His soon-to-be-released album includes two premiere recordings plus an unpublished 1950 piano sonata that later became the wind composition Chants alizés.
Pianist Clément Canonne recording late piano music by Florent Schmitt at IRCAM’s Espace de projection in Paris (December 2023).
A new recording of piano works by Florent Schmitt is scheduled for release in mid-2024 – one that’s particularly important in that its focus will be on late-career compositions that have never been commercially recorded before now.
The musician bringing these three compositions to the microphones is the French pianist Clément Canonne. Trained in piano performance at the Lyon Conservatoire, Mr. Canonne has made his career in the field of music research. But recently he has put renewed energies into performing, and one of the fruits of his activities is a soon-to-be-released recording that includes the following works by Florent Schmitt:
- Clavecin obtempérant, Op. 109 (“The Ill-Tempered Clavier”) — a work for harpsichord or piano composed in 1946 for harpsichordist Marcelle de Lacour
- Scènes de la vie moyenne, Op. 124 (“Scenes from the Mundane Life”) — composed in 1950 in both orchestral and piano versions
- Piano Sonata – the original 1950 version of a composition that would later become Chants alizés, Op. 125 for wind quintet
Florent Schmitt, age 83, seated at the doorway to his study at his home in St-Cloud, France. This photograph was taken in 1953, around the time that the three works featured in Clément Canonne’s soon-to-be-released recording of late-career Schmitt piano compositions were created. (Photo: ©Lipnitzki/Roger-Viollet)
Significantly, all three pieces are commercial recording premieres (although the final wind ensemble version of Chants alizés has received a number of recordings during the LP and CD eras).
Clément Canonne has a keen interest in these late-career compositions, which were written by Schmitt as he approached his 80th birthday and beyond. While they bear unmistakable characteristics of the artistry of the master, they differ markedly from the vast trove of piano music that Schmitt had created during the first 30 years of his career. Those earlier scores are generally better known and performed more frequently.
Intrigued by the pianist’s interest in these works, I contacted him to learn more about how he came to discover the compositions, as well as to find out why he considers them such significant works. Highlights of our highly engaging discussion are presented below. (Note: Mr. Canonne’s comments are translated from French into English.)
PLN: Let’s start at the very beginning. Do you remember how you first became acquainted with Florent Schmitt’s music? Which pieces were your introduction to the composer?
CC: I discovered Florent Schmitt’s music at around the age of 16 or 17, I think. This was about the time I began practicing the piano works of Ravel and Debussy. Those pieces led me to explore other French composers from the early 20th century in a more systematic way.
The 1993 Valois recording that sparked Clément Canonne’s interest in the music of Florent Schmitt.
In so doing, I quickly came across the name of Schmitt. In particular, I acquired a CD [on the Valois label] which contained his Sonate libre for violin and piano and the quartet Hasards. I was fascinated by the sonata. I didn’t understand everything about it — far from it — but was intrigued enough to want to hear it again and again until the work became completely familiar to me!
Since then, I never lost sight of Florent Schmitt, and I’ve tried to keep up to date with the new releases of recordings devoted to this composer.
PLN: What impresses you most about Florent Schmitt’s keyboard compositions? In your view, does he write idiomatically for piano?
A vintage copy of the score to Florent Schmitt’s Ombres, inscribed by the composer to the English pianist Myra Hess (1919).
CC: Actually, I recall that my first contact with Schmitt’s solo piano works was a bit disappointing. I wasn’t particularly interested in his very early works, but instead placed a lot of hope in Ombres [1912-17], expecting to discover another Gaspard de la nuit. When I was finally able to get my hands on the score, I quickly gave up. The piano writing seemed too “thick” to me – and much more orchestral than pianistic in inspiration.
I remember, for example, the tremolos in the first pages of the opening movement, J’entends dans le lointain, which seemed to be a somewhat unsuccessful way of bringing the musical line “to life” in octaves — far from the kind of vibrating unleashing that one encounters in contemporaneous works of Scriabin or Szymanowski, for example.
