Désiré-Emile Inghelbrecht Conducts Debussy

Editorial Reviews
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There are two features of great interest here, perhaps three, and a number of others that powerfully evoke a lost past. First, D.-E. Inghelbrecht (he tended to suppress his baptismal names, but Testament has restored them; his friends called him 'Inghel') was one of the few performers close to Debussy who remained active into the era of the long-playing record; he died in 1965. Second, the French Radio Orchestra was founded by him, and it makes the unmistakably French sounds that must have been in Debussy's head when he wrote his orchestral music: French flutes, French bassoons, French horns. Inghelbrecht was also a composer, successful enough (his ballet scores were admired and of his keyboard pieces La nursery is still played occasionally) to escape the label of 'conductor-who-also-composes'; this may have affected the beautifully precise but never merely clinical clarity of his textures and balances.A particular significance attaches to his account of Le martyre de Saint Sébastien, since Inghelbrecht trained and conducted the choir at their (staged) première – which he did 'with robust nobility', according to Debussy's librettist Gabriele d'Annunzio – and gave its first concert performance a year later. It is an admirable, coherent reading of a work that is difficult to bring off, and here the distinctively French orchestral sound is joined by a typically French chorus and by a récitant in the title role who declaims in the almost extinct French grand manner, every syllable inflected histrionically. French choirs of this epoch had a tendency to weightless crooning and it is characteristic of Inghelbrecht, whose explorations of Renaissance choral music aroused Debussy's enthusiasm, that when necessary he insists that his chorus sing out. Indeed, paradoxically, the reason that his Debussy recordings were not very well received in England in the 1950s may have been that at that period they sounded 'un-French' to Anglo-Saxon ears: the Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune is amply and warmly expressive, Jeux is uncommonly strong and passionate, and for all its clarity the orchestral sound is often big and powerful. His rubato is subtle, and it is always a true rubato, not a boneless slackening; it never dissipates the music's energy.These recordings were all made in the 1950s for the then new Ducretet-Thomson company; for contractual reasons the orchestra had at first to call themselves the 'Orchestre du Théâtre des Champs-Elysées' and perhaps because of that the first sessions were recorded in that theatre; Inghelbrecht, who loved the place dearly, had been its musical director when it opened in 1913. The sound is decent but very slightly congested, and for the remaining repertoire the perfectly adequate Théâtre Apollo and the admirably spacious Salle de la Mutualité (still in use: John Nelson's account of Berlioz's Te Deum was recorded there by Virgin last year) were preferred. You will notice the difference in the Images, where 'Ibéria' was recorded in 1954 in the Théâtre Apollo, the two flanking wings in the Mutualité three years later, and the opening out of the sound as you move from the warm brilliance of 'Ibéria' to the cooler light of 'Rondes de printemps' is quite tangible. In fact, apart from a slight edge on the voices in La damoiselle élue all the recordings sound pretty well, with what one can only call natural mono perspectives.So are these the sort of performances that Debussy would have admired? It is, at the very least, possible. We know that he attended Inghelbrecht's rehearsals (on one occasion bringing 'numerous modifications' to the score of the Nocturnes) and he may well have inspired the conductor's detestation of what he called 'nebulous and invertebrate' Debussy performance. These readings are very beautiful but not in the least 'impressionist'; they recall d'Annunzio's judgement of 'robust nobility' as well as Debussy's insistence that 'clarity and elegance' were the cardinal properties of French music. Inghelbrecht's account of the Marche écossaise is vivid and full of attack, not in the least 'nebulous or invertebrate'. At a rehearsal in 1913 he realized that Debussy had never heard the piece in its orchestral version, so immediately distributed the parts and played it to him. Debussy, he said, was very moved, and exclaimed 'Mais c'est joli!'. Michael Oliver

Customer Reviews:

C'est Magnifique!.......2005-04-22

This is probably the closest you can get to the orchestral sound Debussy had in mind when composing. Desire-Emile Inghelbrecht (1880-1965) was closely associated with Debussy in the composer's later years. His meticulously-detailed and warmly-played interpretations have set the standard for me ever since first acquiring these recordings on EMI Pathe LPs back in the 1970's. Testament's mono transfers are excellent. The distinctive "old-style" French orchestral sound heard here - bright violins, reedy woodwinds, French horns with shimmering vibrato, and the blaring brass with its piercing trumpets - is now sadly extinct. Inghelbrecht's magnificent "La Mer" is filled with dramatic contrasts, subtle accents, and fragrant tone colors. Likewise the three wonderful "Images." A bonus attraction is the relatively rare "Trois Chansons de Charles d'Orleans" and the poignant "Noel des enfants qui n'ont plus de maison." The latter is a short, late work (1915) about children who have lost all in the war, and it's gorgeously sung by Madeleine Gorge.

C'est magnifique!

Track Listings:

Track Listings

track listings

Track Listings

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