During my solo and chamber music performances I enjoy, where appropriate, sharing my thoughts about each work by saying a few words before its performance.  In addition, I have written my own programme notes for many recitals and, for the past five years, have also been regularly commissioned to provide such notes for orchestral concerts.
 
A short example of commissioned work is reproduced on this page.  For a full list of currently-available notes, or to discuss a commission, please follow this link to my contact details; you can also email me by clicking here.
Les Illuminations for soprano and string orchestra op. 18
B. Britten (1913 - 1976)
 
 
In May 1939 Britten began an extended visit to the USA and Les Illuminations, a setting of poems by Arthur Rimbaud and written for the Swiss soprano Sophie Wyss, was completed there in October of that year.  It was not Britten’s first attempt at a French language setting: his cycle Quatre Chansons Franηaises he completed in 1928, just before his fifteenth birthday; but tonight’s work marks a major development in his musical expression, indicating the completion of what had been, in the years immediately preceding, a growing independence from the tradition of German Romanticism.
French art is synonymous with colour.  When one thinks of French painting, the names of Matisse or Monet spring to mind; Debussy and Ravel are, perhaps, the most immediately famous of French composers.  Les Illuminations, as its title suggests, is strongly associated with light and therefore also with colour.  It displays a wealth of tonal shading that shows a generalised and profound absorption of French vocal writing and yet, paradoxically, this absorption enables Britten to achieve some of his most strongly individualistic composition.  It therefore marks at once an extension of and a departure from his Piano Concerto of 1938, in which the influence of Ravel’s Neoclassicism is clearly tangible.
The piece is unified by the juxtaposition of the two chords of B-flat major and E major.  In the same way that colours on opposite sides of a colour wheel, such as green and red, or blue and orange, are complementary, so these chords are the most distant from each other both harmonically and chromatically.  However, by placing them side-by-side at the work’s very opening – the first announced, fanfare-like, in the violas, the antithetical reply in the first violins – Britten sets out on his palette the entire gamut of tonal harmony for exploration and combination.  Endless pains are taken in order to create a desired effect: each line and, at times, each word of a poem is given a different subtlety by the detailed orchestration and, although characteristic string effects are freely used, they are never superficial: a pizzicato chord may be as judiciously telling as is a tiny flake of white paint to indicate a highlight.  Also striking is Britten’s sophisticated understanding of the tonal characteristics of stringed instruments in their different registers: this is particularly notable in “Interlude”, where the same phrase is repeated several times on different instruments, each time taking a slightly altered aspect whilst never having its identity obscured.
Technical considerations aside, however, this is highly visual and evocative music.  From the commercial bustle of “Villes” and the brilliance and energy of “Royautι” to the restrained erotic languor of “Antique”, Les Illuminations is a musically strongly stylised and intensely personal response to Rimbaud’s poetry.
©2002 Rupert Luck