Written more than 12 years after Fêtes Galantes I, this sequel is likewise taken from the poetic works of Paul Verlaine. The differences between the two sets of Fêtes Galantes illuminate the stylistic growth that occurred between the beginnings of Debussy's career and the apex of his productivity: dealing with the most ephemeral of topics and moods, these three songs are among the most subtle and mysterious that Debussy ever wrote—arguably his finest. His use of color and texture, especially in the piano, help to illuminate the characters as they experience the complexities of the sensual world about them.

Fêtes Galantes II occupies an expressive netherworld that straddles the real and unreal, the waking and the dream state. This tone is immediately established in the first song, "Les Ingénus" ("The Innocents"), as the singer recalls the images and impressions from the first awakening of his interest in the opposite sex. The accompanimental ostinato—ticking with clock-like regularity—restrains the voice rhythmically and expressively; the effect is of a memory so vivid, so strong, that the one relating is entranced. The climax of the song speaks of how the sight of female skin was almost unbearable to the singer's once young and foolish senses; he seems to momentarily forget himself as the music escalates beyond its hushed sensibilities and allows for an outburst. This fades, however, and, as is typical of Verlaine's symbolist aesthetic, we are left to decipher the specific consequences of this first encounter without benefit of an explanation.

"Le faune" ("The Faun"), which follows, also makes use of an ostinato. But, whereas that of the first song is somewhat dry and ephemeral, this repeated pattern of open fifths and octaves in the bass register immediately establishes a new affect: innocence has given way to full-fledged sensual experience. The narrator speaks, as if still in the time, to his partner in a presumably erotic encounter; neither participant is sure of his/her exact motive, but both have surrendered to the beat of the drums, as embodied by the piano ostinato. Unrelenting in rhythm and rich sonic texture, this song is as hypnotic as one imagines the moment to have been.

The third song of the group, "Colloque Sentimental," is especially interesting; it brings to life the ghostly dialogue of two lovers, long since dead, as they relive their moments together. The singer assumes both roles, one rhapsodic and nostalgic, and the other terse - perhaps even bitter. Unlike the first two songs, there is no ostinato, and the song takes on a much more sprawling, appropriately conversational quality. The "rhapsodic" voice, impassioned in memory, sings phrases drawn from Debussy's most sensuous pen; that of the terse partner inhabits less optimistic, dry music - he (she) is not anxious to remember. The song, like the event it embodies, is incredibly fragile, easily broken by a careless vocal phrase or pianistic accent.

The fidelity implied by these two ghostly lovers, presumed to be faithful even beyond the grave, has been linked by some biographers to Debussy's newly formed union with the singer Emma Bardac, mother-to-be of his beloved daughter, Claude-Emma (Chou-chou). A notorious philanderer in his past (the suicide attempt of his recently abandoned wife caused an international scandal in the music community), he perhaps wanted to express his intentions of "turning a new leaf." Whatever the inspiration, Verlaine's delicate and evocative poems drew from Debussy some of his most satisfying (yet appropriately fleeting) settings.





© All Music Guide