![]() Introduction Articles Compositions Manuscripts Music samples Pictures Contributors News group What's new | Some investigations into Erik Satie
An article by Ornella Volta.
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![]() Unpublished drawing by Jean Sichler (1987) |
Satie said one day to Cocteau: "I want to write a play for dogs,
and I already have my set design: the curtain rises on a bone". It often happens with Satie that, amazed by the arresting image he suggests, we forget to dig for meaning beneath the proposal. Such a magic formula - we're happy just to mull it over, even pass it on, to transmit it intact. Why ask ourselves about the details of such a play? About its plot, its dialogue? Why did he go out of his way to describe the set?
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Simply to raise the question touches on the pedantic or superfluous.
In a play "for dogs," the bone is at once the content, the
set and the plot. The set is the play. It has often been asked why Satie wrote several of his works "for a dog". Some have seen an allusion to Chopin's Valse op. 64, no. 1 nicknamed "little dog's waltz" - or maybe a sly wink at the "Love Songs To My Dog" (Sins of Old Age) by Rossini. Others have seen, perhaps a bit more to the point, a tribute to Diogenes and other Cynics. For us, as we have written elsewhere, the dedication of the Flabby Preludes sends us back, automatically and inevitably, to the prologue of Gargantua, which begins by quoting the same portion of the "Banquet" which Satie would use in his "Portrait de Socrate". Let's take up the passage that concerns us here. Having recalled that Alcibiades had compared Socrates to "silenes", those little boxes decorated with funny and frivolous pictures, but still containing many precious ingredients, Rabelais continues: "(...) Whereunto (in your opinion) doth this little flourish of a preamble tend? For so much as you, my good disciples, and some other jolly fools of ease and leisure, reading the pleasant titles of some books of our invention, as Gargantua, Pantagruel, Whippot (Fessepinte), the Dignity of Codpieces, of Pease and Bacon with a Commentary, &c., are too ready to judge that there is nothing in them but jests, mockeries, lascivious discourse, and recreative lies; because the outside (which is the title) is usually, without any farther inquiry, entertained with scoffing and derision. But truly it is very unbeseeming to make so slight account of the works of men, seeing yourselves avouch that it is not the habit makes the monk, many being monasterially accoutred, who inwardly are nothing less than monachal, and that there are of those that wear Spanish capes, who have but little of the valour of Spaniards in them. Therefore is it, that you must open the book, and seriously consider of the matter treated in it. Then shall you find that it containeth things of far higher value than the box did promise; that is to say, that the subject thereof is not so foolish as by the title at the first sight it would appear to be. (...) did you ever see a dog with a marrowbone in his mouth, - the beast of all other, says Plato, lib. 2, de Republica, the most philosophical? If you have seen him, you might have remarked with what devotion and circumspectness he wards and watcheth it: with what care he keeps it: how fervently he holds it: how prudently he gobbets it: with what affection he breaks it: and with what diligence he sucks it. To what end all this? What moveth him to take all these pains? What are the hopes of his labour? What doth he expect to reap thereby? Nothing but a little marrow. True it is, that this little is more savoury and delicious than the great quantities of other sorts of meat, because the marrow (as Galen testifieth, 5. facult. nat. & 11. de usu partium) is a nourishment most perfectly elaboured by nature. In imitation of this dog, it becomes you to be wise, to smell, feel and have in estimation these fair goodly books, stuffed with high conceptions, which, though seemingly easy in the pursuit, are in the cope and encounter somewhat difficult. And then, like him, you must, by a sedulous lecture, and frequent meditation, break the bone, and suck out the marrow (...)".
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![]() Cover of one of Erik Satie's music notebooks (Harvard Univ., The Houghton Library) |
We've barely begun to shuffle seriously through the little works
which Satie left scattered behind him and to find, after all, that
they are not "so foolish as by the title at the first sight they
would appear to be."
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As musicologists of all stripes turn an ever-closer scrutiny on these
works, our first priority is a dusting-off that couldn't be
effectively done without having a fund of documentation and archival
material at our disposal, open to researchers as such - which the
Fondation Erik Satie has been gathering for the last several years. We believe the first job is to find the simple, basic truth behind each and every work - too often twisted or shunted away from its original goal. Before we bite into these "bones," it would be a good idea to clean them off first... You will find in these pages several (non-exhaustive) examples of investigations we have carried out, a historical context for both published works and manuscripts, as well as a list of theses and other academic papers on the subject. The Research Notes, which - with a great deal of hope - we've gathered at the end, proves (as if we had any need of proof) that our work has barely begun.
CINEMA
The last ballet composed by Erik Satie - Relâche
(1924) - includes an "entr'acte symphonique" designed to
accompany a filmed intermission, shot especially for the occasion by
René Clair. As for who first had the idea, unheard-of at the
time, to marry cinema and ballet, the debate is wide open. Do we owe
it to Satie - who for a long time had been composing furniture music
for intermissions - and who must have recalled that in 1900, when
moving pictures were still just an exotic curiosity, that short films
(comedies, preferably) were often shown during music-hall revues? In
1921, already, Satie had entitled "Super-Cinéma" a
ballet for Rolf de Maré, who would become the producer of Relâche
- a ballet he and Derain had concocted, but never got around to completing1.
