French translation, please
norman...@comcast.net
"What the west wind saw", but that doesn't make any sense.
Help?
Norm Strong
Gerard
> What does "Ce qu'a vu le vent d'ouest" mean? All I can come up with
> is "What the west wind saw",
I think that this is exactly what it means.
> but that doesn't make any sense.
>
Should it?
Henk van Tuijl
<norman...@comcast.net> schreef in
bericht
news:ivydne7f__to8AzY...@comcast.com...
Following some the prelude is inspired
by Shelley's Ode to the West Wind.
Henk
david...@aol.com
That's exactly what it means: that which the west wind has seen. Your
translation is more idiomatic.
-david gable
jrs...@aol.com
Did Debussy borrow this from a popular expression or a bit of poetry?
It's a nice metaphor but I would imagine rather routine in French as in
other languages.
--Jeff
Larry Rinkel
news:ivydne7f__to8AzY...@comcast.com...
It makes sense if you know that in Greek mythology, each of the four winds
(north, east, south, west) was personified as a minor deity and associated
with the four seasons and various types of weather. This Wikipedia article
appears to sum up the essential information:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anemoi
Zephyrus, the West Wind in Greek mythology associated with Autumn, was
borrowed for use in madrigals by Monteverdi on a couple of occasions, and
was a rather gentle wind compared to the fierce wintry blast of Boreas from
the north. (The kitschy Bougoureau engraving reproduced on the Wikipedia
page shows Zephyrus's more erotic side, though perhaps fortunately his most
erotic side is decorously left covered up.)
I don't know specifically if Debussy had read Percy Bysshe Shelley -- as
mentioned by another poster -- either in French or English, but Shelley's
Ode to the West Wind portrays the deity (not identified by his Greek name)
instead as a fierce, wild spirit of Autumn who is both "destroyer and
preserver," and whom the speaker invokes as a muse and inspiration who will
"scatter .. my words among mankind." Whatever the case, the violence and
restlessness of Shelley's imagery has more in common with Debussy's tone
poem for piano than does the Zephyrus of the original Greek myth:
http://www.bartleby.com/106/275.html
But yet another, probably stronger, possibility is suggested in the article
linked below by one Catherine Kautsky, who locates Debussy's inspiration in
a story by Hans Christian Andersen, "The Garden of Paradise." Here a young
prince accidentally finds the cavern of the four winds and the woman who is
their mother. This gracefully written article appears to be a
well-researched summary of literary allusions in quite a few of the Debussy
preludes:
http://www.music.wisc.edu/uploads/media/KautskyDebussy.pdf, see page 59 for
our West Wind
And here is the complete Andersen story: http://www.bartleby.com/17/3/7.html
norman...@comcast.net
"Larry Rinkel" <L...@optunderline.net> wrote in message
news:mFmkh.163$v81...@newsfe09.lga...
Thank you, all. I'm glad to know that my french isn't totally broken. All
of the links are interesting, and I appreciate their provision.
Norm
Ponty
"Larry Rinkel" <L...@optunderline.net> wrote:
> Zephyrus, the West Wind in Greek mythology associated with Autumn
Isn't Zephyrus associated with spring and summer, as, for example,
Chaucer noted in the General Prologue to "The Canterbury Tales," "Whan
Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth . . . ."
Ponty
Larry Rinkel
news:NoSpam-57BEAC....@news.isp.giganews.com...
You are right and so is Wikipedia, and I was mistaken on that point as you
quoted me. In Chaucer of course the pilgrimage to Canterbury begins in
April. This is what Wikipedia actually says:
"Boreas was the north wind and bringer of cold winter air, Notus was the
south wind and bringer of the storms of late summer and autumn, and Zephyrus
was the west wind and bringer of light spring and early summer breezes;
Eurus, the east wind, was not associated with any of the three Greek
seasons..."
However - and this is probably why I got this confused - Shelley's West Wind
is decidedly associated with autumn, not spring or summer.
Larry Rinkel
news:MPG.1ffe7c12...@news.sf.sbcglobal.net...
>> In article <mFmkh.163$v81...@newsfe09.lga>, L...@optunderline.net says...
> <...>
>> But yet another, probably stronger, possibility is suggested in the
>> article
>> linked below by one Catherine Kautsky, who locates Debussy's inspiration
>> in
>> a story by Hans Christian Andersen, "The Garden of Paradise." Here a
>> young
>> prince accidentally finds the cavern of the four winds and the woman who
>> is
>> their mother. This gracefully written article appears to be a
>> well-researched summary of literary allusions in quite a few of the
>> Debussy
>> preludes:
>> http://www.music.wisc.edu/uploads/media/KautskyDebussy.pdf, see page 59
>> for
>> our West Wind
>>
>> And here is the complete Andersen story:
>> http://www.bartleby.com/17/3/7.html
>>
>>
> she describes the Debussy piece as reflecting *both* the Andersen and
> the Shelley, instead of one or the other. And she seems a bit confused
> about whether the piece is about the what the wind saw or about the
> wind itself.
