Over his long composing career, Florent Schmitt wrote numerous concertante pieces showcasing nearly every instrument of the orchestra.
As with a good number of other French composers, some of these works were written as examination pieces for students at the Paris Conservatoire.
A representative example is Schmitt’s Suite en trois parties for Trumpet & Piano, Op. 133, a work he composed in 1955.
Schmitt’s score isn’t the only piece for trumpet composed for students of the Conservatoire; other works composed during the first half of the 20th century included ones by Camille Saint-Saëns, Claude Debussy, Arthur Honegger, Philippe Gaubert, Olivier Messiaen, Guillaume Balay, André Chailleux, Jeanine Rueff and Theo Charlier.
The Trumpet Suite is a late work: It is #133 out of a total of 138 opus numbers in the Schmitt catalogue – written when the composer was in his mid-80s.
To my ears, the music bears no indication at all of an aged or tired musician. Instead, I hear three contrasting movements exuding a level of inspiration that rises well above that of a mere competition or demonstration piece.
To be sure, there are many challenging passages for the soloist, but they don’t seem to have been incorporated into the piece purely for the pyrotechnics. And at no time does the music come across as ”rhetorical.”
As was his custom with many of his compositions, Florent Schmitt orchestrated the Suite, and so this music has had a life in the concert hall in addition to recital programs.
In fact, Schmitt’s Suite stands alongside several notable trumpet concertante works composed by other French composers during the same time period – among the most famous being the trumpet concertos of Henri Tomasi and André Jolivet.
The musicologist Adélaïde de Place has written that the three movements of the Suite reveal Florent Schmitt to be an “ardent colorist.” She adds:
“The first and third parts of the suite [Gaiement and Vif] are gay, incisive and forceful, while the second part [Lent sans excès] is rather wildly lyrical, with the trumpet letting itself go over the evocative melody played by the strings and the limpid, mysterious sonorities of the harp.”
Only recording of the orchestral version: Eric Aubier and l’Orchestre de Bretagne.
I am aware of just one recording of the Trumpet Suite in its orchestral garb – a fine quality performance by Eric Aubier with l’Orchestre de Bretagne conducted by François-Xavier Bilger. It was released in 1998 on the Pierre Verany (Arion) label.
By contrast, in its original trumpet-and-piano form the Suite has had more exposure in the recital hall and in recordings.
To my knowledge, the first recording was made in 1989 by noted Swedish trumpeter Håkan Hardenberger with Roland Pöntinen at the piano (released on the Philips label).
That blockbuster recording, which also features György Ligeti’s Mysteries of the Macabre, remains my personal favorite of the numerous trumpet CDs Mr. Hardenberger has recorded.
More recently, Schmitt’s Trumpet Suite has been recorded by Pascal Vigneron (in 2005 on the Quantum label) and Hannes Läubin (in 2006 on the Audite label).
Tora Thorslund’s live performance of Florent Schmitt’s Trumpet Suite is uploaded on YouTube.
Also, there is a highly effective live recital performance of the Suite available on YouTube, featuring another Swedish trumpet player, Tora Thorslund.
Interestingly, when comparing the piano and orchestra versions of the Suite, it quickly becomes clear that Schmitt managed to conjure up the same dose of “color” in both.
As British music critic Paul Griffiths has claimed, the second movement of the Suite, with its muted trumpet sounds, is positively “voluptuous” even in the piano version.
Griffiths is correct: That movement – and indeed the entire Suite – has atmosphere to burn.
