The original Gramophone review

Ravel Shéhérazade

Janet Baker mez New Philharmonia Orch / John Barbirolli (Warner Classics)

I doubt if Ravel’s setting of Tristan Klingsor’s Shéhérazade, which fills up about half a side, will prove a deciding factor [in whether to purchase this disc]. These songs are far from Ravel’s best: the Mysterious East (and how often the word mystérieux is dragged in in the hope of evoking something, anything) did no good at all to French romanticism, and these sloppy non-poems produced the softest and least organised vein in Ravel. Régine Crespin [3/64] sings them very prettily; Baker seems concerned to do rather more than that, but is troubled as to where to begin … I am inclined to prefer Baker’s more thoughtful approach. She has a tenderness that Crespin can seem to take for granted. Further, the orchestral playing is much clearer and more full of point, and better recorded. John Warrack (2/69, abridged)

Tim Ashley I think, this time around, we need to start with the work itself, particularly as John Warrack’s original 1969 review of this (in my opinion) beautiful recording says more about his dislike of Ravel’s score than it does about the actual performance. Personal taste inevitably colours anything that any of us writes about music, but I’ve always loved Shéhérazade and confess to being baffled by his stance on it, as I imagine you are too.

Mark Pullinger Warrack’s verdict that ‘these songs are far from Ravel’s best’ strikes me as wide of the mark today, though I imagine the received wisdom that the orientalist poetry of ‘Tristan Klingsor’ (Léon Leclère’s Wagnerian pseudonym) is not perhaps the greatest verse ever set to music probably still stands.

TA It sprawls, certainly, though it’s written in the French Decadent tradition, and is very much of its time, I think. I read the whole of his Shéhérazade once, and it wasn’t quite what I expected after hearing the Ravel. Klingsor was gay, and much of it is a kind of bathhouse erotica, fairly explicit in places. Ravel tones him down by setting some of the more discreet poems, though a homoerotic undertow, of course, remains in ‘L’indifférent’ at the end. When did you first encounter the songs?

MP I came to the work in my late teens via Rimsky-Korsakov’s Sheherazade, hoping, no doubt, for something similarly colourful and discovering this highly perfumed score that felt quite heady in its exoticism – a bit like sniffing lilies on a hot summer’s day. How did you come to know the work, Tim?

TA Oh, like you, I came to it as a teenager after the Rimsky-Korsakov: I suspect many people did. The first time I heard it, in fact, was on this recording, which I bought when I was 16 or so. I was quite carried away at the time by its sensuousness and that heady quality you mention. Other recordings have come and gone since, but I still have an enormous fondness for this one. I know you like it too: you’ve compared other performances with it in these pages.

MP I came to the Baker–Barbirolli record relatively late. My first encounter was the Régine Crespin disc with Ernest Ansermet and the Suisse Romande Orchestra (Decca), because it (along with Les nuits d’été, with which it was coupled) was – as I read in Gramophone and the Penguin Guide – regarded as the reference recording. I confess to being underwhelmed by Crespin, so discovering Baker’s recording in that gem of an EMI Icon box was revelatory.

TA Yes, I can well imagine. I’m not totally convinced by Crespin either, blasphemous though that sentiment may be in some quarters. I’d much rather have Ansermet’s 1954 mono version with Suzanne Danco and the Suisse Romande Orchestra again, in fact.

MP Oh, I’m very fond of both of Danco’s recordings with Ansermet, Tim – especially the lightness of her soprano.

TA Yes, their earlier (1948) version with the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra is superb, too – I agree.

MP But there’s something about the dusky mezzo shading in Shéhérazade that heightens the sensuality … and Baker is very sensual here. Top notes are thrilling, launched with real weight – the climax to ‘Asie’ is positively orgasmic. And Baker’s attention to the French text is superb (whereas I find Crespin sometimes sounds detached).

