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The Sarasota Ballet Performing Valses nobles et sentimentales at the Linbury Theatre | Photography by Foteini Christofilopoulou
The Sarasota Ballet Performing Valses nobles et sentimentales at the Linbury Theatre | Photography by Foteini Christofilopoulou
The Sarasota Ballet Performing Valses nobles et sentimentales at the Linbury Theatre | Photography by Foteini Christofilopoulou
The Sarasota Ballet Performing Valses nobles et sentimentales at the Linbury Theatre | Photography by Foteini Christofilopoulou

The Sarasota Ballet Performing Valses nobles et sentimentales at the Linbury Theatre | Photography by Foteini Christofilopoulou

Valses nobles et sentimentales

Maurice Ravel admitted his own fascination with the waltz, a folk dance formerly banned by the Pope (its dancers grasped each other around the waist!) and firmly identified with the early 19th century Romantic movement. “The title sufficiently indicates my intention to compose a succession of waltzes, after Schubert’s example” wrote Ravel, referring to Schubert’s earlier use of the same title.

The composer intended his homage to Schubert to be at the same time nostalgically retrospective and entirely contemporary: Ravel always liked to startle and surprise, and he was interested in modernism and jazz, as we can hear in his later piano concerti. The music writer Roger Nichols summed up Valses nobles et sentimentales perfectly, as offering “nostalgia without incoherence, sentiment without sentimentality.”

In 1906 Ravel started work on his waltz project, culminating in his 1919 La Valse. Before then, he had presented his Valses nobles et sentimentales in an anonymous 1911 Paris competition, dedicated to the pianist Louis Aubert, where the audience attributed it to Zoltan Kodaly or Erik Satie while greeting it with booing and catcalls. Ravel orchestrated his waltzes in 1912 as Adélaïde, ou le langage des fleurs.

Ashton had used Valses nobles et sentimentales for his 1935 Valentine’s Eve for Ballet Rambert, and he revisited Ravel’s ravishing, swooning score for his new 1947 piece for Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet, which encapsulated the postwar yearning for glamour, style and elegance in a Britain bankrupted by World War II and still dominated by austerity and rationing.

Sophie Fedorovitch designed Ashton’s ballet against an abstract décor of screens and silhouetted palms, suggesting a ballroom, with luscious velvet and tulle costumes in maroon and pink, redolent of both the original 1830s Romantic ballet and the exhilarating Parisian catwalk designs of Christian Dior’s 1947 New Look, with its elegantly exaggerated feminine tailoring and extravagant yards of swirling skirts. Nothing could have captured so completely the glamorous, escapist dreams of a glumly rationed postwar Britain.

Creative Team