Claude Debussy: Music Cannot be Learned Directed by Georges Gachot (review)

This film is not unique in attempting to reveal the enigmatic character of Claude Debussy through his writings and the recollections of his contemporaries. Roger Nichols, for instance, published a whole book of such reminiscences, and the composer’s letters are readily available. The advantage here is that one has pictures, sound, and film footage, together with commentary and excerpts read by various actors (all uncredited). Rather than provide subtitles to the original German soundtrack, the disc provides us with versions of the dialogue in French and English. However, subtitles are provided for two lengthy interviews with conductor/composer Manuel Rosenthal. Labels also appear to identify several of the commentators as their anecdotes are read. But the identities of the majority of the sources of these remembrances are not (except by sex) revealed until the very end of the film. Then we are shown a list (Durand, publisher; Laloy, critic; Pierné, composer and fellow student, Louÿs, writer – also, incidentally, the photographer behind many of the pictures of Debussy and his circle used extensively in the movie, and the rest) without identifying the quotes that they lay claim to. This is frustrating. One would like to know, for instance, who was the individual who climbed the stairs to the apartment on the Rue Cardinet to be told by Mme. Debussy that her husband was not at home when he could clearly be heard singing and playing the piano through the open door. Would it be justice to think that it was the critic Laloy?

Visually, the film combines photographs and paintings of Debussy (can there be a single extant photograph of Debussy not utilized?), period and modern film footage, and live performances. Choices for these latter are surprising but more than adequate. They include live performances of L’Après Midi d’un Faune and an excerpt from Iberia by the Munich Philharmonic conducted by Sergiu Celibidache; La Mer excerpts with Eugene Ormandy conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra; Reflets dans l’eau played (with score) by Sviatoslav Richter (who is also credited with playing two Préludes used elsewhere); the second movement of the String Quartet (played by the Brodsky Quartet); and Zoltán Kocis playing Golliwog’s Cakewalk. Two excerpts from Pélleas et Mélisande are taken from the Welsh National Opera production conducted by Boulez (we learn from the final credits), but there are no subtitles here, and neither of the singers (Neill Archer and Alison Hagley) are identified. We also hear a piano roll of Debussy playing part of La cathédrale engloutie, and a very scratchy recording of him accompanying Mary Garden in Il pleure dans ma coeur.

What is it we learn about Debussy in this film? His appearance: he was dark and thick set with penetrating black eyes and a low-pitched voice that fell away at the end of sentences. Of his character, we learn of his dual nature as man and artist, that he was punctilious in his habits, and a lover of fine food, art, and literature. That he was devoted to his third wife Emma and adored his daughter Chouchou. The letter that the twelve-year-old wrote to her step-sister on the death of her father is almost unbearably moving and one of the highlights of the film. This is not “biopic” in any comprehensive way because so much is left unsaid, but is, as the provocative choice of title would suggest, an attempt to explore the aesthetics of Debussy’s mind in his approach to music. The film clips of Paris, both period and modern, act as fillers over the dialogue and background music, but often seem arbitrary or even bizarre, as for instance when the voice of Mary Garden is heard over film of a train track. Apart from the shortcomings mentioned above, which, had they been addressed, would have resulted in a less frustrating movie, this is a good introduction into Debussy’s world, but not more than that...