PROGRAMME
Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764):
Suite in A minor, RCT 1 » 1. Prélude
Suite in A minor, RCT 5 » 7. Gavotte et six doubles
Joseph-Nicholas-Pancrace Royer (1703-1755):
Pièces de clavecin »
4. Premier et deuxième tambourins
6. L’Aimable
Jean-Baptiste Lully (1632-1687):
Le Bourgeois gentilhomme » 11. Marche pour la cérémonie des Turcs (arranged by M. Benabdallah)
Joseph-Nicholas-Pancrace Royer (1703-1755):
Pièces de clavecin »
14. La marche des scythes
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Le tombeau de Couperin »
1. Prélude, 2. Fugue, 3. Forlane, 4. Rigaudon, 5. Menuet, 6. Toccata
Programme notes:
This evening’s programme traces a distinctly French lineage of keyboard style, from the courtly brilliance of the Grand Siècle to the luminous neoclassicism of the early twentieth century. Across nearly three centuries, dance remains the common language: stylised, theatrical, and endlessly reinvented.
The music of Jean-Philippe Rameau stands at the summit of the French clavecin tradition. Both a rigorous theorist and an imaginative dramatist, Rameau expanded the expressive and harmonic possibilities of keyboard writing far beyond courtly decorum. The Prélude from the A minor suite unfolds with improvisatory freedom, its richly voiced harmonies suggesting the spontaneity of a performer testing the instrument’s colours. By contrast, the popular Gavotte et six doubles transforms a gracious dance theme into a dazzling sequence of variations, turning refinement into virtuosity.
If Rameau represents elegance, Pancrace Royer brings fire and theatrical flair. A favourite at the Paris Opéra, Royer wrote keyboard pieces that often feel almost orchestral in their drama. The Tambourins evoke rustic Provençal drums with percussive repeated notes and stamping rhythms, while L’Aimable offers lyrical charm and courtly grace. At the other extreme lies La marche des scythes, a showpiece of startling modernity: racing scales, hand-crossings, and biting accents conjure something wild and untamed. It remains one of the most electrifying works of the entire French Baroque repertoire.
The theatre itself steps onto the stage with music by Jean-Baptiste Lully, whose comédies-ballets helped define the sound of Louis XIV’s court. The famous Marche pour la cérémonie des Turcs from Le Bourgeois gentilhomme blends satire and splendour, parodying exotic “Turkish” colour through drums and bold gestures. Heard here in an arrangement for piano, the piece becomes both homage and reinvention: a playful bridge between the baroque orchestra world and the modern piano.
With Maurice Ravel, the past returns refracted through memory. Le tombeau de Couperin, written during and just after the First World War, is at once tribute and elegy: each movement honours a fallen friend while saluting the clarity and poise of the French clavecinistes, especially François Couperin. Yet this is no act of pastiche. Ravel’s language – cool, translucent, and rhythmically precise – reimagines Baroque dances in a modern light. The Prélude sparkles with liquid motion; the Fugue is delicately etched; the Forlane and Rigaudon dance with bittersweet irony; the Menuet offers suspended introspection; and the Toccata finale drives forward with glittering, mechanistic brilliance.
Taken together, these works reveal a continuous thread: the dance as character, theatre, and memory. From Versailles to modern Paris, the French keyboard tradition remains at once poised and passionate, music that invites both the mind and the body to move.