TA Yes. She really captures the eroticism of it all wonderfully well, doesn’t she? I think the differences between Baker and Crespin are to some extent those of scale and detail. Crespin’s voice was colossal and the effect is almost like a continuous widescreen – gorgeous, but a consistently big picture, if you like. And I think that sometimes comes at the price of verbal subtlety, whereas Baker moves between a kind of close-up intimacy and a deeply focused intensity. And her way with French is terrific, I agree, as is her dynamic control. Those pianissimos at ‘Narrer mon aventure aux curieux de rêves’ (‘Asie’), for instance, are just breathtaking.

MP I think the close microphone placement helps Baker’s sense of intimacy. ‘L’indifferent’ sounds confessional – ‘Mais non, tu passes’ is almost whispered.

TA I find comparable differences with the conductors, too. With Crespin, Ansermet’s approach is broad and sweeping (he’s significantly less so – and actually more exciting – with Danco, whose voice was, of course, much smaller), whereas with Barbirolli we find detail as well as eroticism and momentum.

MP Here I’m a bit more torn. Barbirolli draws really sensuous playing from his orchestra, but I do like Ansermet’s way with Ravel, a composer he knew personally. Barbirolli’s tempos are slower than all three of Ansermet’s, sometimes considerably so. Is it a case of ‘Glorious John’ luxuriating in the fragrant writing a little too much? Or does it heighten the sensuality of Baker’s performance?

TA Oh, I love Ansermet’s Ravel very much, too, don’t get me wrong: few ever conducted him better. But I do rather like Barbirolli’s lingering way with this. Ansermet and Danco in 1954 push through ‘Asie’ with a sense of almost tremulous excitement, whereas Baker and Barbirolli pause in wonder at each stage of the journey. And there are some marvellous points of orchestral emphasis. The sheen on the New Philharmonia strings when Baker sings of ‘des vêtements de velours et des habits à longues franges’, for instance, is exquisite. You can almost see the play of light on fabric. It’s beautifully done.

MP The opulent recording certainly supports Barbirolli’s vision of the piece and the lush sound he draws from his players is persuasive. The glitter of harp and percussion is evocative, as is the glint of danger when Baker sings of the assassins and the executioner. And the slow postlude to ‘Asie’, in particular, is both ravishing and mysterious. Kudos to the excellent principal flautist, too, in ‘La flûte enchantée’ – they are with Baker every step of the way. Elsewhere, I would welcome a little more momentum at times.

TA It’s a fair point, and I can totally understand why, though its slowness for me is part of its appeal. Opinions have always differed on this performance, though, of course.

MP Despite not being a fan of the piece, Warrack did give this recording a mostly positive welcome, even placing it (just) above Crespin’s recording of the same pairing of works. Check subsequent Gramophone reviews and you’ll see that the debate vacillates – Alan Blyth was definitely a Crespinite! Thankfully, we don’t have to choose (neither did Patrick O’Connor in his 2004 Collection), but if you were to undertake a survey, Tim, I’m guessing Dame Janet would head the pack …

TA Not necessarily, in fact. I’ve always loved it. For many years it was the only recording I knew, and it’s been in my collection in one form or another for the best part of 50 years. But over time, I’ve come to realise that it’s a work that has always brought out the best in its interpreters, and the competition is incredibly stiff. If I were doing a Collection on it now, my top choice would be between this and the 1954 Danco–Ansermet, which I think is certainly its equal, if very different. But to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure which I would choose, or if indeed I could. Where would you place it, though, in the Shéhérazade discography as a whole?

MP I’d echo your Danco–Ansermet pick. I’m easily seduced by recent accounts from Fatma Said and Marianne Crebassa, albeit both are with piano accompaniment. But when it comes to the full-fat orchestral version, Baker and Barbirolli would be my mezzo recording of choice. It certainly seems as if we’re both happy to reinforce its ‘classic’ status.

This article originally appeared in the October 2024 issue of Gramophone magazine. Never miss an issue – subscribe to Gramophone today