Florent Schmitt ‒ Ombres, Op 64

Florent Schmitt (1870-1958), Ombres (shadows) Op 64 for solo piano (1913 - 1917)

Performed by Vincent Larderet (2011)

00:00 - No. 1 J'entends dans le lontain...
13:00 - No. 2 Mauresque
18:45 - No. 3 Cette ombre, mon image...

The son of a cloth manufacturer, Schmitt was born in 1870 in Blâmont, Meurthe-et-Moselle, in the province of Lorraine. Something of a late starter, he had his first musical education in Nancy. In 1889 he entered the Paris Conservatoire, where he studied with Dubois, Lavignac, Massenet and Fauré, whom he greatly admired and whose influence may be heard in his very early works. Schmitt won the Prix de Rome in 1900 with his cantata Sémiramis, and his reputation was soon after confirmed by the appearance of his major choral work Psaume XLVII (Psalm 47). He was seldom in residence, and spent much of his time travelling throughout Europe sampling the contemporary music on offer. Throughout a long and highly productive life, Schmitt continued to compose a host of stage, orchestral, vocal, chamber and piano works. During his career he was President of the Société nationale de musique, and a member of the Société musicale indépendante. In 1914 he was enlisted into military service, and sent to serve in the front line at his own request. After the war, from 1921 to 1924 he was Director of the Lyons Conservatoire, and in 1929 became music critic for Le Temps, a position which he occupied in the manner of a high arbiter of national taste. In 1936, as mentioned above, Schmitt was elected to the Institut de France and the Académie des Beaux-Arts.

With Ombres (‘Shadows’), Op.64, written between 1913 and 1917, Florent Schmitt reached full maturity and signed an indisputable masterpiece, which deserves a place at the summit of French piano literature alongside Debussy’s Images and Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit. In fact, Ombres shares certain aspects with those scores: comparable length, the same triptych form whose completely independent pieces are inspired by poems and, finally, the same orchestral treatment of the piano writing. Here one might speak of veritable symphonic poems for piano. Inspired by an excerpt from Lautréamont’s Chants de Maldoror, quoted as an epigraph — ‘In the distance I hear prolonged cries of the most poignant suffering’ — the first piece is the most ambitious of his entire piano oeuvre in its length (the only one to exceed ten minutes), but especially in its fearsome technical difficulties. Based on two amply developed main themes — the one rebellious, the other, which follows immediately, quite inward, but both full of dramatic, painful feeling; this first part, written in the dark year of 1917, obviously echoes the conflict of the Great War. Faithful to his wish to ‘see all the masterpieces written initially for piano before being orchestrated’, a version for piano and orchestra would be realised and first performed by Jacques Février and the Orchestre Colonne in 1930. Shorter and having no literary support, Mauresque serves as an entertaining interlude. After a brief, threatening introduction, the main theme is stated languorously and indolently, and a second motif with its Debussyst progressions of fifths maintains the piece in a serene atmosphere devoid of dramatic feelings. The last piece, once again bringing Debussy to mind, is inspired by a Walt Whitman poem: ‘This shadow, my image that comes and goes, seeking its life...‘ Florent Schmitt, after Debussy in Images or Ravel in Miroirs, broaches the typically Impressionistic theme of the reflected image
and here uses absolutely remarkable harmonies and crystalline colours.

Unlike Ravel, who dedicated each movement of his Gaspard de la nuit to pianist friends (Harold Bauer, Jean Marnold and Rudolph Ganz), Schmitt dedicated each movement of Ombes to literary or social acquaintances: lecturer/writer Paul Loyonnet; Linette Chalupt, daughter of the poet René Chalupt; and Yvonne Müller, soon to become the wife of Italian composer Alfredo Casella.

Read more at: http://florentschmitt.com/2013/08/05/...

As a side note, I have to say this is one of the most impressively intricate and beautiful scores for piano I've ever laid eyes upon. Note: it appears to have been started in 1912, rather than 1913