Or was it Picabia's idea, since he also created the scenarios and
designs for both Relâche and René Clair's
"Entr'acte" itself? Could it have even come from Blaise
Cendrars, assistant to Abel Gance and a cinemaphile from day one -
the same Cendrars who wrote the first draft of the Relâche
scenarios (before Picabia kicked him off the project)? Miriam
Cendrars has just published a set of memoirs which, fascinating as
they are, don't shed much light on the question at hand2. |
![]() Timing of "Entr'acte." Autograph manuscript by René Clair, 1924. (Bibliothèque nationale, Département de la Musique) |
Its exact origins yet to be determined, let's see what has become of
the work since. As we know, the ballet and its entr'acte would come
to lead two very different lives. Rolf de Maré's Ballets
Suédois having dissolved not long after the premiere of Relâche3,
the ballet has not been revived in half a century. The René
Clair film, stripped of Erik Satie's music (this was still the era of
silent films), would lead the most brilliant of careers, especially
after film libraries became commonplace the world over. Toward the end of the 1960s, the Mai musical florentin had the idea of approaching René Clair about a revival of Relâche4. |
The director did some research at the Dansmuséet in Stockholm, which
contains much of the archives of the Ballets Suédois, and
discovered, along with the familiar "entracte
cinématographique," there also existed a filmed prologue
to the ballet - a prologue he had shot himself, but believed lost, in
which Satie and Picabia announce the start of the show - not by
striking the stage three times as in French theatrical tradition, but
by firing a cannon at the audience.
All the while preparing for the Florence production, René Clair found it only right and proper to complete his film "Entr'acte" with this long-forgotten prologue, and struck a deal with Pathé to produce restored prints with a soundtrack featuring, as it should have all along, the music of Erik Satie5. And so it was done. This edition is, at least on paper, the only one authorized by René Clair, currently represented by his widow, Madame Bronja René Clair6. As he worked at restoring his film, René Clair could not forget the numerous film libraries all over the world, which had been showing an amputated version for decades. He therefore struck prints of the long-lost prologue for the benefit of curators. It seems, however, that he wasn't quite explicit enough in his instructions, since we can still see, here and there, this "prologue" inserted at random, in the middle of other scenes, at the editor's whim7. Few libraries had the means to purchase new prints, regardless. Since the sixties also saw an important rediscovery of Erik Satie8, we've seen a number of pianists and orchestra directors hit on the idea of including the film "Entr'acte" in their programs, with live musical accompaniment.
To do this, performers tend to use, without a second thought, the
Satie score entitled "Cinéma"9.
They all marvel, however, at the difficulties they find in making
the music match the rhythm of the filmed sequences, which is no less
surprising when they learn that this is the first example of music
scored explicitly for film, frame-by-frame10. |
These difficulties stem from the simple fact that the score entitled
"Cinéma" corresponds exactly to the original
"entracte cinématographique," and nothing else. The
prologue - reinstated by René Clair, as we've just described,
at a much later date - should be accompanied by another portion of Relâche
- the part of the ballet which Satie called "Projection" in
the piano score and, in the orchestral score, by the affectionate
diminutive "Projectionnette"11.
According to Satie and René Clair, the intermission film clocked in at 17:15. The timing of the individual sequences communicated by René Clair to Satie, after the film's completion, appears in one of René Clair's manuscripts kept in the Bibliothèque nationale, Département de la Musique, Fonds Erik Satie, Ms 96779. The running time of the version of "Entr'acte" currently distributed by Pathé, prologue included, is 22:00.
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![]() Erik SATIE, Notes for Relâche (1924). Autograph manuscript. (Bibliothèque nationale, Département de la Musique) |
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GENEVIEVE DE BRABANT
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![]() Cover of Geneviève de Brabant by Lord Cheminot. Autograph manuscript. (Private collection) |
There's a curious story behind this work by Erik Satie and Lord
Cheminot. Inspired by a character who, according to legend,
languished for years before being miraculously rediscovered, it has
suffered the same fate as far as both the score and the libretto are
concerned - exhumed, and separately, almost fifty years apart from
each other. It seems Satie never mentioned its existence, since it has no place in the catalogues of his works - published or otherwise - established, if not under his direction, at least with his assistance, by his young friends Roland-Manuel1 and Paul Collaer2. After Satie's death, as Darius Milhaud (one of the first to enter his room in Arcueil) remembered it, "we found behind the piano a notebook containing Jack in the Box and Geneviève de Brabant, which Satie thought he'd lost on the bus"3...
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This story, unfortunately, is not confirmed by the manuscripts at
hand, because the score of Jack exists in a single
sketchbook, apparently whole, of ten-stave notepaper4,
while Geneviève was written on eight individual
sheets, of twelve staves each, torn out of a different book5.