I readily acknowledge the subjective – and perhaps even unfair – nature of this judgment, but it explains why I did not persevere at that time! The way I saw it, Schmitt was above all a composer of chamber music and orchestral music — that is, until I became acquainted with later [mid-1930s] piano works such as Chaîne brisée and Trois danses. I found Schmitt’s “orchestral” writing in those as well — but stripped of what had frustrated or annoyed me when reading Ombres. The complexity of these later piano pages no longer seemed linked to an excess of ornamentation, but rather to an extreme mobility and great harmonic density – two characteristics that have a lot to do with a kind of properly pianistic virtuosity.
In my view, it is what makes the music both orchestral and pianistic, as it is in the piano version of Stravinsky’s Pétrouchka.
PLN: For your new recording, you have selected three Schmitt compositions that have never been commercially recorded before now. All three are “late-career” works, having been composed when Schmitt was nearing 80 years of age and older. What drew you to these particular pieces?
CC: Beyond the aesthetic points I’ve already mentioned, there are two other, more pragmatic reasons that guided me towards these sets – and both have something to do with my professional activities. Although professionally trained in piano performance at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse in Lyon, I gravitated towards the field of research at the conclusion of my musical studies – a profession that I have now practiced for nearly a decade within the National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS), the most important institution for public research in France. I wanted the Schmitt recording project to be complementary to my work in research, which aims to produce and disseminate new knowledge.
A stone plaque commemorating Florent Schmitt’s tenure as director of the Lyon Conservatoire (1921-23). Clément Canonne studied at the same institution eight decades later.
Providing access to piano pieces that have never been recorded ties in well with this objective.
Furthermore — and still as part of my work as a researcher — I have developed an interest in the topic of “humor” in music. Specifically, what are the musical and sonic parameters that facilitate the inference of a humorous intention? With what values are musical humor practices associated? And to what extent can those theories be developed to account for verbal or representational forms of humor?
With regards to such questions, the music of Florent Schmitt provides an interesting case study: Whereas the “humor” is clearly stated as we can see in the titles of his pieces, the humor is often more discreet in the music itself. The three works that I selected for recording [“The Ill-Tempered Clavier,” “Scenes from the Mundane Life,” Chants alizés/”Champs-Elysées”] are no exception. Moreover, they’ve enabled me to examine questions related to the pragmatics of musical humor, by exploring the interpretative resources available to us in the communication of a humorous intention.
PLN: Regarding Clavecin obtempérant, this work was written originally for harpsichordist Marcelle de Lacour in 1946. But the published score indicates either harpsichord or piano instrumentation. In what ways does the piece come across differently when played as a piano composition rather than one for the harpsichord?
The Clavecin obtempérant score denotes performance on either piano or harpsichord.
CC: To begin with, we need to remember that the harpsichord to which Schmitt had access was most likely Pleyel’s great concert model — an instrument very far removed from what we consider a “harpsichord” today — and closer to a piano than what we generally imagine when we think of the harpsichord.
But even beyond this, for me there is little doubt that Schmitt composed Clavecin obtempérant both on the piano and for the piano. It’s evidenced by the great variety of the dynamic palette (from pp to ff), the numerous crescendos and decrescendos which dot the work, and even the chords that the composer directs to be allowed to resonate here and there.
The first page of the score to Florent Schmitt’s Clavecin obtempérant (“The Ill-Tempered Clavier”).
The score also includes many octaves and large chords – as in the climax of the final “Animé” movement – which provide a lot of energy when played on the piano but risk sounding less rewarding on the harpsichord.
All that being said, behind this very pianistic writing there is definitely something like an evocation of the harpsichord, too. In this respect, the piece is not unrelated to Ravel’s Tombeau de Couperin. By playing this work on the piano, I endeavored to emulate the precision that we readily associate with the harpsichord, while always staying very close to the fingers in the playing of the phrases.
PLN: Turning to Scènes de la vie moyenne, this four-movement suite from 1950-51 appeared simultaneously as a solo piano composition and a work for orchestra. As such, the piano version is quite “orchestral” in its flavor, which might pose additional technical difficulties. What challenges did you encounter when developing your interpretation of this music?
A vintage copy of the score to the piano version of Florent Schmitt’s Scènes de la vie moyenne, dedicated to the French pianist Lélia Gousseau.
