While waiting through 44 measures during a performance of Ravel's Boléro, Bram Nolf, who plays the English horn in the Belgian National Orchestra, observed a fascinating parallel between the orchestra and our society. He shares his reflections in the column below.
Some time ago, the Belgian National Orchestra performed Ravel's Boléro ("Le beau vélo de Ravel," as the musicians like to call it). As you probably know, this piece begins very softly, with the snare drum barely audible, and builds up over fifteen minutes—with only two alternating melodies—towards an incredibly grandiose and impressive finale. Even though Maurice Ravel didn't hold his Boléro in particularly high esteem, it is undeniably a fantastic work. Thanks to its repetitive nature and a breathtaking crescendo, but especially because the composer masterfully incorporates his entire orchestral palette, and proves himself to be a true magician of tone colour.
However, this Boléro also has something peculiar: just before the finale, when the full orchestra is already giving its all, the English horn (played by yours truly) suddenly falls silent for 44 bars. It's quite odd that Ravel should relegate a musician to the role of a spectator at the very moment when he calls upon all the instruments to raise their voice. Could it be that he simply forgot about this instrument in that passage? No one knows for sure, but this "oversight" has not been amended since the Boléro’s premiere in 1928, and likely never will be, as time has cemented it into tradition.
As I was taking advantage of this forced break to observe my colleagues—who were busy giving their best performances—I reflected on how a symphony orchestra is a superb metaphor for our society…
A symphony orchestra (like your beloved Belgian National Orchestra) consists of an astonishing variety of different instruments. Each has its own timbre, richness, possibilities, but also its limits. The tuba, for instance, can play incredibly low notes and very loudly, something a violin simply cannot do. But the violin, in turn, can produce very high, soft sounds, a “feat” unimaginable for a tuba. And there are dozens of examples like this—just think about the unique characteristics of each instrument or group of instruments. There is, therefore, hardly any equality among the instruments, but rather diversity and complementarity.
Over time, this collection of diverse instruments has evolved and standardized (on a global scale) into the musical ensemble we know today—first violins, second violins, violas, cellos, double basses, flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, trumpets, horns, trombones, tuba, harp, percussion, and occasionally piano and celesta—and this is no accident. After centuries of development, experimentation, adaptation and the increase in musicians, this standard ensemble has become an amazing sound machine with a superb balance. In other words, the inequality and diversity I just mentioned do not result in a disorganized assembly. On the contrary, we are dealing with an incredibly sophisticated structure made up of highly diverse components.
No doubt this is why the symphonic apparatus continues to fascinate us. A symphony orchestra perhaps represents a unique metaphor for a society that has found its balance and stability—a society also made up of many different people: the young, the not-so-young, thinkers, doers, the sick and the healthy, entrepreneurs, followers, creatives, performers and so on. Each individual has their own qualities, abilities, strengths and limitations. In an ideal world, all these people would come together, like in a symphony orchestra, to achieve a result as grand as Ravel’s Boléro.
In our society, of course, we are not there yet. And this perfect balance may forever remain a utopia. Still, it is an ideal worth pursuing.
An interesting thought indeed, but I almost forgot to join my fellow musicians for the last six bars of the Boléro... Luckily, I came down from my little cloud just in time. :-)
See you soon, at Bozar or elsewhere in Belgium!
Bram