Even if a third notebook were suddenly to reappear, containing both scores (nothing may have prevented the composer from making several manuscripts,) this would not be enough to prove that they were composed at the same time, as many have speculated since. Not always blessed with means to buy music paper, Satie often used blank pages from an old notepad for his newer compositions - making a whole new chronology for works widely separated in time. We do know, however, that his method of working demanded an exclusive and almost daily collaboration with any author who shared his work. Jack in the Box, of which the manuscript is dated, was composed in July 1899 as incidental music for a play by Jules Dépaquit6. Geneviève de Brabant was written - at an unspecified date, which our educated guess would place after 1900 - for a play by Lord Cheminot. In his witty article "Erik Satie, the Velvet Gentleman"7, George Auriol explains that this "English lord" called himself "Condamine (sic) de Latour" when he arrived in Paris incognito. According to the code of in-jokes in force at the Chat Noir (of which Auriol was one of the pillars), this information should be read backwards. Because it was in fact J.P. Contamine de Latour, or rather Patrice Contamine8, who signed the name Lord Cheminot to his literary output around 1900.
EQUIVALENCES
Satie had carried on a very intense friendship with him, from the
time of his first songs (1887) until Uspud (1892)9
at least.
In his memoirs, Contamine said that at any given time, circumstances would separate them, only to reunite them temporarily a bit later, even though Satie had already left Montmartre for Arcueil. We have seen the name "J. P. Contamine de Latour" attached to works which Satie composed, as we have just seen, between 1887 and 1892, then again for two songs in 190510. In 1900 and 1901, Satie collaborated with "Lord Cheminot" instead11. It was in this last period that Geneviève de Brabant most likely appeared. The manuscript of this "three-act play in verse and in prose", which is undated as well as the score, was written out, in green ink and in Contamine's dense, barely legible handwriting, on thirty-two sheets of poor quality paper, 25 x 18.5 cm, bearing the trademark "Journal La Presse, 12 rue du Croissant 12, Paris"12. Further research into the articles later published by Contamine in that particular paper could help with the date as well. Lord Cheminot presents the vicissitudes of the poor duchess, victim of Golo's heartless machinations, in a humorous vein which must reflect a popular fin-de-siècle view of a legendary tearjerker that was more than ripe for parody. We have recovered an engraving in which the legends come particularly close to our author's dialogue, and could well have served as a source of inspiration13. Didn't the duke of Brabant, after all, order several thousand copies of "an 'Image d'Epinal' (...) for the amusement of future generations?" One can sense yet another example of the "chatnoiresque" attitude which we've already had a chance to evoke, and which consists of systematically presenting facts in the exact opposite of the spirit in which they were intended. In a third assault on reality, one of the play's characters, no less than the well-known historical figure Frederick Barbarossa, is depicted as the grandfather of Geneviève's husband. A contemporary - according to legend - of Charles Martel, the latter should have preceded him by several centuries...
![]() Série aux Armes d'Epinal, no. 301, Pellerin et Cie, Epinal (excerpt) In Cheminot's Geneviève, other details stand out: contrary to tradition, the duchess does not give birth and is not miraculously suckled by a doe (the only allusion to this signal episode of the legend). We're also spared the pathetic death of the heroine, because the play ends with her restoration, amid the rejoicing of the crowd. Instead of being condemned to death, Golo is simply asked to leave the country (and wastes no time in finding greener pastures).
Geneviève did not have a baby and was not befriended by a doe
of any kind, Golo is not killed but only pulled away from his own
destiny, and all ends well amid the rejoicing of the crowd. As it
does in Genoveva by Robert Schumann (1848) as well14;
Satie and Contamine may well have heard a concert version of this
opera at the Salle Harnoncourt in December 1894. |
![]() Cover of the Universal edition, Vienna, 1930. |
If Lord Cheminot's plot evokes that of Schumann's only opera in
certain respects, we could also find - all things kept in proportion,
of course - some common ground with the plot of Debussy's only opera,
which was under construction at that exact time. Same setting in both
cases: a Middle Ages of the imagination, a forest, a castle. Same
kind of heroine, too: a young damsel with long tresses, victim of
men's heartlessness. Same name, phonetically at least, for the
villain, since Geneviève's Golo seems to echo Golaud in Pelléas. One could of course point out that neither Maeterlinck nor Lord Cheminot invented their characters, who belong to popular tradition. However, Satie's choice of a subject so close to the one which occupied his friend Debussy, could well not have been totally innocent15. |
By concocting a Geneviève as simple and direct as Pelléas
is rich in subtle implications, our young composer could have been
behaving like the storied young boy who pokes fun at the sorceror to
which he's supposed to be apprenticed 16.
We do know that after having seen Pelléas (in the
spring of 1902), Satie was impressed to the point of wanting to start
over at square one17.
Confronted with the most moving of masterpieces, all joking
literally aside, this could also explain why Geneviève
never came out of its box.
