United Kingdom Various: Amy Dickson (saxophone) & Catherine Milledge (piano). Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama, Cardiff, 29.11.2024. (GPu)
Paule Maurice – Tableaux de Provence (1948-55)
Jacques Ibert – Selection from Histoires (1922)
Jean Françaix – Cinq danses exotiques (1961)
Fernande Decruck – Sonata for alto saxophone and piano (1943)
Amy Dickson and Catherine Milledge began their unassuming, but thoroughly engaging programme with Paule Maurice’s Tableaux de Provence. This suite of Provencal ‘pictures’ was originally written for alto saxophone and orchestra and was premiered in that form (on December 9, 1958) by saxophonist Jean-Marie Londeix, with the Orchestre Symphonique Brestois conducted by the composer’s husband, Pierre Lanier. However, it seems to be more often played (and heard) in a version for saxophone and piano. The score carries a dedication to Marcel Mule. The Tableaux consists of five pieces. Previous hearings of the work (which have not been frequent events) had persuaded me that the most interesting of these were the first, ‘Farandole des jeunes filles’, and the fourth, ‘Des alyscamps l’âme soupire’ and those impressions were largely confirmed by this latest encounter with the work.
The farandole is a historic chain-dance of Provence. Readers may know it from its appearance in Bizet’s L’Arlésienne Suite No.2. Maurice’s version is more robust, pretty but down to earth. Dickson and Milledge captured the mood perfectly, and their musical connection was flawless. In ‘Des alyscamps l’âme soupire’ (‘The soul’s sigh at the Aliscamps’). Maurice’s musical ‘sigh’ is gently lyrical, while resisting the temptation of mere sentimentality; this proved to be a well-made and dignified piece as played by Dickson and Milledge. I remember reading somewhere that it was the first movement of the Tableaux to be written, when the composer and her husband were mourning the death of a relative. The title refers to a substantial Roman necropolis just outside the walls of Arles. Paintings by Van Gogh, both called Falling Autumn Leaves, record his impression of the necropolis. As was the case throughout their programme the interplay of saxophone and piano in this work by Maurice was delightfully subtle.
A more familiar name was next, Jacques Ibert, represented by the first two of his set of ten Histoires: ‘La meneuse de tortues d’or’ (‘The Leader of the Golden Tortoises’) and ‘Le petit âme blanc’ (‘The Little White Donkey’). Both were charming, full of that paradoxically sophisticated innocence of which Ibert is such a master. (The French word Histoires might, in this context, best be translated as ‘tales’). The quintessentially French composer Jean Françaix was represented by his Cinq danses exotiques. All five of the dances in this suite are of Latin American origin, beginning with a pambiche and continuing with a baiao, a mambo and a samba lenta, before closing with a Merengue. The pambiche, a dance from the Dominican Republic, was played with force and vigour without the slightest loss of rhythmic subtlety; in the baião – which has its origins in north-eastern Brazil – the mood was languorous (the score is marked con morbidezza). The very fast mambo (the marking here is allegrissimo) which follows was played with considerable panache, the saxophone weaving melodic figures above the driving sound of the piano; this was followed by a beautifully lyrical slow samba, played gently, before the suite concludes, symmetrically, with a second dance from the Dominican Republic, a merengue, widely recognised as the national dance of the country. Interestingly, Françaix’s versions of these five dances often use figures and patterns from jazz; the blending of elements from Western Classical music, the popular Latin-American traditions and jazz worked very well, without ever feeling strained or unnatural.
I have to confess that the name of Fernande Decruck, whose sonata closed this fascinating programme, was barely known to me. A little research has since told me that she wrote a good deal of music for saxophone (including several saxophone quartets), but her music has been rather somewhat neglected in recent decades. In introducing the piece Amy Dickson spoke of this sonata as ‘perhaps the most profound work in the repertoire for saxophone’, something richly confirmed by the ensuing performance. The sonata is in four movements, Très modéré, expressif – Noël – Fileuse – Nocturne et Rondel. The opening movement is in sonata form and contains a good deal of perceptive and delicate writing; it is followed by a ruminative slow movement; the third movement is a kind of spinning song and the last a variation on rondo form. Even on a single hearing one sensed the presence of a musical argument which spanned all four movements. A comprehensive analysis of this fascinating work, along with interesting biographical information, can be found in Joren Cain’s excellent Doctoral Dissertation: Rediscovering Fernande Decruck’s Sonate en ut# pour Saxophone alto … et Orchestre: A Performance Analysis, University of North Texas, May 2010. (There is a link to this in the brief Wikipedia entry on Decruck). Originally written for saxophone and orchestra, it is more frequently heard in this excellent version for saxophone and piano.
This seemingly modest lunchtime concert made a strong case for two relatively neglected female composers, Paule Maurice and Fernande Decruck, by putting their work first and last in the programme, book-ending work by two more often performed male composers, Ibert and Françaix.
Glyn Pursglove