Tzigane

THE COMPOSER — For composer Maurice Ravel, the Roaring Twenties did not really roar. He had returned from the Great War (and the loss of his mother in 1917) much diminished mentally and physically, and though he was in many ways at the height of his living renown, his output was diminished as well. Past were the heady days of Les Apaches, the loose confederacy of artistic outcasts with whom Ravel found his voice and began to get noticed. In the interwar years, Ravel was sedate and retiring but, much to the chagrin of his rabble-rousing younger self, he was becoming more internationally popular by the minute. This was largely thanks to the fact the few works he did write in the 1920s were among his best. Even if, as in the case of Bolero, he did not agree.

THE HISTORY — Tzigane is the French word for a word nobody uses much anymore, for good reason. That word is “Gypsy,” and you won’t read it again in this note. For early 20th-century composers, the term most often referred to the Hungarian Roma and their artistic traditions. The Romani people originated in Northern India and settled in Hungary perhaps as far back as the 14th century. Their nomadic lifestyle was banned by the Hapsburgs in the 18th century, but their culture flourished despite that and other prejudicial interferences. Though Ravel did not quote any Roma folk melodies per se in his thrilling, ethnically curious concert work, he clearly set out to compose a rhapsodic solo journey “in the Hungarian style,” to use the popular parlance of publishers at the time. The specific inspiration for the piece came to Ravel after hearing the Hungarian violin virtuoso Jelly D’Arányi (great-niece of the legendary Joseph Joachim) in performance with Béla Bartók on the latter’s Violin Sonata No. 1. He was completely smitten with her playing and spent the rest of the evening asking her to play every Roma tune she could think of. Jelly’s technique and flair matched nicely with Ravel’s desire to create an incredibly demanding showstopper for her, and though some critics did not find much to praise at the 1924 premiere, the audience loved it from the start (as does every audience up to this day). Western European high society, Paris in particular, was in the midst of a rabid fascination with all things “other,” so the transliterated “exoticism” of Tzigane made for a highly effective musical treat. The piece was originally written with piano accompaniment but was shortly thereafter orchestrated by the composer. Interestingly, the piano version included an option for a luthéal—a mechanical attachment that gave the piano an added register of cimbalom-like sounds.

THE WORLD — Elsewhere in 1924, Vladimir Lenin died, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) was founded in the United States, George Mallory vanished on Mount Everest, E. M. Forster published A Passage to India, and Greece proclaimed the Second Hellenic Republic.

THE CONNECTION — Sarasota Orchestra most recently performed Tzigane in 2010 with Vadim Gluzman; Music Director Leif Bjaland was on the podium.