in the setting, as the winter windsblow, leading to the bleak ending. Sur l’herbe (On thegrass) [2/14) sets an evocative poem from Verlaine’sFêtes galantes, with its snatches of conversation in anidealised past world of Watteau. The Vocalise [2/16], astudy in the form of a habanera, was commissioned forthe Paris Conservatoire and later won wider fame invarious instrumental transcriptions.

Ravel’s Deux mélodies hébraïques (Two JewishSongs) [1/8-9] include the important Aramaic Kaddishtext, the cantor’s melismatic chant sparely supported bythe piano. The second song, L’énigme éternelle (TheEternal Enigma) is in Yiddish and of a very different kind,but imparting an air of mystery. The Trois chansons(Three Songs) [2/8-10] of 1914-15 were adapted as solosongs by the composer from his four-part originalunaccompanied settings of the same date. The words areby the composer and refer obliquely to the war in the birdsof paradise, with their blue, white and red colours, the lastbringing a soldier’s death. Nicolette has a simplenarrative, illustrated by the piano, and the final Ronde is acomic song.

Ronsard à son âme (Ronsard to his soul) [2/11] of1923-24 was Ravel’s contribution to a tribute to Ronsard,the Tombeau de Ronsard, for which a number of leadingcomposers provided settings. The flavour of the period isreflected in the open intervals of the accompaniment, withits suggestions of organum, recalling the earlier of the twoMarot songs. The evocative little setting of Rêves(Dreams) [2/15], a poem by Léon-Paul Fargue waswritten in 1927.

Ravel completed his Chansons madécasses(Madagascan Songs) [2/17-19] in 1926, settings of threepoems allegedly translated but possibly written by theCreole poet Evariste-Désiré de Forges, Vicomte de Parny,and published in 1787. For voice, flute, cello and piano intheir original version, the songs were written in response

554176-77bk Ravel US 19/09/2003 1:44 pm

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CD 1 62:13

1 Chanson espagnole † 2:262 Chanson française § 2:173 Chanson écossaise * 3:114 Chanson italienne ° 1:165 Chanson hébraïque ‡ 4:316 Chanson du rouet † 5:087 Noël des jouets † 3:17

Deux mélodies hébraïques ‡ 6:428 Kaddisch 5:169 L’énigme éternelle 1:25

Deux épigrammes de Clément Marot § 4:43

0 D’Anne qui me jecta de la neige 2:48! D’Anne jouent de l’espinette 1:55

Cinq mélodies populaires grecques * 8:27

@ Chanson de la mariée 1:31# Là-bas, vers l’église 1:45$ Quel galant m’est comparable 0:57% Chanson des cuielleuses

de lentisques 3:22^ Tout gai! 0:52

& Un grand sommeil noir ‡ 4:30* Manteau de fleurs ° 3:45( Si morne! ° 4:33

Don Quichotte à Dulcinée ‡ 7:29) Chanson romanesque 2:23¡ Chanson épique 3:23™ Chanson à boire 1:44

Publishers: Durand (tracks 1-2, 4-5, 8-9, 12-16 & 20-22); Salabert (tracks 3, 6, 17 & 19); Mathot (track 7); Max Eschig (track 10); Demets (track 11) and Hamelle (track 18)


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From his father, a Swiss engineer, Ravel inherited adelight in precision and, incidentally, in mechanical toys,while from his Basque mother he acquired a familiaritywith something of Spanish culture. Born in 1875 in thesmall coastal village of Ciboure in the Basque region ofFrance, he spent his childhood and adolescenceprincipally in Paris, starting piano lessons at the age ofseven and from the age of fourteen studying the piano inthe preparatory piano class of the Conservatoire. In 1895he left the Conservatoire, after failing to win the prizesnecessary for promotion, but resumed studies there threeyears later under Gabriel Fauré. His repeated failure towin the important Prix de Rome, even when well enoughestablished as a composer, disqualified at his fifth attemptin 1905, resulted in a scandal that led to changes in theConservatoire, of which Fauré became director.

Ravel’s career continued successfully in the yearsbefore 1914 with a series of works of originality,including important additions to the piano repertoire, tothe body of French song and, with commissions fromDyagilev, to ballet. During the war he enlisted in 1915 asa driver and the war years left relatively little time or willfor composition, particularly with the death of his motherin 1917. By 1920, however, he had begun to recover hisspirits and resumed work, with a series of compositions,including an orchestration of his choreographic poem Lavalse, rejected by Dyagilev and the cause of a rupture intheir relations. He undertook a number of engagements asa pianist and conductor in concerts of his own works, inFrance and abroad. All this was brought to an end by hisprotracted final illness, attributed to a taxi accident in1932, which led to his eventual death in 1937.

Ravel left some 39 songs, a dozen of which arearrangements of folk-songs. Although any division ofRavel’s work into periods of supposed development mayseem arbitrary with a composer whose essential styleseems, in other respects, to have been formed so early, itis convenient, at least, to take together the earlier songs,settings of individual poems, the composition of whichcoincides more or less with the composer’s association

with the Conservatoire. A second group follows thecomposition of the cycle with orchestra, Shéhérazade, in1903 and ends with the Chants populaires of 1910. Thisis followed in 1913 by the Trois poèmes de StéphaneMallarmé, for voice and instrumental ensemble, notincluded here, leading to the final Don Quichotte àDulcinée.

