Debussy and Ravel south of the border, the theme of this latest instalment in Tortelier's survey of French music for Chandos, is an unfamiliar combination on disc. RCA/BMG put us in their debt recently with a reissue of Fritz Reiner's 25-year-old recordings of Debussy's ''Iberia'' and Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole and Alborada del gracioso, and at mid-price—''mandatory listening'' wrote RL in his May ''Quarterly Retrospect'', so I have been. Thankfully, the Spanish theme notwithstanding, Chandos have given us the complete Images, with ''Iberia'' flanked by Debussy's English and French portraits ''Gigues'' and ''Rondes de printemps''. (Reiner's disc offers instead Ravel's Valses nobles et sentimentales and the Pavane pour une infante defunte.)
I find it difficult to accept, as has been suggested recently, that Debussy's 'distortion' of The Keel Row in ''Gigues'' is intended as a criticism of folk-song as a symbol of romanticism. Andre Caplet, who helped Debussy complete the orchestration, presents us with an assessment of the meaning of the piece which could almost be describing a work by Mahler, where, underneath the continually transforming mask (The Keel Row) lies a soul in pain—''the very soul of our dear, great Claude Debussy'' (the beautiful oboe d'amore theme which sounds like a well known English folk tune but was, in fact, written by Debussy). I love the way in which this ''spirit of sadness'', the oboe d'amore, is very distantly balanced in Tortelier's new version, calling to mind the soprano solo in the finale of Vaughan Williams's Pastoral Symphony; clearly audible at the start of the piece, very much an alienated lament behind the attempts at jollity at the centre, and unmasked and unchanged at the end with cold string harmonics and tremolos sending a shiver down the spine. How expertly, too, Tortelier judges the contrast between the lively and melancholy constituents in this disturbing, haunting work (the bassoons launch the dancing with very infectious enthusiasm). A small black mark, though, is awarded to the trumpets who don't manage to remove their mutes for the third statement of their parody of part of the oboe d'amore melody (Durand, two bars after fig. 17, at 5'07''); the effect can be startling and contributes to the intensification of the succeeding climax.
''Vivid charm and exquisite freshness'' was Ravel's verdict on Debussy's ''Rondes de printemps''—descriptions that seem wholly apt for Tortelier's performance of the piece. The meticulous care that Debussy lavished on his intricate score to ensure that the fine thread of logic is not severed is not always matched: oboes and clarinets who have a fast moving version of the folk theme at fig. 16 (4'25'') are marked en dehors but are virtually inaudible here. That said, the Ulster woodwind produce some ravishing sounds in the dreamlike central episode doux et flottant, and the horns (the only brass Debussy allowed here) certainly parade their considerable agility in the more animated sections.
So, to Spain, and a bright and brilliantly vital account of ''Iberia''. I was taken aback initially by Tortelier's fast tempo for ''Les parfums de la nuit'' with this central episode's sultry and voluptuous evocations seeming understated. Tortelier takes 7'22'', Reiner 8'58'' and Rattle and Previn (both EMI) 9'16'' and 9'57'' respectively, but I then reacquainted myself with Toscanini (RCA—nla) who despatches the movement in 6'45''! Toscanini is the only conductor in my experience to have taken Debussy's metronome marking of quaver=92 at face value. Most take the indication lent et reveur as their starting point. Where Rattle is rich and sensuous, Tortelier is more delicately fragrant, but the most evident benefit is that the three movements are experienced more as one, with a slower contrasting and more obviously thematically interlinked central section. Tortelier's orchestra cannot quite match the precision of Reiner's Chicago orchestra (who can?) in the outer movements, but finds more local colour (Reiner is very fast in the opening movement; a sun-drenched Spanish street scene recollected in busy downtown Chicago, perhaps). At very easy-going tempos, Monteux (Philips) is the most idiomatically characterful of all.
Surprisingly, ensemble in Ulster is a lot tidier than in Chicago for the ''Prelude a la nuit'' from Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole, but then Reiner lives dangerously with a very slow speed and a rare concentration of atmosphere. The Ulster strings play with almost as much expressive grace in the ''Habanera'' as their LSO counterparts for Monteux (Decca) and how marvellous to hear the descending octaves on the sarrusophone in this movement etched in—a gorgeous effect that is normally missed. But for sheer excitement in the ''Feria'' the newcomer must yield to Reiner, Monteux and Dutoit (also Decca). Do the brass play ''as loud as possible'' two bars before fig. 29 (5'58'')? The upward spiralling strings immediately afterwards make a rather weak impression, and the triple forte bass drum before the final flourish in the last bar, and such a memorable feature of Monteux's incomparably festive account, is a non-event. The Alborada del gracioso, though, is thrilling, with boldy sounded pizzicatos at the outset, a fabulous weight and thrust to the swaggering fortissimos, very skeletal col legno effects at the reprise of the opening, and a daring but not overdone sprint for the finishing post.
Chandos's spacious and airy Ulster Hall production is predictably spectacular, with particularly vivid harps and timpani and an enormous dynamic range that the Monteux and Reiner recordings don't quite achieve. The strings do occasionally sound undernourished, particularly in the passionate upheavals at the centre of the Alborada, but in spite of my bar by bar nit-picking reservations, if the coupling appeals, this is a rewarding issue.'