Over the centuries London has played host to so many great composers. None has taken the city, and the British way of life, more to his heart, through his visits and through his music, than Claude Debussy.
Between 1902 and 1914 he was a regular visitor to London, sometimes as a tourist, eager to take in what it had to offer, sometimes as a composer or music critic, but always happy to be here.
It was in London, at the Lyric Theatre, that Debussy saw the celebrated Shakespearean actor Sir Johnston Forbes-Robertson in his most famous role as Hamlet. The composer spoke very little English, but at the end of that performance a friend said, ‘he seemed like a child in a trance. So profoundly affected was he that it was some time before he could speak.’
Again in London, this time at the Vaudeville Theatre, Debussy saw two other great names of the Edwardian stage, Sarah Bernhardt and Mrs Patrick Campbell, perform, in French, Maurice Maeterlinck’s play Pelléas et Mélisande.
Debussy also visited the National and Tate galleries, where he was amazed by some of Turner’s paintings and how they seemed to mirror his own musical impressionism.
As a critic, Debussy came to London to report for a Paris musical journal on a production of Wagner’s ‘Ring’ cycle at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. Afterwards, he impishly wrote to another friend, he sneaked off to the Empire music hall in Leicester Square, ‘as a reward for good behaviour’.
He was back at Covent Garden to sit in on rehearsals for the first London production of his own opera Pelléas et Mélisande (based on Maeterlinck’s play), with the great Scottish soprano Mary Garden in the starring role. And despite his shy and retiring nature, Debussy accepted an invitation from Sir Henry Wood (of Promenade Concerts fame) to conduct a programme of his own music at the Queen’s Hall, London’s famous old concert hall until it was destroyed by bombs in 1941.
On his last visit Debussy was the guest of financier and arts patron Sir Edgar Speyer, staying in style at the latter’s home in Grosvenor Street, Mayfair. Alas it was also a rather sad occasion. The composer was by then a sick man, and the outbreak of the First World War was only weeks away.
So to the music. It was in fact at the Grand Hotel in Eastbourne, in 1905, that Debussy put the finishing touches to his orchestral masterpiece La Mer. It was also there that he probably saw the seaside minstrel show that inspired his piano piece of the same name, with its imitation staccato drum beats and sly snatches of a popular song.
That same year Debussy’s daughter Claude-Emma (known to everyone as ‘Chou Chou’) was born, and a little while later she was given a copy of J. M. Barrie’s Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. From this book Debussy took the quotation, ‘the fairies are exquisite dancers’, as the inspiration for another piano piece, Les fées sont d’exquises danseuses, with its gossamer finger work and shimmering chords.
This piece and Minstrels come from the composer’s two sets or books of piano Préludes. Also included in this wonderfully evocative collection are La Dance de Puck, a portrait of the mischievous and mercurial sprite in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream; Hommage à S. Pickwick Esq, P. P. M. P. C., Debussy’s whimsical tribute to Charles Dickens, with its mock-solemn opening to the National Anthem;; while the composer travelled in his imagination north of the border in the soft and delicate La Fille aux cheveux de lin (The Girl with the Flaxen Hair).
Debussy’s attachment to London and to England needs no introduction in his Children’s Corner suite for piano. Dedicated to ‘Chou Chou’, the collective title and that of each piece is in English because the little girl was learning to speak the language from her English nanny. Rather touchingly, Debussy misspelled ‘Jumbo’ in ‘Jimbo’s Lullaby’. The well- known ‘Golliwog’s Cakewalk’ ends this enchanting suite.
One more English reference comes to us in Gigues, from the composer’s orchestral Images, with its melancholy reflection on the old Tyneside folk song, ‘The Keel Row’.
By the way, on that evening in 1903 at the Empire music hall, a conjurer drew a French Tricolour and a Union Jack out of a hat to celebrate the Entente Cordiale. No one more cordially nor magically echoed its spirit than France’s greatest composer.