The earliest song is the Ballade de la reine morted’aimer (The Ballade of the Queen who died for love)[CD 2/6], a setting of a poem by Roland de Marès,suggesting in its reference to Thule the ballad of the Kingof Thule in Goethe’s Faust. The archaising tendency ofthe text is matched by Ravel’s setting in an archaic stylethat he was soon to explore elsewhere, with elements ofillustration in the sound of the bells that announce thedeath of the queen. There is something sinister about theVerlaine setting of 1895, Un grand sommeil noir (A greatblack sleep)[CD 1/17], with its menacing accompanimentand agonized climax. The pianist Alfred Cortotremembered his fellow-student as ‘a sarcastic,argumentative and aloof young man, who used to readMallarmé and visit Erik Satie’. For his first publishedsong, Sainte (Saint)[2/13], written in 1896, Ravel turnedto Mallarmé, the source of later significant inspiration. Ithas been suggested that the setting owes something toSatie, in its accompaniment of chords and perhaps in itsmood and direction liturgiquement, which suits a poemthat gently contemplates St Cecilia. It was first performedin 1907.It was in 1898 that Ravel wrote his setting of Leconte de

Lisle’s Chanson du rouet (Song of the Spinning-Wheel)[1/6], a song that cannot help but recall Schubert’s settingof Gretchen’s spinning-song from Goethe’s Faust. Thepiano echoes the movement of the treadle and the wheel,with a final allusion, in the bass, to the Dies irae whendeath is mentioned. The same period brought the Deuxépigrammes de Clément Marot (Two Epigrams ofClément Marot) [1/10-11], sixteenth-century texts thatinvited archaism. This is suggested by the open fifths ofthe accompaniment of the first song, with reflections of

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)Songs


RAVELChansons • Songs

Histoires naturelles • Chansons madécasses

Inva Mula • Valérie Millot • Claire BruaGérard Theruel • Laurent Naouri

David Abramovitz, Piano

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CD 2 59:43

Histoires naturelles § 18:011 Le paon 4:422 Le grillon 3:263 Le cygne 3:364 Le martin-pêcheur 3:135 La pintade 3:04

6 Ballade de la reine morte d’aimer * 4:55

7 Tripatos * 1:43

Trois Chansons ° 6:218 Trois beaux oiseaux du paradis 2:439 Nicolette 1:480 Ronde 1:49

! Ronsard à son âme ‡ 2:23@ Les grands vents venus d’outremer ‡ 2:32# Sainte ‡ 2:49$ Sur l’herbe ‡ 2:15% Rêves † 1:26^ Vocalise - étude en forme

de habanera † 3:11

Chansons madécasses † 14:08& Nahandove 5:50* Aoua! 4:08( Il est doux... 4:11

with Vinçen Prat, Flute & Xavier Gagnepain, Cello

Publishers: Durand (tracks 1-5, 8-15 & 17-19); Salabert (tracks 6-7) and Leduc (track 16)


554176-77bk Ravel US 19/09/2003 1:44 pm

Ravel’s songs effortlessly evoke moods and atmosphere and through his skilled use ofharmony and tone colour create an enchanted world of vivid animal characterisations(Histoires naturelles), sultry eroticism (Chansons madécasses) and child-like wonder (Noël desjouets). This diverse collection, ranging from the early Ballade de la reine morte d’aimer to thethree songs of Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (1932-33), encompasses Ravel’s love of naturalsounds, dance rhythms and folk-song.

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MauriceRAVEL

(1875-1937)

Songs for Voice and PianoCD 1 62:13

1 Chanson espagnole 2:262 Chanson française 2:173 Chanson écossaise 3:114 Chanson italienne 1:165 Chanson hébraïque 4:316 Chanson du rouet 5:087 Noël des jouets 3:178-9 Deux mélodies hébraïques 6:420-! Deux épigrammes de

Clément Marot 4:43@-^ Cinq mélodies

populaires grecques 8:27& Un grand sommeil noir 4:30* Manteau de fleurs 3:45( Si morne! 4:33)-™ Don Quichotte à Dulcinée 7:29

CD 2 59:431-5 Histoires naturelles 18:016 Ballade de la reine

morte d’aimer 4:557 Tripatos 1:438-0 Trois Chansons 6:21! Ronsard à son âme 2:23@ Les grands vents venus

d’outremer 2:32# Sainte 2:49$ Sur l’herbe 2:15% Rêves 1:26^ Vocalise - étude en forme

de habanera 3:11&-( Chansons madécasses 14:08

Inva Mula and Valérie Millot, Sopranos • Claire Brua, Mezzo-Soprano Gérard Theruel and Laurent Naouri, Baritones • David Abramovitz, Piano

Recorded at L’Abbaye Royale de Fontevraud, France on the 22nd and 31st March and 1st - 2nd April 1997, 3rd April 1998, and 29th May 2000 • Producer: Paul Myers • Engineer / Editor: Roy Emerson

A complete track list can be found in the booklet • Booklet Notes: Keith Anderson Cover Picture: Yellow Haystacks - the Harvest by Paul Gauguin (1848-1903)

(The Art Archive / Musée d'Orsay Paris / Dagli Orti )

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Le grillon 3:26 Chansons • Songs Le cygne 3:36 Le paon aimer (The Ballade of the Queen who died...

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