All thought of an impossible confrontation between a grand opera and
incidental music of minuscule proportions aside, this score deserves
better than the grudging attention its author seemed to have given
it. Conceived just as Satie was about to leave "kneeling
music" behind for a new interest in popular music (he would
become a hired assistant of the songwriter Vincent Hyspa and of the
"queen of the slow waltz," Paulette Darty), it vacillates
calmly between plainchant and operetta, with a most pleasant
contrasting effect. Even more remarkable is its deliberately extreme
economy. The four variations on the same theme which make up the
prelude reappear separately throughout the piece in the form of
intermezzos. And just to make sure we understand it is time to leave
the magic of the theater behind and return to our senses, the
composer only needs to put a short, brusque interruption in the final
chorus, at the very moment when the text explains that "it's all over-ver-ver,
all over now".
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Geneviève
de Brabant premiered on May 17, 1926, for the sixtieth
anniversary of Erik Satie's birth, at the Théâtre des
Champs-Elysées, which had just become an "Opera/Music
Hall", conducted by Daven and directed by Rolf de Maré18.
This performance took place, a year after the death of the composer,
during a Festival organized, in tribute to Satie's memory, by the
Comte Etienne de Beaumont19.
On that evening, the name of Lord Cheminot didn't figure in the program or the posters. Looking for all the world like Patrice Contamine, he would disappear forever from the scene only a week later - and not just figuratively.
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![]() Marionette representing Geneviève de Brabant. Atelier Mascotte, 1926 (Photo Man Ray). |
Perhaps the length of the piece (under a half-hour, including all
spoken interpolations) and the fact that it still required a certain
number of actors, was not an exact fit for an essentially musical
Festival, designed with great variety in mind. It could only be that
this score of less than ten minutes was structured enough to hold its
own. "Make it snappy" - wasn't this the only advice Satie
ever really consented to give? The very real and material
difficulties of life between the wars gave rise, in one stroke and
because of (or even in spite of) Satie's intentions, to the
"minute opera.".
Neither Lord Cheminot nor Erik Satie gave the slightest instruction as to the performance of their piece. Only one detail of the dialogue ("the mob cries out as if it were made of cardboard" ) could lead us to believe that Genevieve, as well as Uspud, was written for the shadow-plays of Montmarte20. Neither Lord Chemimot nor Satie ever indicated that this piece was even written for marionettes - even though a taste for this genre was in the air at the turn of the century (one only needs to recall Alfred Jarry's Théâtre des Pantins) - and that the legend of Geneviève was a common theme in ordinary puppetshows - magic lantern shows, too21. If the Comte de Beaumont had marionettes in mind, it was because he had seen, several years earlier, the premiere of the Retablo de Maese Pedro by Manuel de Falla, at the salon of Princesse Edmond de Polignac22. The sets and marionettes used in this performance were the creation of the Spanish painter Manuel-Angelès Ortiz. Being only natural that Beaumont should appeal to Ortiz for the set design and marionettes for Geneviève, the latter were built, like those of the Retablo, by Madame T. Lazarskï's Maison Mascotte ("Decorative dolls, cotillion dolls and mascots for Automobiles")23. All this was done behind the back of André Derain who, having sought in vain during Satie's lifetime to participate in the production of one of his works, had already prepared sketches for Geneviève de Brabant, left to gather dust ever since24. For puppeteers, Beaumont hired the famous Waltons. For the voices of Geneviève and Golo, he requested the services of Jane Bathori and baritone Roger Bourdin from the Opéra-Comique. Roger Désormière - who had been a member of the "Ecole d'Arcueil," founded under Satie's aegis, and who had conducted his last ballets25 was given the task of orchestrating Geneviève and conducting its premiere. Only the problem of introducing and tying together the various musical fragments remained; Satie seemed to have foreseen the need for interpolations in an otherwise highly compressed plot structure. Lucien Daudet wrote three short, vaguely humorous poems which the actor Edouard Ferras would read, as a sort of prologue, at the beginning of each act. This performance was such a great success that any other means of presenting Geneviève de Brabant became unthinkable - to the point that this work of Erik Satie has been classified in all catalogues as an "opera for marionettes" ever since. What's more, when Adolph Bolm took it on himself to use this score (probably in a transcription for orchestra alone) for a ballet to be performed in Chicago and Buenos Aires, he left out all references to the poor duchess and simply called his choreography "Marionettes' Ball"26. In 1929, with the permission of the composer's estate, Roger Désormière signed over his orchestration of Geneviève to Universal of Vienna, as well as Satie's piano score, in his own fair copy. Not having Lord Cheminot's play at his disposal, Désormière might not have been aware of its existence, and Universal completed its edition with a Canticle in honor of St. Geneviève, taken from an "image" by Epinal from the nineteenth century27. Showing the duchess dressed in rags in the middle of a forest, her baby in her arms and the doe at her feet, millions of these "images" had been distributed at county fairs and parish churches during the previous century, to be sung to the tune of "Due devant nous tout s'abaisse et tout tremble" from Lully's Atys28. This tragic air of twenty-nine verses gives a tearful version of the story (Geneviève dies, only to be followed in death by the kind little doe) which couldn't be further from the intentions of Satie and Lord Cheminot, clearly visible in the text of their own arias.
