Fifty two minutes of X-rated Debussy! A faun's erotic afternoon fantasies, Jeux's suspect shenanigans with tennis balls and something lurking in the shadows, and Sebastien's masochistic martyrdom where he encourages the arrows with the words ''I am the target, from the depths I call forth your terrible love''. Phew! Thank heavens for a further 23 minutes of La mer's cooling waters (and Decca for a generously filled disc).
Except that La mer is placed first. Dutoit's sunrise is just another dawn, with the woodwind and trumpet figures (from bar 6) already in bold relief. This La mer is properly forward moving, which is welcome after the expansive stances taken by Sinopoli and Bernstein in their recent DG versions, but a little touched by routine. Perhaps a bit of a rushed job, too: after fig. 5 (2'27'') the horns are out of step with the rest of the orchestra, and I don't feel that conductor or engineers (or both) have taken enough care to ensure that the myriad flecks of fast moving woodwind detail receive due prominence. That said, the brass playing is often miraculous (and very clear): the accuracy and delicacy of the muted trumpet triplets in the third movement (from 6'16''), for example. And the closing pages are a jubilant noise, but a supremely articulate one rhythmically and sonically. Further points are awarded for Dutoit's inclusion of the extra bass parts in this movement (omitted from the Durand score 4 bars after fig. 59, at 6'32''); whatever Debussy's final intentions may have been, to me the passage sounds empty without them. Haitink (Philips) and the famous Karajan 1964 (mid-price DG) would agree; Haitink with horns, Karajan has trumpets. Dutoit uses both.
Decca's Montreal sound is tighter, less atmospheric than of old. I miss the beautiful ambient halo and far horizons of Baudo on EMI Eminence; yet neither will you find the extraordinary clarity of the 1962 Giulini (mid-price EMI); and I wonder at the double-basses—should they grunt like diesels in Debussy? The articulation of the lower strings at the start of La mer's last movement is admirable, but, as miked, they are well above the dynamic markings.
Like Baudo, Dutoit favours fastish tempos in Jeux. The 1980 Gramophone Award-winning Haitink, and particularly Rattle (EMI) allow more space for contrast and 'play' in this fascinating score. Where the woodwind are every bit as important as the strings, the lean Decca sound with a relatively distant woodwind balance is a disadvantage. There isn't the wide open presence of the Philips soundstage for Haitink, or the superbly balanced, broad and well upholstered sound (and dynamic range) of EMI's for Rattle. Furthermore, Dutoit's tambourine seems to have lost the rhythm briefly (after fig. 38, 7'50''), and his handling of that naughty, lingering waltz at 5'05'' (fig. 27) is rather perfunctory. Rattle notes the doux et caressant marking over the strings and offers the listener the chance of a much more imaginative act of voyeurism.
So, is there a reason for buying this disc? Yes. Timothy Hutchin's solo flute steals in beautifully in the Prelude a l'apres-midi d'un faune; a performance that finds a good balance between erotic langour and playfulness but with a certain serenity, too. And the slower moving, less busy Debussy presents no problems for Dutoit and his recording team; here, as in Le martyre de Saint Sebastien, the sound is all one could wish—spacious and focused.
Le martyre is music of disturbing allure; a powerful mix of mystical (and sensual) rapture, strange pastoralism and dark undercurrents. The Archbishop of Paris forbade Catholics to attend the first performance on pain of excommunication. D'Annunzio supplied the blasphemy with his mystery play fusing the identities of Christ and Adonis; and Debussy, in a hurry, supplied the music—the best of which is contained in these four ''Symphonic fragments''. And it brings out the best in Dutoit, too. His speeds are slower than Monteux's, whose 1963 Philips version with the LSO still sounds very fine. Dutoit conjures a palpable dread in ''La Passion'' (very strong echoes of Parsifal here), and again in the opening of the last fragment ''Le Bon Pasteur'' (the scene with the arrows) where the whispered ppp string accompaniment creates an atmosphere at once haunting and highly charged. Monteux can't quite match this (or the invaluable silent background of the newcomer) and although his ''Danse extatique'' of Sebastian on burning coals has a fiercer edge and firmer tone, it is Dutoit who more consistently beguiles the ear with the sheer sorcery of Debussy's orchestration.'