You would hardly recognize Boulez's new Ravel from its previous chilly, chiselled self. Those early 1970s collaborations with the Cleveland and New York orchestras on CBS/Sony Classical look set to be superseded on all grounds, not least on account of their close, contrived balances. But most striking of all is the clear superiority of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra's playing; something that says more about Boulez's development as a podium technician than any relative deficiency in either of the American orchestras.
If Boulez's earlier manner might have been likened to that of an investigative pathologist at a post-mortem, his new role could be described as a layer on of hands (with the occasional hint of the micro-surgeon; no bad thing in Ravel). In Ma mere l'oye, he is among the master magicians: subtleties of nuance and timing (previously in short supply) now abound; here is playing of a wholly different order of grace and beauty, not the kind that lingers in passages in danger of becoming too exquisite to bear, nor the kind that parades the score's exoticism. A sense of drama and proportion are held in perfect equilibrium, with a moderate range of tempos for the set pieces, but slower tempos than before for the scene-setting ''Prelude'' and linking interludes in order to realize their atmosphere and sheer sorcery.
In the Spanish items, some may find the Berlin woodwinds too cultured in tone and artful in phrasing for their various improvisatory solos: it is rare (and initially unsettling) to hear the first few minutes' solos in Bolero quite as strongly contoured as this (they are, too, predictably legato; do these players ever draw breath?). I found myself craving a hint of abandon from the brass, particularly in the le plus f possible (6'10'', horns and trumpets) in the ''Feria'' from the Rapsodie; and here and in the Alborada, as before, tempos remain slower than average (the ''Habanera'' is utterly hypnotic), strikingly so in the ''Feria'' which now, quite aptly, sounds as much like Chabrier as Ravel: festive as opposed to driven and explosive.
It falls to Dutoit to render the Alborada and the Rapsodie with a more conventional bravura and abandon (and danger) with spectacular engineering to match. DG's sound, from Berlin's Jesus-Christus Kirche, is both present and resonant in the right degrees. Only the horns are perhaps a little distant/discreet. No matter, Boulez's Ravel was always provocative; it is now evocative. Bravo and encore!'