Songs of Emmanuel Chabrier

[n 1] He came late to music as a profession, but – although being an exceptional pianist – he had no trappings of a formal training: no conservatoire studies, no Prix de Rome, "none of the conventional badges of French academic musicians, by whom he was regarded as an amateur" (in the best sense).

[3] Chabrier gave up his job at the Ministry of the Interior in 1880; as a full-time composer he set texts by Victor Hugo, Charles Baudelaire, Catulle Mendès, Edmond Rostand and his wife Rosemonde Gérard, as well as lesser-known poets, and these songs were often intended for notable singers, such as Lucien Fugère, Émile Engel, Jeanne Granier, Ernest Van Dyck and Paul Lhérie.

[4] In a 1891 letter to Madame Colonne, wife of the famous conductor, Chabrier wrote "I'm not a natural writer of romances, which is unfortunate, because the song, agreeably warbled in salons is, at the present time, the only way for a French composer to more or less pay the rent.

French composer Henri Barraud asserted that he was "the most gifted inventor of unimagined harmonies, of rare combinations of timbres, the most vigorous colourist and the most straightforward melodist".

[6] Enoch, his publisher, tried to get Chabrier to simplify what they judged to be complex piano parts which would discourage amateurs (and thus reduce sales); despite objections from the composer an edition with easy accompaniments was issued by them.

"[9][n 3] The pianist and scholar Graham Johnson comments in relation to several of the songs that the demands on the singer, particularly in range of expression, can be extreme, for example "Ivresses!".

In his book on the composer, his spiritual descendant, Francis Poulenc, contends that the difficulty for many singers – amateur and professional – is that Chabrier's songs fall half-way between the concert platform and the stage.

Chants d'oiseaux – « Quand nous chantons nos amours » (Bird songs :"When we sing about our love") (1862) – words by Victor de Laprade (in the Livre troisième of Rose Mystica from Idylles héroïques, 1855).

"One must admire Saint-Saëns's skill in making a long and effective piece out of unpromising material [...] how much better Chabrier captures, right from the start, the spirit of the festive joust with music which rattles jovially between the hands", Johnson comments.

[19] L'invitation au voyage (1870) – « Mon enfant, ma sœur, songe à la douceur d'aller là-bas » (Call to expedition : "My child, sister, think how sweet to go over there") words by Charles Baudelaire (from Les Fleurs du mal, 1855, 1857), set at the same time by Duparc (two verses only).

[n 5] Chabrier savoured the richness of full 9th harmonics; the phrase "d'aller là-bas vivre ensemble" in this song is "set to a succession of 9th chords with root movement by a 5th.

This dark song was composed in August 1880 when the Chabriers were on holiday at Saint-Pair-sur-Mer; another poem from the same Hugo collection at the same time inspired Idylle, the sixth Pièces pittoresques.

[24] Credo d'amour – « Je crois aux choses éternelles » (Love creed : "I believe in things eternal") (1883) – words by Armand Silvestre ('Credo' from La chanson des heures, 1878).

[27] One writer has noted that it is an example of Chabrier's gift "one which eluded so many of his contemporaries – of allowing his music to be suffused by the influence of Wagner whilst still retaining his own distinctive voice".

[29] Lied – « Nez au vent, cœur plein d'aise » ("Into the breeze, happy at heart") (1886) – words by Catulle Mendès (from Philoméla, 1863) This the second Chabrier song with this title, but on a very different subject matter; marked "gaiement", it concerns an encounter between Berthe and an elf in the woods who tempts her to go and pick strawberries off the beaten path.

[32] Chanson pour Jeanne – « Puisque les roses sont jolies » ("Since the roses are pretty") (1886) – words by Catulle Mendès (from Intermède, 1885) It was in connection with this song (entitled 'Romance') that Chabrier wrote a notable letter to his publishers Enoch in which he vouched that its music "is certainly music of today or tomorrow, but not of yesterday", adding "This romance, you doubtlessly won't understand any of it, at first glance; I will play it to you in three weeks... do not make a judgement until you have studied it".

[33] Although the song is basically strophic, the composer creates modulations by juxtaposition of a differing melodic vision and adding foreign notes to ordinary chords of the scale.

[37] In 1888 Chabrier arranged sixteen French folk songs for an anthology called Le plus jolies chansons du pays de France.

Johnson comments that Chabrier's touch in these pieces is "deceptively light and restrained", but that the piano writing adds enormously to the charm of the music.

[3][n 6] 6 mélodies (1890) come just before the onset of the degeneration of Chabrier's health as he completed his last piano work, the Bourrée fantasque, and struggled to get his opera Briséïs committed to manuscript.

Compared with other Chabrier songs, the Ballade lacks harmonic complexity; but it is full of humour – the turkeys "seem to essay the steps of a habanera[n 7], while the serenade from Don Giovanni sounds out where one would least expect – like a punch on the nose".

Delage muses that Chabrier's friend Manet, whose Les Dindons was first seen in 1877, causing mad laughter from its first viewers, may have planted a seed in the composer's mind.

[40] Bernac comments "The ritornello imitating comically the mandolin accompaniment of the serenade of Mozart's Don Giovanni should be played with no rubato at all, no hurry, flatly and fatuously".

[43] Pastorale des cochons roses – « Le jour s'annonce à l'Orient » (1889) – words by Edmond Rostand from Les Musardises.

[25] As dawn breaks, a farmboy takes a drift of pigs along a path, who proceed to play all day until they are led back to their bed where they all fall asleep.

[3]p24 Myers sees Ravel's harmonic formula for the grillon winding up her watch in his Histoires naturelles is "an actual crib of Chabrier's ingenious way of suggesting the shrill chirping of the cicadas".

[45] Delage goes further, saying that the "extension of what one finds in the astonishing accompaniment of the song Les Cigales, with its minor seconds under direct attack, bursts forth in Jeux d'eau and Ondine".

[25] In a letter of January 1890, Chabrier wrote to the dedicatee ('Nénerst') that the song is an "irresistible salon outpouring", and included a sketch of the first four bars of the vocal part.

– « Le sort jadis ne me faisait pas fête comme aujourd'hui » (1888) À la musique is for solo soprano, women's chorus and orchestra (or piano).

[11] A complete cycle was set down in 2001 for Hyperion Records by Felicity Lott, Stephen Varcoe, William Burden, and others; with Graham Johnson (piano), who also wrote comprehensive essays for the booklet, on two compact discs.