>
> wr
>
Indeed, that is a problem. And after reading the Andersen story I felt it to
be even more of a problem, as the episode of the west wind is a secondary
detail in Andersen. Andersen's story is primarily about the voyage the young
prince takes in the company of the east wind to find the Garden of Paradise.
But this is the most relevant paragraph from Andersen, and it fits the
notion of "what the west wind saw" better than anything in Shelley (a poem
which is an address to the west wind as the poet's muse):
"I looked into the deepest river, and watched how it rushed down from the
rocks, and turned to spray, and shot up toward the clouds to carry the
rainbow. I saw the wild buffalo swimming in the stream, but the stream
carried him away. He drifted with the flock of wild ducks that flew up where
the water fell down in a cataract. The buffalo had to go down it! That
pleased me, and I blew a storm, so that ancient trees were split up into
splinters!"
Therefore I still think the Andersen connection fits best. It should be
remembered too that Debussy often titled his preludes after writing them.
Some of them may have been specifically inspired by literary models (I would
assume this is true of The Sunken Cathedral); others may have just been
given tenuous literary associations that the composer assigned after
completing them.
Henk van Tuijl
"Larry Rinkel" <L...@optunderline.net>
schreef in bericht
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Hmmmm, have you read Shelley's note to
his ode? Henk
ODE TO THE WEST WIND.
(This poem was conceived and chiefly
written in a wood that skirts the
Arno, near Florence, and on a day when
that tempestuous wind, whose
temperature is at once mild and
animating, was collecting the vapours
which pour down the autumnal rains. They
began, as I foresaw, at sunset
with a violent tempest of hail and rain,
attended by that magnificent
thunder and lightning peculiar to the
Cisalpine regions.
The phenomenon alluded to at the
conclusion of the third stanza is well
known to naturalists. The vegetation at
the bottom of the sea, of
rivers, and of lakes, sympathizes with
that of the land in the change
of seasons, and is consequently
influenced by the winds which announce
it.--[SHELLEY'S NOTE.])
[Published with "Prometheus Unbound",
1820.]
Larry
> "Larry Rinkel" <L...@optunderline.net>
> schreef in bericht
> news:ap8lh.1$aj...@newsfe09.lga...
> Hmmmm, have you read Shelley's note to
Hmmmmm, yes I have. And your excerpt as well as the poem describes
certain atmospheric and meteorological phenomena that Shelley observed.
But it does not personify the West Wind mainly as an *observer,* which
is what Debussy's title requires and which is what Andersen's story
does. I don't know what books Debussy read and in what languages, and
I'm not saying the allusion to Shelley is out of the question, only
that if one of the two literary sources must be chosen, the Andersen
makes more sense to me.
Henk van Tuijl
"Larry" <LRi...@optonline.net> schreef
in bericht
news:1167401455.4...@79g2000cws.googlegroups.com...
A good point! It is true that "what the
West Wind saw" refers to the wind as an
"observer".
However, wouldn't the West Wind have
seen "the signs of the times" before it
"announces" the change of seasons.
BTW, Andersen is not mentioned in the
database of composers influenced by
Andersen of the Odense Bys Museum -
Prokofiev is.
Henk
Larry
> database of composers influenced by
> Andersen of the Odense Bys Museum -
> Prokofiev is.
>
> Henk
I have an acquaintance in Odense; perhaps I can persuade him to visit
the museum and speak with a curator.
Another source:
Le septième prélude brosse un tableau d'une violence rarement
atteinte dans la musique de Debussy, avec des instructions comme
strident, angoissé, incisif et furieux. Ce n'est plus de
l'impressionnisme (pour autant que Debussy en ait jamais usé) mais
de l'expressionnisme, et ce un an avant l'Allegro barbaro de
Bartók et deux ans avant la Toccata de Prokofiev. Le titre, Ce qu'a
vu le vent d'ouest, est tiré de Le jardin du Paradis, un conte de
Hans Christian Andersen, mais comme on n'y trouve aucune trace de
violence, une autre source semble envisageable : Ode to the West Wind
de Shelley, que Debussy avait lue dans une traduction française.
Difficile de trouver meilleure description de ce prélude que ces mots
de Shelley : « le tumulte de tes harmonies puissantes ».
-- http://classique.abeillemusique.com/produit.php?cle=21135
So apparently Debussy read the Shelley in French. But despite the notes
above, I thought the paragraph I quoted from Andersen does show "some
trace of violence" in the West Wind's narration. You decide. That's the
best I can do with this.
Henk van Tuijl
<g> Indeed, the curator should have
known better than to forget Debussy!