CC: Scènes de la vie moyenne is certainly highly virtuosic music. It would not be out of place in a recital of transcriptions alongside Ravel’s La Valse or Stravinsky’s Pétrouchka. As is so often the case, the main difficulty is in maintaining the readability of the different lines despite the richness of the overall texture, along with compensating for the absence of instrumental contrasts by achieving greater precision in the dynamic or agogic accent characterizations – all of which further increase the need for maintaining pianistic control.
PLN: Each of the movements of the suite is quite different in musical flavor. What thoughts do you have about each of them – and do you have a favorite of the four?
CC: The suite presents a certain “dramatic” unity, with a chicken as the main character! Chabrier and his art of musical painting are never far away.
Within the suite, “Castles in Spain” contrasts sharply between gentle reverie and passionate outbursts, all in a hyper-chromatic language. It is undoubtedly in this movement where I searched most for what the right “tone” could be; ultimately I chose to emphasize the great lyricism of these pages rather than trying to “twist” the melodic lines.
This oasis of reverie only reinforces the incongruity of the “Chicken Somersault” – a truly devilish final movement that’s full of octaves and thirds, right down to the chord strokes in contrary motions of the last measure! The tone may sometimes be lyrical but it is never for long, and there is always an ornament or a brief silence to interrupt the flow and thwart any pathos.
The first page manuscript to the orchestral version of the “Castles in Spain” movement from Florent Schmitt’s Scènes de la vie moyenne.
Broadly, if I had to choose one movement from this suite that is the most compelling to me, it would be the first, titled “The March to the Market.” I admire its implacable character – the rhythmic engine that underlies it all – as well as its truculence. You really do have the impression of being immersed in the hubbub of a market scene, and the contrasting or collage effects seem to me to be particularly effective.
PLN: Chants alizés is interesting in that it’s listed in the Schmitt catalogue of works as a quintet for flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon and horn. Nowhere do we find any reference of it as a solo piano work. Tell us how you discovered this version of the piece.
CC: While investigating the piano works of Florent Schmitt on the website of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, I came across a mysterious mention: “Piano sonata, first version of Chants alizés, quintet for wind instruments, opus 125.” Intrigued, I immediately made an appointment at the Music Department of the BNF in order to view the manuscript. There I discovered a perfectly clean manuscript score, dated December 25, 1950.
The first page of the manuscript score to Florent Schmitt’s Piano Sonata, which was used by Clément Canonne in making his recording in December 2023.
The version the world knows best — scored for wind ensemble and published in 1955 as Florent Schmitt’s Opus 125.
I don’t know why Schmitt ended up not publishing this so-called “piano sonata” – the only piece so named among his entire output. We do know that he received a commission from the ORTF’s wind quintet shortly after completing the manuscript of this sonata — and so one could hypothesize that he decided that his recent sonata could very well do the job to fulfill that commission.
In fact, the manuscript of the piano sonata includes a very large number of pencil modifications that were clearly made after the completion of the original score — and which aim to both orchestrate and transform the piano material for performance by a quintet of wind players.
My recording presents the initial manuscript version as prepared by Florent Schmitt when he had the writing of a piano sonata in mind, before rewriting the work for wind quintet.
PLN: When you compare the final wind version to the initial piano sonata treatment, what major differences do you see? How successful is the piece as a piano work, and which attributes appeal to you in particular?
CC: The piano version has some notable differences from the wind quintet version, particularly in the first movement, the middle portion of the second movement, and the lyrical spots of the fourth movement. The initial movement is titled “Un poco maestoso” in the piano version, which became “Of a somewhat martial gravity” in the wind quintet version. The irony implied by this indication (and which Schmitt achieves in particular by giving a somewhat separate role to the horn, and by the use of certain dissonances) is not present at all in the piano version, which I characterize as a much more “serious” inspiration.
Clément Canonne recording Florent Schmitt’s Piano Sonata at IRCAM’s Espace de projection in Paris (December 2023).
In any case, this “sonata” is perfectly pianistic even as it remains formidably challenging — like practically everything else that Schmitt wrote for the instrument. I’ll add that it was extremely moving to see and interact with the clear, meticulous handwriting of the composer while attempting to bring this piano sonata back to life.
Of course, the discovery is not completely “new” since the basic thematic material will already be familiar to fans of Florent Schmitt’s music, as well as to many wind players in general. But we’re finally able to hear what the piano sonata of a composer who waited more than 80 years to write his first (and only) one sounds like!