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Universal failed to indicate a source for the "Complainte,"
just as it also did not credit the author of the texts which Satie
set to music. Just the same, perhaps taking Satie's first biographer
(P.D. Templier) at his word, all subsequent performances and
recordings credited the libretto of Geneviève de Brabant
to "J.P. Contamine de Latour"29.
As a result, commentators regularly attributed to him even the
Cantique which used to be sung, in the nineteenth century, on an air
by Lully.
Lord Cheminot's original script (let the author keep the pseudonymn he chose for the occasion) has been found, in the course of our research, in the archives of the Comte Etienne de Beaumont.
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![]() André Derain, costume sketch for Geneviève de Brabant by Erik Satie, 1926. (Bibliothèque Littéraire Jacques Doucet) |
This work has been performed, for the first time in Satie's original
version for piano and voice, by the Théâtre
Universitaire de Clermont-Ferrand, "Yellow Dogs," directed
by Pierre Lagueiniere. Leaving aside the nickname of the theater,
whose flair for artistic discoveries could only complement that of
the man who first imagined "a play for dogs", this was
still its first performance by real people, with flesh and bones.
Geneviève de Brabant, text by Lord Cheminot, was next performed, in Italian, by the puppet theater troupe Monti-Colla of Milan, at La Fenice in Venice, under the direction of Italo Gomez, in April 198330.
The French text was published by Universal as an annex to its latest
edition of the piano score, in 1986.
GNOSSIENNES
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![]() Le Coeur, October 6-7, 1893, p. 12.
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We have therefore resolved, in agreement with Our conscience and
confident in the mercy of God, to erect in the metropolis of this
Frankish nation, which has gloried in the title of Eldest Daughter of the Church
these many centuries past, a Temple worthy of Our Savior, conductor and
redeemer of all peoples; We shall make of it a refuge where catholicity
and the Arts, which are irrevocably bound together, will grow and prosper
under shelter from all profanation and in the total expansion of their
purity, which all the efforts of Evil will not tarnish.
1889. (Fifth) Gnossienne, dated "July 8, 1889" in
the ms10.After long reflection, We have given to this harbor of revived Faith the name L'église Métropolitaine de l'Art, and have placed it under the divine invocation of Jésus Conducteur. The first, invaluable testimonials of affectionate gratitude and Christian approbation that a great number of Our brothers have deigned to offer have instilled in Our heart at once an ineffable joy and a fortifying seed of courage to resist the pitfalls which Hell may raise before Us. We implore you therefore, my Brothers, in the name of the Salvation of Humanity, as of our own salvation, to join with Us for the triumph of Our Holy Mother Church, by the purification of Faith and the Arts, which are but one of the pathways by which Providence calls us to Herself, and We kiss You in the Peace and Fraternity of Jesus Christ Our Lord. Erik Satie Given in Paris, in October 1893, the 13th.
Ten years before submitting his collection to Rouart, Lerolle & Cie,
Satie had published the Gnossienne no. 2 in Le Coeur,
no. 6-7, September-October 1893, under the title 6th Gnossienne.
This score, reproduced in facsimile, is dated "April of
'93" and dedicated "to Antoine de La Rochefoucauld".
It already shows the whimsical performance instructions which would
later appear in the Rouart, Lerolle edition. In that same year, Satie
would publish two other Gnossiennes in Le Figaro musical,
no. 24, September 1893, in the "Musical Varieties and
Curiosities" section, under the titles of Gnossienne no. 1
and Gnossienne no. 2. These pieces are not dated and carry no
particular playing instructions or dedications. They would later be
reproduced - this time with playing instructions - in the 1913
collection, as Gnossienne no. 1 and Gnossienne no. 3.
In his otherwise admirable study of Satie's piano music, Jean-Joël
Barbier affirms that the Three Gnossiennes form a coherent
whole and that as a result, one should distinguish them in
performance very distinctly from three other pieces of the same title6.
Perhaps this was a geniune insight, a recommendation that performers
should respect; just the same, the history of these works in print
shows that Satie didn't originally set out to write a triptych. It is
also reasonable that for practical purposes he had Rouart, Lerolle
publish only the Gnossiennes which had already seen print.
An analysis of galley proofs on the first Rouant, Lerolle edition7
show that, in its original state, only the Gnossienne no. 3
(called "no. 2," remember, in Le Figaro musical)
bore the date "1890", and only the Gnossienne no. 2
(called 6th Gnossienne in Le Coeur)
include personalized playing instructions. Those which figure in the
Rouant, Lerolle edition of the Gnossiennes no. 1 and no. 3,
were evidently added at the end of 1912 on a second set of galleys,
now lost.
