Maurice Emmanuel ‒ Trois Sonatines

Maurice Emmanuel (1862 - 1938), 3 Sonatines (1893, 1897, 1920)

Performed by Peter Jacobs

Sonatine no 1, Op. 4 "Bourguignonne":
00:00 - I. Allegro con spirito
02:32 - II. Branle a la maniere de Bourgogne
04:10 - III. Andante simplice
05:44 - IV. Ronde a la maniere morvandelle
Sonatine no 2, Op. 5 "Pastorale":
08:16 - I. La Caille
11:47 - II. Le Rossignol
16:18 - III. Le Coucou
Sonatine no 3, Op. 19:
18:18 - I. Moderato
22:09 - II. Andante tranquillo
25:32 - III. Vivace

An exact contemporary of Claude Debussy, he was right from the outset an authentic creator of the avant-garde. It is barely believable that the first two sonatinas date from 1893 and 1897, so in advance are they of their day — more so in fact that what Debussy was producing — with regard to harmony, free polymodality, the emancipation of dissonance, boldness in the rhythmic and instrumental language, formal fantasy, with rigour being in no way excluded. They were, moreover, not published and played until after 1920, when the others were being composed, and with which they form a genuine whole. It is significant that Maurice Emmanuel did not follow Debussy in his ultimate evolution, the results of which he hardly appreciated, following instead his own path, one that was in fact no less radical and complex. It is time, however, to start our examination of these Six Sonatinas that are so many masterpieces.

The First draws its source from the land of the Beaune region, from which Emmanuel was also to draw his precious album of Trente Chansons bourguignonnes. The two odd-numbered movements are inspired by bell chimes, the even-numbered by local dances. As in all the sonatinas, the language is modal, though this by no means excludes the presence of tonics and even, with the sole exception of the Fifth, of a ‘tonical’ (and not tonal) unity, here that of A. It is built on a choirboy chant taken from the three note chime of Notre Dame de Beaune, heard in about 1875 to words that mock an old bellringer, Pierre, “who makes fugues in A minor”, which, as the composer mischievously notes, was impossible for him with the three notes at his disposal! By contrast, the piece develops four variants of the chimes of Saint-Bénigne de Dijon, using four notes of the scale of E minor. There follows a ‘Branle à la manière de Bourgogne’, originally in D dorian, but modulating whimsically, a dance in binary rhythm with four-square periods, of a type that was still being performed around 1875 during the harvesting of the Côte de Beaune when the day was over. The Andante simplice (sic!), in A flat major, but spiced with dissonant harmonies and pedals in fifths, uses a very simple air invented by the old, blind bell-ringer of the Hôtel-Dieu in Beaune. It concludes with a feisty ‘Ronde à la manière morvandelle’ with deliciously unequal periods, into which, as the composer tells us, “is inserted the chime of Saint-Bénigne, in ever more dislocated form”. It ends in the lydian of the opening.

Quite different is the Second Sonatina, dating from 1897. Here, far from the city, we are in the heart of the countryside, as loved by Beethoven: for its three movements, Emmanuel has indeed returned to the singing of the three birds featured towards the end of the ‘Scene by the brook’ in the Pastoral Symphony. The poetry here is more dreamlike and subdued than in the first, with undulating, slightly ‘impressionist’ instrumental writing, at times anticipating the Debussy of Estampes or Images, even the Ravel of Miroirs. The ‘tonical’ unity here is that of G for the two quick movements: ‘La Caille’, with its characteristic dotted call, and ‘Le Coucou’ , a very agile Scherzo in 3/8, while the short but poetic reverie of ‘Le Rossignol’ unfolds in B flat. It is here that the homage to Beethoven is at its most faithful, especially towards the end, with its reminder of ‘La Caille’. On the other hand, this music is scarcely a harbinger of Messiaen (Catalogue d’oiseaux), as might have been thought from the double viewpoint of modality... and ornithology.

Published at the same time as the two preceding sonatinas, the Third Sonatina is nonetheless later than them by almost a quarter of a century. The language has become more complex and more dissonant, the expression both deeper and more abstract: more titles, more borrowings from traditional sources, but pure music, and a certain classicism with regard to form. The Sixth is the closest to the spirit of a Roussel, although the language and the expression remain quite different. The high point of the work, however, is unquestionably to be found in the central Andante tranquillo in 3/8, in C (with a strong lydian pull towards the F mode): this is one of the most significant and advanced pieces by Emmanuel, showing that a certain type of chromaticism is by no means incompatible with his modal ideal.