> Another source:
It is true that Zephyr in Andersens
fairy tale isn't the most violent of the
four brothers. Nevertheless, he has seen
storms, has touched the flanks of
stampeding ponies, ...
> So apparently Debussy read the Shelley
> in French. But despite the notes
> above, I thought the paragraph I
> quoted from Andersen does show "some
> trace of violence" in the West Wind's
> narration.
I agree, Zephyr doesn't lead a quiet
life. The violence in Andersen's fairy
tale is as present as in Shelley's Ode.
> You decide. That's the best I can do
> with this.
Perhaps Debussy has read Andersen (for
Chouchou) as well as Shelley. Also,
there is probably never a simple and
direct relation between a work of art
and its (supposed) source(s) of
inspiration.
I don't really feel inclined to decide.
IMHO this fascinating question doesn't
deserve a premature answer.
Thanks,
Henk
david...@aol.com
Wayne Reimer wrote:
> Kautsky does something rather peculiar in that article, which is that
> she describes the Debussy piece as reflecting *both* the Andersen and
> the Shelley, instead of one or the other. And she seems a bit confused
> about whether the piece is about the what the wind saw or about the
> wind itself.
Like Debussy, I think it's a terrible mistake to read anything
egregiously specific into the titles of any of the Debussy Preludes.
(Paul Klee entitled his paintings only after he'd completed them. On
occasion, he would have a few friends over and display two or three
recent paintings on the mantle. A glass of wine in hand, Klee and his
guests would propose titles for them.)
-david gable
Larry Rinkel
<david...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:1167428586.7...@h40g2000cwb.googlegroups.com...
I can think of far more terrible mistakes that can be made, and Klee's
practice does not necessarily accord with Debussy's. Agreed, Debussy
supposedly came up with his titles after composing each of the preludes, but
the point is he did come up with titles. Instead of calling #10 in Book 1 a
prelude in C, he called it La Cathédrale Engloutie; instead of a prelude in
G, he wrote Minstrels; instead of Gb, La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin; instead
of F# minor, Ce qu'a vu le vent d'Ouest. Only one of the 24 preludes
(Alternating Thirds) is given a neutral title such as are found in the
Etudes. Within the preludes, some of the associations are undoubtedly vague
and nebulous; e.g., Bruyères from II could just as well have been called La
Fille aux Cheveux de Lin, since the latter is a virtual rip-off from the
former. But then there are others where the music must have taken
inspiration from a pre-conceived extra-musical image: once you start a piece
by banging out God Save the Queen in the bass, you need to call it something
English like Hommage to Samuel Pickwick; once one knows the legend of the
sunken cathedral that periodically emerged at night, it's hard to think that
title of this prelude was a fortuitous choice that had nothing to do with
its composition. This is the classic dilemma with program music of any kind:
does the music exist autonomously from the program, or is the music designed
to illuminate a program? And if so, how do we use the program to understand
the music, and what are the limitations of such an approach?
Ponty
"Larry Rinkel" <L...@optunderline.net> wrote:
> This is the classic dilemma with program music of any kind:
> does the music exist autonomously from the program, or is the music designed
> to illuminate a program? And if so, how do we use the program to understand
> the music, and what are the limitations of such an approach?
A classic problem indeed.
In "What to Listen for in Music" (New York: Mentor, 1999), Aaron Copland
maintains, "No matter how programmatic or descriptive music may be, it
must always exist in terms of music alone" and that "a person hearing [a
programmatic piece] with no knowledge of the story . . . [should] not
have his enjoyment curtailed in any way" (p. 169).
I find this a very refreshing point of view, especially coming from a
composer.
Ponty
Ponty
Ponty <NoS...@NoSpam.tld> wrote:
> In "What to Listen for in Music" (New York: Mentor, 1999), Aaron Copland
I should have added that Copland goes much further, saying that even if
you know a piece's program, for example, that the first theme in
Tschaikovsky's "Romeo and Juliet" portrays the fight between the
Montagues and Capulets, "the theme may seem more pertinent to you; but
at the same time it undoubtedly limits its imaginative appeal."
Ponty
david...@aol.com
> Debussy supposedly came up with his titles after composing each of the preludes,
> but, the point is, he did come up with titles.
The fact that Debussy and Klee came up with their titles after the fact
doesn't meant they were arbitrary. It means the titles illustrate
the pieces rather than vice versa.
> Within the preludes, some of the associations are undoubtedly vague
> and nebulous
Far from being a weakness, vagueness and nebulousness were strengths
explicitly prized by Debussy and many like-minded French
contemporaries. The subject of impressionist painting was the vague
and nebulous in nature. Mallarmé felt that poetry should suggest
rather than assert, that it should be "like music," in other words,
vague and suggestive rather than egregiously specific.