Which means, clearly, that we would be mistaken - and a widespread
mistake it is - to assign the date "1890" to Satie's first
use of fanciful playing instructions, and that we also mistakenly
attribute this date to three Gnossiennes taken individually,
under the pretext that Satie so dated the collection as a whole8.
As far as instructions - inasmuch as they are unique to our composer
- are concerned, it is reasonably safe to assume that they made their
first appearance in April 1893, during composition of the 6th Gnossienne,
now known as Gnossienne no. 29.
As for the exact chronology of the seven Gnossiennes composed
by Satie, we will try to determine it here, based on the information
at our disposal:
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![]() Erik Satie, Sketch of an orchestration for a Gnossienne (ca 1890). (Harvard Univ., The Houghton Library) |
With Aldo Ciccolini's latest recording of Erik Satie's complete piano works, EMI has followed my chronology, at least for the six Gnossiennes published to date14. We can also follow, step by step, the evolution of the one form recognizable in Satie as an obsession - the term is Jankélévitch's15 - at several stages and over the course of years.
LA BELLE EXCENTRIQUE
Grande Ritournelle / I As a result, these four pieces have been performed - and necessarily danced - in the above order for decades3.
Analysis of Satie's sketchbooks4,
his copyright declaration to SACEM5
and his correspondance6
has established that La Belle Excentrique really has only
three parts:
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For example, the fact that (in Le Coq parisien),
it was announced that Mademoiselle Caryathis had worn, for this
dance composed especially for her, "three" costumes
designed by Nicole Groult7.
Also the tale of "Jean Hugo's first failure in his costume-making
career," which had to do with "three" costumes he'd
imagined for La Belle Excentrique, and that Satie had
categorically refused8.
All this plainly shows that this work, rather than a dance, should
be considered as a series of dances, which explains all the costume
changes. The "Grande Ritournelle," written to fill the gaps
left by these costume changes, is the only piece not to be danced.
One can find the original running order in Aldo Ciccolini's lastest
recording of Erik Satie's complete piano works9.
Max Eschig has also prepared a corrected edition.
SPORTS & DIVERTISSEMENTS
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Indicated as a "work in progress" in the catalogue established by Roland-Manuel in 19162, Sports & Divertissements was described as unpublished in the program of a private recital, which also included a performance of Socrate (1919)3. An unpublished letter, from Lucien Vogel to M. Hepp, director of Rouart, Lerolle & Cie, dated March 6, 1926, written to confirm Vogel's ceding of publishing rights to the latter, confirms that as of February 1923 it still hadn't appeared: "The publication of Sports & Divertissements", wrote Lucien Vogel, "was an undertaking of my first company (under commission), Lucien Vogel & Cie (...). I paid Erik Satie 150 francs per piece, if memory serves, for the manuscript and all subsequent rights to the same. "The company of Lucien Vogel & Cie was dissolved after the death of my partner, Emile Lévy, in 1916 (liquidator: Mr Gant, 16 rue de l'Arcade). The work in progress at the time, composed of engraved two-color music plates in reproduction of the manuscript, with original drawings by Charles Martin, was eventually sold to Mr Maynial. In 1922, I made an agreement with Mr Maynial, as head of my new company, 'Les Editions Lucien Vogel et du Bon Ton' to repurchase the rights to this piece (see my letter to Maynial, March 14, 1922). At the very moment that we announced a new edition, substituting newer drawings for the old, drawn by Charles Martin as well, the publishers La Sirène intervened to assert their so-called 'exclusive rights' to publication of all works by Erik Satie (see letters from La Sirène: January 22 and 29, 1923 & February 27, 1923, and my own letters from January 25 and February 5, 16 and 22, 1923). Mr Gant is my witness in this case (...)"4. The disagreement with La Sirène mentioned in the letter above seems to have been resolved not long after, because Satie's exclusive four-year contract with the publishers was not signed until January 6, 1920, six years after his original contract with Vogel5. Since Paul Collaer's catalogue, published in March 1924, indicates that Sports & Divertissements was treated to a "deluxe edition (L. Vogel)"6, we are confident in dating the work's publication to 1923. ![]() Charles Martin, Le Water-Chute, 1914.
