The Story of Bolero

Bolero is the most famous and the most beloved composition written by Maurice Ravel, and one of the most popular works in the orchestral repertoire today. Yet it’s rarely been performed as he originally envisioned. Ravel described the piece as “a symphonic poem without a subject, where the whole interest will be in the rhythm.” His feelings about it were clear. “I’ve written only one masterpiece – Boléro. Unfortunately there’s no music in it.”

The story behind Bolero fascinates me. It began when the ballerina Ida Rubenstein commissioned Ravel to create a ballet of six orchestral transcriptions from Iberia, a set of piano pieces written by Albeniz. When Ravel learned that a Spanish conductor had already created such transcriptions that were protected under copyright law, he decided to create new music of his own based on the famous Spanish dance. He fashioned a melody derived from Islamic Sufi culture with “an insistent quality” that would allow him to “repeat it a number of times without any development.” In only 5 months, Ravel had completed Bolero, “an experiment in a very special and limited direction … a piece lasting seventeen minutes and consisting wholly of orchestral tissue without music”. A snare drum rhythm opens the work and continues a persistent, unabated accompaniment for the 18 orchestrations of the theme Ravel created – without any attempt at contrast or development – in “one long, very gradual crescendo.” 

The work was acclaimed by a loud, cheering audience at its premiere on November 22, 1928 at the Paris Opera. Ravel had wanted to use an open air setting framed by a factory to reflect the mechanical aspect of his music. Instead, Ida Rubensein performed as a Spanish tavern table dancer whose increasingly enticing, sultry movements progressively excited and provoked her audience into the signature climatic crescendo. Apparently one elderly woman could be heard yelling “rubbish…the madman… the madman.” Ravel was heard to comment that the old lady had understood the piece, and that most orchestras would refuse to play it.

But one year later Toscanini performed the American premiere with the New York Philharmonic to such immense success that a leading critic claimed that he had made Ravel “almost an American hero.” The following spring Toscanini programmed Bolero on the Philharmonic’s European tour, and once again Bolero was performed at the Paris Opera. During the audience ovation, Ravel ignored the conductors invitation to stand or take a bow, disturbed that the tempo was significantly faster than his own. The two met backstage and Ravel apparently told him “It’s too fast. Thats not my tempo.” Toscanini felt that it was the only way to save the work. “When I play it at your tempo, it is not effective.” “Then don’t play it.” Ravel told him. In an effort to diffuse their differences, Ravel sent Toscanini a note and invited Toscanini to conduct the premiere of his Piano Concerto for the Left Hand. It was refused.

To Ravel’s chagrin, all of this only served to heighten the fame of Bolero, engendering numerous performances and recordings (even Ravel’s own, too) and a movie was produced that prominently featured the music. Was Ravel correct that his original tempo was integral to the piece, and to insist on its adherence? Toscanini’s role in popularizing the work was substantial, but did that give him license to ignore the composers wishes? I actually believe they were both right, if for only one important reason. Ravel’s conception was that of a ballet with music and dance totally enmeshed, integrated into both an aural and visual experience. Toscanini’s perception was that of a concert piece, with the music alone now communicating a distinctive listening experience. Any number of ballet scores are successfully presented as such whether based on existing works or composed specifically for an original concept. But does that work in this instance? After all, it’s simply a melody, magnificently repeated 18 times in ever growing intensity of deftly changing hues and colors to but one insistent rhythm before a dramatic climax. No other piece of music like Bolero exists. Ravel’s conception is all together one that’s more languid, and allows for more dramatic, expressive movements of the dancers. Without them, the tempo becomes an element that helps sustain the listeners interest and propel them into the climax. 

You can be the judge. There are hundreds of versions of the music alone readily available, but recorded versions of the ballet are very rare. I’ll let you have a look, and a listen. I’m interested to know what you decide – your thoughts and comments are welcomed!

Which one do you like the best?

Maurice Bejart did the choreography for Bolero that has been performed many times, and here are 3 versions: