Claude Debussy Paavo Järvi Telarc 2005   Reviewed by Pedro Blas Gonzalez	Measured nostalgia. Calm, yet vibrantly intuitive sentiment. These are some supple descriptions of the a-temporal, fleeting quality of Claude Debussy's (1862-1918) musical creations. Impressionism, as the movement that he helped launch is called, attempts to capture musically what Mallarmé and symbolist painters tried to portray in their fin de siècle, "mauve nineties" work. Blanketing the world in a bitonal, frameless fog of soft contours and fuzzy harmonies, impressionism places aside the framework of more traditional composition for tones and hues that speak the language of intuitive essence. How best to describe the opening flute of Debussy's "Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune" than to imagine the dynamic movement of clouds passing us by at eye level while high atop a ridge. Images of Caspar David Friedrich's majestic painting, "Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog" quickly come to mind. Is this perhaps the dreamlike reality that an infant experiences looking out of a crib into an alien world? The absence of rough edges lends Debussy's music a potency over the tempo of our lives today that begs for a greater realization of evanescent temporal duration. Paavo Järvi conducts the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra in Claude Debussy, a new Telarc recording that contains some of Debussy's staple works: "Pre'lude a'l'apres-midi d'un faune," "Nocturnes," "La mer" and "Berceuse héroïque." It only seems appropriate that Debussy should compose a piece like "Nocturnes" during a time when another Frenchman, the illustrious philosopher, Henri Bergson was planting the seeds of his metaphysics of intuition, the appreciation that life is best conceived as a vitally intuitive duration. These were commensurate artistic themes and motifs for writers and painters alike, from the late 19th-century and leading up to the start of the first World War. Debussy explains that he did not intend this work to be a musical nocturne -- that is, an instrumental serenade, -- but rather instead as a lyrical description of nighttime. Debussy: "Therefore it is not meant to designate the usual form of the nocturne, but rather all the various impressions and the special effects of light that the word suggests." Yet this deviation does not come across as exaggerated. Of the three movements that make up this piece: "Nuages" (clouds), "Fêtes" (festivals) and "Sirènes" (sirens) it is the second that is most agitated in tempo. Quickening its pace ever so slightly, this second movement nonetheless manages to remain true to the overall structure of the piece: a passing vision of momentary, worldly reality. The third, while indicative of the wail of sirens, like the ghostly cry of a lonely banshee, is a seaside rendition of the gentle demarcation of night and day. This third movement is written for a wordless chorus of female voices. While keenly capturing the essence of what the title purports to represent musically, the inherent beauty of "Nocturnes" however, is its ability to capture our sense of imagination. Engrossing us in a furtive approval, listening to Debussy we come to understand just how rapid is the pace of modern life -- his day and age notwithstanding. Debussy's "Le mer" is an interesting piece because its composer did not want to create it while in the presence of the sea, instead opting for the distant hills of Burgundy. But why this seemingly counterintuitive decision on his part, some may ask? Debussy explains that while he was interested in a composition about the sea, he was even more interested in writing about what he considered his fine memories of the aforementioned. Philosophically, this is interesting because it alludes to perception and our ability to recognize the gulf that can exist between perception and reality. Could Debussy have had this in mind when he wrote this piece? "Le mer" still strikes me as a magical prelude to some form of transcendence, always on the cusp of bursting into emotion, but reticent enough to merely flirt with the former. This was my initial thought when I first heard this piece at age 16, as it easily contrasted with the fiery Beethoven and the baroque Vivaldi that was such a foundational aspect of my early musical experience. The first movement, "De l'aube à midi sur la mer" (From Dawn to Noon, on the Sea) contains that staple Debussy melodic flute, the flowing and buzzing of reverberating violins that sound like a muted Oriental motif. But this movement is merely a depiction of daylight arching upwards over the sea. The second movement "jeux de vagues" (Games of the Waves) portrays a swiftly ebbing and flowing sea. Here we are only spectators. Again, a metaphysical sentiment creeps up on us with the question: what does the sea look like when not experienced by the human senses? Debussy's depiction stresses a kind of gradual organic flowing that is also indicative of his own memories of the sea. The final movement "Dialogue du vent et de la mer" (Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea) begins with a heightened level of intrigue. The title conveys the restlessness of a rising, swelling surf, and no longer the natural rolling of a calm sea. It also signals competing sections of the orchestra, especially in pieces that only on occasion fare a totality of instrumentality. Here the wind is to the sea as the sea is to the composer's memories, a relational conjunction that witnesses either pole as incomplete without the other. "Berceuse héroique" is a piece that commemorates the spirit of the Belgian people right after the start of World War I. This piece is less impressionistic and what can also be described as consisting of a much more linear construction. Riddled with a tragic pathos, it is the kind of work that lingers not so much in our memory as it does in our emotions. | September 2005   Pedro Blas Gonzalez is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Barry University in Miami, Florida. Amongst his intellectual pursuits is his interest in the relationship that exists between subjectivity, self-autonomy and philosophy.	The absence of rough edges lends Debussy's music a potency over the tempo of our lives today that begs for a greater realization of evanescent temporal duration.