"(...) The preparation with Vogel and Maynial of a large album, Sports & Divertissements, in which twenty plates were to accompany Erik Satie's music, indicates a Martin willing to follow the most arcane procedures. The lines of his compositions are etched with acid - not by his own hand, true - but he has ample evidence as to how this enhances his precise and painstaking graphic art. The copper etchings are finished, all is ready, when war breaks out (...). The war over with, Charles Martin retrieves his finished plates for Sports & Divertissements; but time has passed swiftly; new ideas, germinating since before 1914, have won new hearts and minds: his compositions seem dated, all is to be redone, and he sets to work while succumbing to the influence of cubism (...). It is amusing to compare the first version of Sports & Divertissements with the second: it can be done with one special edition, published by Maynial in only ten copies and containing both series. Despite certain appearances it's not readily apparent that cubist theory had completely expropriated the artist's more traditional ideas. Rather our attention is drawn to another important element, which is his human sensibility. Cubism has done a useful and necessary cleaning job, Martin would say, but it should be admitted that, from purification to purification, one eventually hits a wall which obliges an about-face and a return to classical conceptions. We have profited all the same, on the way back, from what this theoretical period has taught us (...)'8. These reflections of Charles Martin belong, obviously, to just such a time of "return." The date on the definitive version of his illustrations - 1922 - leads, in any case, to a new interpretation of their extraordinary harmony with Satie's calligraphied plates. Far from comprising - as has commonly been believed - a kind of homage (or at least proof of the composer's esthetic adhering to that of the painter) such harmony seems rather the result of a fascination the painter felt toward the graphic layout of the scores, all the more exceptional at that time. Given the absence of all correlation between the situations treated by the illustrator and those described in the "instructions" written between the staves9, these two artists must have worked separately and without any collaboration; at the very least Satie must not have been aware of the first version before completing his work. Didn't he dream of one day scoring whole ballets, conceived in silence?10. He would come to realize this dream at least once - unheard-of at the time as well - by composing a score for René Clair's 1924 film "Entr'acte"11. Thanks to a collector, we can now compare the 1914 illustrations to those of 192212. Below are the two variations as well as Erik Satie's score for "Water-Chute": note how the 1914 picture could very well have inspired Satie's text13, while the 1922 drawing suggests the opposite, a sort of imitation in its play of curved lines; a visual effect parallel to that which the composer often associated with his sound.
![]() Erik SATIE, score of the Choral inappétisant and sketch for Sports et Divertissements, 1914. Autograph manuscript. (Henri Sauget Collection)
If Vogel had chosen "sports" as the theme of his album, it may have been to capitalize on a newly-developed craze for sporting activities, which offered a varied but unified set of situations. As for the "divertissements" which complete the panoply of distractions favored by the Gazette du Bon Ton's female readers, remember that Sports & Divertissements was also a rubric traditionally used in tourist brochures from Deauville and other beaches in Normandy. Either way, the choice of subject had to precede the choice of composer. We know that Vogel originally had Stravinsky in mind (a rising star after the "succès-scandale" of the Sacre du Printemps in 1913) and it was only after the latter had turned him down that he appealed to Satie, on the advice of a woman who worked on his staff as a designer: Valentine Gross, later to be Valentine Hugo. Of course it's still possible that our composer was responsible for at least one of the titles in that collection, namely the "Flirt", malicious as it might seem. Certainly this title has left more than one reader perplexed as to its authors' intentions: did they consider flirting a sport? Or rather a diversion? It may not be pointless to recall that on May 15, 1913, the Ballets Russes had just premiered the first ballet in which the plot makes allusions to sporting activities: Jeux by Debussy. In this case, it was a tennis match that quickly grew into romantic competition - a sort of game, both of love and of chance, but also a three-way "flirt", if you will. It seems that Satie first thought of calling the album Jeux et Divertissements. At least this was its title in Roland-Manuel's catalog (1916), which announced its appearance "aux éditions de La Gazette du Bon Ton". As legend has it, Stravinsky had refused Vogel's commission because his sum appeared insufficient, while Satie had also begun by refusing the sum offered him (and which had to be less than the one Stravinsky refused), for being too high. If this little anecdote squares with Satie's beliefs and his repugnance at mixing the greed of the marketplace with the work of artists, it may not quite square with the truth. A second version, more credible, made its way around certain circles close to the composer in which Satie had a falling-out with Roland-Manuel (who advised him to ask the editor for a certain sum - "hardly agreeable" in Satie's opinion), upbraiding Roland-Manuel for trying to push him into excessive pretentions which could make him lose the commission altogther.
According to notes preserved in his sketchbooks, Satie delivered his
twenty-one pieces in seven groups of three, drawing a corresponding
portion of his fees each time14.
In Lucien Vogel's letter to Rouart, Lerolle & Cie
mentioned above, the agreed-on price would have been 150 francs per
piece (composition and calligraphy included), or 3,150 francs. It is
possible that the plate bearing the "Préface" and
the "Choral inappétissant", unforeseen to begin
with, didn't figure in this total; in his biography of Cocteau,
Steegmuller asserts that Vogel paid Satie during the winter of
1924-25 - thanks to Valentine Gross's intervention - the sum of 3,000
francs, which would have been "the highest he had ever received
up to then"15. In fact,
Steegmuller describes it as payment for "three songs for La
Gazette du Bon Ton," but he could be mistaken16.
The author provides no source for this information but alludes
further on to his conversations with Valentine Hugo. The latter held
fast to an idea of herself as Satie's benefactress, even to the end
of her life, so she could well be indulging in selective memory - the
same kind she has exercised before on the subject of Satie and
Cocteau's first meeting (which she had in fact brought about)17.
