Images

The association of music and images is a fundamental characteristic of Claude Debussy’s works. In addition to the many specific physical references on which he based compositions — from the ocean in La mer to all kinds of landscapes and portraits in his piano Préludes — the word Images appeared in an early set of piano pieces (1894) and in two better-known sets for piano (1905–08), before this title was used again for his orchestral triptych Images.

It was natural for Debussy to think in musical images. He was a great lover of art and counted many painters among his friends (even though he despised the term “impressionist” when it was applied to his music). But his artistic vision went beyond mere musical representation of a subject. For Debussy, his images were seen or dreamed by the mind’s eye and then realized in his colorful soundworld.

In the case of Images, the three tableaux primarily capture motion combined with the senses of sight, hearing, and even smell. As Charles Baudelaire, one of Debussy’s favorite poets, put it: “Les parfums, les couleurs et les sons se répondent ...” (The fragrances, the colors, and the sounds answer one another ...).

The melody of the first movement, Gigues, is derived from an English country dance, or jig, related to but different from the Baroque gigue. Debussy had visited England on many occasions, and he may have come across this melody on one of his trips, or he may have borrowed it from the song “Dansons la gigue” (Let’s dance the jig) by his contemporary Charles Bordes. Debussy had also originally planned to append the adjective “triste” (sad) to the title, according to a letter to his publisher Durand from 1905. No doubt, the idea of turning a cheerful dance into a melancholy melody was already present in his mind years before the composition was written.

After a brief introduction with a typically Debussian combination of harp, celesta, and woodwinds, the jig melody is played by unaccompanied oboe d’amore (pitched between the oboe and the English horn). The other woodwinds and the horns play a faster rhythmic variant of this tune while the oboe d’amore keeps repeating its own, more soulful version. The music gets more and more agitated as the rhythmic pattern of the faster-moving material is developed in a powerful orchestral crescendo that suddenly breaks off. The sad jig tune returns, gradually slowing, before the music finally fades into silence.

Iberia, the second movement of the triptych, follows a long tradition of French musicians drawing inspiration from the melodies and rhythms of Spain — perhaps the greatest example being Bizet’s opera Carmen. Aside from one short trip across the border, Debussy never visited Spain, but he was familiar with works by composers on the other side of the Pyrenees including Manuel de Falla and Isaac Albéniz. Falla later praised Debussy’s Ibéria, saying it had “a considerable and decisive influence on young Spanish composers.”

Ibéria is divided into three sections. The first, “Par les rues et par les chemins” (In the streets and in the byways), immediately creates a Spanish atmosphere with the sound of castanets. A whole town floods the streets on a warm summer evening, talking, singing, and dancing. The clarinets play a tune marked “elegant and rhythmic” and harmonized with parallel chords (one of Debussy’s recurrent techniques). Later, the horns and clarinets intone an equally cheerful second theme, soon combined with a third melody which, in contrast, is more lyrical and expressive. The first theme finally returns (now played by the oboes instead of the clarinets), before the noisy parade is over and the section quiets down to a pianissimo.

The second section is called “Les parfums de la nuit” (The aromas of the night). Falla perceived here “the intoxicating spell of Andalusian nights,” which he recalled from his youth. Several factors contribute to the magic of this movement, including special string techniques (glissandi and harmonics), sparkling celesta lines, and the return of Debussy’s parallel chords. As a result, the music seems to hover in the air, never touching the ground.

The third section of Ibéria, “Le matin d’un jour de fête” (“The morning of a festival day”) follows without interruption. As the day begins to break, we hear the distant sound of a drum with some softly plucked string pizzicatos. The night music returns for a moment in the form of a flute solo. The violins and violas imitate guitars (and Debussy even instructs half the players to hold their instruments like guitars). The clarinets are instructed to play “very cheerfully, exaggerating the accents”; a violin solo, full of double stops, must be “free and whimsical”; the oboe and English horn parts “merry and whimsical."

The final movement of Images, translated as “Round Dances of Spring,” opens with an atmosphere of warmth and serenity. Following the introduction, Debussy quotes a French folk song: “Nous n’irons plus au bois” (We won’t go to the woods anymore). This melody — which also appears in his piano piece Jardins sous la pluie (Gardens in the Rain) — is transformed in various ways. This is also the only movement of Images to bear a dedication, to Debussy’s second wife, Emma. After undergoing various rhythmic transformations, the folk song is played in long and strongly accented notes by the clarinets and the English horn, only to crumble away to tiny motives, suddenly cut short by a powerful glissando by the harp and celesta that brings the piece to a close.

According to Debussy’s correspondence with his publisher, he was torn between three potential endings. “Shall I toss up between them,” he wrote, “or try to find a fourth solution?” He finally opted for a big crescendo, “brisk and vigorous.” The last word belongs to the trombones, which cap the piece with a stupendous three-part glissando.

— adapted from a note by Peter Laki

Peter Laki is a musicologist and frequent lecturer on classical music. He is a visiting associate professor of music, emeritus, at Bard College and was The Cleveland Orchestra’s program annotator from 1990 to 2007.