Ravel-Ma mère l’oye Suite cover (Durand, 1912)

This week, I’ll focus on Ravel’s Ma mère l’oye Suite, which is an entirely new piece to me. It was written for four-hand piano, and later orchestrated by Ravel himself in 1911-12. Each movement represents a different fairy tale from Mother Goose, and many contain additional information to further address the programmatic nature of the music.

Initial Impressions

Ravel is doing his darnedest this year to make his way into my collection of cherished composers. He and I started our relationship with Le Tombeau de Couperin, and Ma mère l’oye  has proven to be great fun too. Fun melodies and masterful color.

First movement, what a profound way to start a piece! It feels to me like the slow movement of a Tchaikovsky symphony: dark, luscious, and plodding through the trees. With a title like “Mother Goose”, I certainly expected a frolicky type of piece, most likely bright and goofy. Ravel has taken a completely different path here with a rich, dark flute duet that drives the opening movement, passing off to the darker woodwinds in the second.

It’s in the third movement, that I feel the spirit that I’d expected from the piece as a whole. Boisterous, with elements pre-calling Copland and Orff. This movement also gives me, a new appreciator of Ravel, the harmonies that most remind me of Le Tombeau, the first piece of his that I learned.

Ravel-Ma mère l’oye Suite first page (Durand, 1912)

It’s been most intriguing to me this year, as many of my SSS entries are from the early 20th century, that our late 20th century “light classical” music (a term I’m co-opting to refer to mainstream music featuring strings and winds, i.e. film scores) is consistently derivative of that bygone era’s serious music. The fourth movement of Mother Goose feels to me like the light, clarinet theme you might hear in Up, Driving Miss Daisy, or Life is Beautiful. Spirit-inspired, not necessarily with identical notes or harmonies.

The final movement doesn’t speak to me in any significant manner at first. At its outset, it seems simply to be a lovely way to end the piece. But, then, out of nowhere, a triumphant conclusion, which reminds me of Firebird‘s conclusion, fires up, only to finish as quickly as it started. A bit disappointing. I’d love to have seen where that could’ve gone across a five minute stretch.