> But then there are others where the music must have taken
> inspiration from a pre-conceived extra-musical image: once you start a piece
> by banging out God Save the Queen in the bass, you need to call it something
> English like Hommage to Samuel Pickwick;
Of course. Nevertheless, your claim depends, not on the abstract
musical structure of "God Save the Queen," but on the fact that we
all know that the tune is "God Save the Queen." Similarly,
Puccini's use of the Star Spangled Banner in Madama Butterfly depends
on our recognition that the tune is the American national anthem, not
on its musical structure.
> once one knows the legend of the
> sunken cathedral that periodically emerged at night, it's hard to think that
> title of this prelude was a fortuitous choice that had nothing to do with
> its composition.
I never suggested such titles were fortuitous choices that had nothing
to do with the composition of pieces.
The beauty of a sunken cathedral that only emerges at night is that --
like the Loch Ness monster -- we've never seen it. We've heard that
some people claim to have seen it, but we haven't. We're left to
imagine what something so Romantic as an old Gothic cathedral
mysteriously appearing out of the depths in the night sky would be
like, and our impression is vague and non-specific. Furthermore, the
title, like the titles of all the other preludes, leaves the narrative
to us. The composer hasn't dictated the narrative step by step, and
the form of the music hasn't been enslaved by the narrative.
> This is the classic dilemma with program music of any kind:
> does the music exist autonomously from the program, or is the music designed
> to illuminate a program?
If the music can't stand alone, it's not worth much. As far as the
music is concerned, by far the least interesting moment in the entire
Symphonie fantastique is the moment that is most egregiously specific
in illustrating the program: the guillotining of poor Miss Smithson.
It's not an intrinsic part of the march (a march that Berlioz pulled
out of an unfinished opera in which the idée fixe did not appear), and
it's completely devoid of musical interest. The little scrap of
idée fixe representing the poor lady has a musical shape in and of
itself, but that shape has nothing to do with the rest of the movement,
its appearance at the end of the march is not musically motivated, and
simply pasting it in place doesn't contribute to the unification of
the overall form of the symphony, whatever Berlioz may have thought.
Nevertheless, I don't have the least intention of denying myself the
pleasure of experiencing music as metaphorical for all sorts of
experiences and feelings. To deny myself the pleasure would be to deny
a dimension of music that composers have routinely exploited: its
metaphorical capacity. Music's capacity for metaphor is the
principal source of its programmatic capacity. Music sometimes resorts
to the imitation of sounds found in the real world -- we hear thunder
and shepherds piping in the Fantastique, birds chirping in Boulez's
cummings ist der dichter, a doorbell and pistol shots in Alban Berg's
Lulu -- but the capacity for imitating sounds found in the real world
is not the principal source of music's metaphorical power. The
metaphorical capacity of music is intrinsic. Music consists of
processes unfolding through time and experienced by human beings, and
everything we experience is a process unfolding through time.
Music's unfolding can be used to suggest just about any kind of
experience.
> And if so, how do we use the program to understand
> the music, and what are the limitations of such an approach?
Klee's and Debussy's titles are metaphorical descriptions of the
paintings and preludes they entitle. As such they are already
interpretations of a sort of the works in questions.
Metaphors have their strengths and limits. Their strength is that
they're suggestive, working by analogy. A prelude entitled "What
the West Wind Saw" contains musical activity that can be seen to
"move" . . . like the wind. Having seen something, the West Wind
has a story to tell, and musical activity can be seen to unfold through
time just as narrative and narration unfold through time. The beauty
of what the west wind saw as a subject is that wind is not terribly
substantial and what the wind saw is something vague and non-specific,
in other words, mysterious.
One limitation of metaphor is that it can't supply a technical
explanation of the mechanics of a piece. Nevertheless, when people do
explain the mechanics of things, they tend to make use of analogies
that originated as metaphors, analogies that have subsequently been
nailed down for once and for all with formal definitions. At that
point the analogy ceases to be a metaphor and becomes a strictly
defined concept.
The limitations of the programmatic approach to composition are
apparent from the Fantastique example. Berlioz with his guillotine is
guilty of the egregiously specific. The egregiously specific in
programmatic depiction threatens to enslave music and at worst can
reduce music to mere illustration devoid of musical interest.
The silliest discussions of the programmatic in music are the
egregiously specific ones. When you start to debate whether the West
Wind in Debussy's prelude is Shelley's West Wind or somebody else's,
you enter the realm of Medieval scholastic arguments over how many
angels will fit on the head of a pin. That doesn't mean I wouldn't be
curious to know if Debussy had read Shelley. It would be interesting
to know and might even give us an insight into Debussy's attitude,
aesthetic, and sources. But I don't want to debate how many degrees
north by northwest the wind is moving in bar 46. Satie's wicked
remark about From Dawn 'til Midday at Sea, the first movement of La
mer, hinges on just such egregious specificity: "I like the bit
around 10:00."
-david gable