PLN: In this new recording, and in other pieces by Florent Schmitt that you have worked on, you tend to gravitate to the composer’s later period of compositions rather than the extensive body of piano works he composed between the 1890s and 1920s – some of those significantly better known. What aspects of Schmitt’s later style do you find particularly compelling and worthy?
CC: Broadly speaking, I appreciate the “edgier” character of Florent Schmitt’s late period, with its clear, bold harmonies and great rhythmic power always evident. Schmitt’s piano works of this period are no exception, and I think they deserve to be much better known!
PLN: Please tell us a little about your background as a musician – as well as your work with IRCAM.
CC: My training is that of a classical pianist: I studied at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse in Lyon, where I was very interested in contemporary music and in accompanying singers.
The 2008 Les Emeudroïdes recording on the Neos Music label. Clément Canonne is pictured at far left.
In those years I also practiced improvisation, and in 2008 I made a recording on the Neos Music label featuring my quintet Les Emeudroïdes.
Concurrently, I studied philosophy and musicology, preparing a doctoral thesis devoted to collective improvisation. At the conclusion of this thesis, I was fortunate to be recruited at the CNRS, thereby able to work as a full-time researcher with complete academic freedom.
Pierre Boulez (1925-2016), French composer and conductor. (1968 photo)
I am part of the Institute for Research and Coordination in Acoustics/Music (IRCAM), founded by Pierre Boulez in the late 1970s with the idea of bringing artists and researchers together. Within IRCAM, I lead the Analysis of Musical Practices team; we develop empirical approaches (inspired by both social sciences and cognitive sciences) to understand better the musical world that surrounds us — from production to reception, including the multiple technical components that constitute it.
PLN: Are you currently active in the realm of piano performance?
CC: After I joined the CNRS, my pianistic activities became sporadic: a little accompanying of singers or instrumentalists, a few improvisation masterclasses — but also the use of the piano in the context of conferences for purposes of illustration or exemplification. But I have never abandoned regular piano practice, and for me this Florent Schmitt recording is a way of reconnecting with everything that nourished me before I embraced my career as a researcher.
Beyond the piano, I am active with various artistic projects as well. For instance, I participate in a Sonic Games project which attempts to produce authentic games (not just constrained scores) that take sound for medium. And also, a project on desynchronization with a wonderful sextet of musicians, for which I proposed various playing and experimentation protocols.
PLN: What is the schedule for final production and release of the new Florent Schmitt recording? When, where and how will it be available to music-lovers?
CC: The actual recording activities are finished – they were carried out in mid-December at the IRCAM Projection Space. Next is completing the editing and mixing work. The recording should be available in mid-2024, and it is being released on the Urborigène label.
The reopening of the IRCAM Espace de projection performance venue in Paris featured a presentation of Iannis Xenakis’ groundbreaking electro-acoustic creation Polytopes de Cluny. (Photo: Quentin Chevrier, June 2022)
The CD version of the recording will be available by ordering directly from the label, and the CD will include a booklet with three essays written especially for it by fellow musicologists.
The download/streaming version of the recording will be available on the usual platforms, too.
At the moment, we’re still looking for a little additional financial support to finalize the release, including CD pressing costs, and to ensure good distribution of the recording. To that end, we’ll be launching a crowdfunding effort in the coming weeks, and we’re hopeful that Florent Schmitt fans around the world will be able to help us bring the project home!
PLN: Do you have plans to continue your exploration of the music of Florent Schmitt, possibly with an eye towards more recording? Which pieces in particular interest you?
CC: Indeed, I would like to continue this work dedicated to Florent Schmitt’s scores by recording a second CD of later-career piano works. That disc would likely include Trois danses, Chaîne brisée, and the Suite sans esprit de suite. I don’t have firm plans or a timeline quite yet, because those dates will depend in part on what the reception will be to the first recording.
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We are indebted to musicians like Clément Canonne, whose endless curiosity has led him to investigate the byways of the piano literature, uncovering unjustly neglected gems and undertaking the recording of those compositions.
Finalizing the release of the premiere recordings of three late-career piano works by Florent Schmitt is an endeavor that is clearly worthy of our support. Details on the fundraising initiative will be shared as soon as they are available.