Coming To Life

One of my earliest purchases involving 'serious' music was a vinyl LP of Ravel's Le Tombeau de Couperin. Can't remember the orchestra or conductor, but I played it to death. It struck me back then as the kind of accessible piece that constituted a point of entry into orchestral music that would have wide and instant appeal. Great tunes, lovely textures, tied to a rhythmic thrust that ensured a sort of gently toe-tapping attention. 

I revisited the piece today as performed by the Frankfurt Radio Symphony and was, again, deeply entranced - possibly even more so than when I was in my twenties. This version struck me as close to flawless - I picked up details I can't remember tuning into before - always a good sign.

It all sounds so fresh and immediate, as if written yesterday. Yet Ravel was writing what was intended as a kind of monument - to Couperin and other composers of the Baroque, and to friends who'd died in WW1. I hear an underlying sadness, but kept at a distance. This music celebrates life and is abundantly alive.