![]() Charles MARTIN, Le Pique-Nique (1914). (Private collection)
Valentine Hugo has confirmed that she had introduced Satie to Lucien Vogel,
for Sports & Divertissements, in a letter she addressed to
François Lesure during preparations for an Erik Satie exhibit
at the Bibliothèque Nationale in 1966. In this same letter18,
she claims to have followed this edition closely and even corrected
a number of printing errors.According to a rough draft from 1914, Satie had a specific running order in mind for his twenty-one pieces, different from that used by the editor, and followed by all performers since. All, that is, except Marcelle Meyer who - no doubt with the blessing of the composer to whom she was very close - gave one of the first performances of this collection in yet a different order 19.
Erik Satie by Igor Stravinsky SPORTS & DIVERTISSEMENTS
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USPUD
With the sole exception of its dedication "to the Most High, Luminous and Permanent Indivisibility of the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity", this booklet has the unique characteristic, as has been shown a number of times, to be printed exclusively in lower case - for the first time in the history of typography, as near as we can determine. Satie would later publish the four musical fragments of Uspud, this time minus libretto, in an even smaller booklet, which also includes a reproduction of his letter to Alexandre Natanson, dated April 19, 1895, which could therefore be contemporaneous or after5.
R. Casas, Erik Satie, December 1890, Both of these booklets featured a medallion drawn in charcoal by Suzanne Valadon, in "1892-1893"6, the only difference being that the artist's signature was erased in the 1895 version - Satie perhaps wishing to indicate the definitive break of his "liaison d'amour" with Suzanne Valadon. The first booklet was published at the same time as his affair - between January 14 and June 20, 1893, if we take Satie himself at his word7. Three successive versions of the Uspud libretto have been discovered to date, of which the latest was published in 1893; both earlier versions remain in manuscript form. In both cases, the text was inserted piecemeal into the score, perhaps to draw some kind of connection between the music and the dramatic action. His bold style also suggests a text meant to be read aloud, alternating perhaps with each musical phrase. The fact that both manuscripts are in Satie's hand is not itself proof enough to bestow fatherhood for the text on the composer, whose affinity for monkish labor is well-known8. As for Uspud, in any case, we know from Contamine that the libretto - signed by him alone - was the fruit of his collaboration with Satie9. So it may only have been because of his wish for a sort of balance in the finished results, maybe a kind of literary shyness as well10, that the composer only signed the score. The first manuscript of Uspud - the oldest - is dated November 17, 189211. The authors defined this date as "the 72nd of the works of hermetic consolation". One could wonder forever about this little formula, as hermetic as the consolations promised by its works. It may be enough to remember that, in occult numerology, 72 is considered "the symbol of solidarity in multiplicity"12.
In its first version, the libretto contains the most varied of
interpolations, many of which are in Contamine's handwriting. Several
years later, Satie would offer it to his friend Ernest Legrand, a
most exotic and secretive composer, who ended up destroying most of
his own work13. Toward the end of
his life, Legrand donated the manuscript in turn to a composer we
have yet to identify14, who finally
bestowed it on its current owner. Thanks to the latter's gracious
cooperation, we are now able to reproduce it completely, for the
first time, all interpolations and repetitions included15.
We will, however, refrain from transcribing the score itself, which
is virtually identical to the posthumous Salabert edition, based as
it is on the second manuscript of Uspud16.
The latter was prepared in the greatest possible haste, on the night
of December 16-17, 1892, our two accomplices suddenly having to give
a "human shape17 to their
work" for their imminent interview with the director of the Opéra. ![]() Erik SATIE, Uspud, fragment of Act III, 1892 (publ. 1893, excerpt) (Archives de la Fondation Erik Satie), click to enlarge The third version was prepared - several weeks or months later - in the course of an 1893 edition. More condensed than ever, it can be found in Rollo Myers' biography18. To set these three versions side-by-side shows that, here as elsewhere, to revise any text (his own or another author's) Satie always proceeded by elimination, tightening, slimming down. The greatest result of this procedure at work would be the libretto of his "symphonic drama" Socrate which he realized by "suppressing" words, paragraphs, chapters, even whole Dialogues, in the works of Plato19.
As Contamine tells it, Satie began by playing Uspud at the
Auberge du Clou, the artists' cabaret at the foot of Montmartre,
where he was employed as "second pianist". Only Debussy, a
regular himself, took the work seriously20.
To silence all this joking and laughter, Satie threatened to have it
staged at the Opéra. After a hilarious run of menacing
letters and challenges to a duel, he would succeed less than a month
later in gaining an audience, for himself and Contamine, with
Eugène Bertrand, director of the Théâtre
National. Already satisfied with this crazy exploit, he settled for
the vaguest of promises21. The
great irony was that, after a long period of obscurity, it was a
successor of Eugène Bertrand (Rolf Liebermann) who took the
initiative to premiere Uspud - if not at the Opéra,
then at least at the Opéra-Comique. All of this coming to
pass, obviously, several decades later than Satie's darkest
predictions to anyone on the fate of his piece.22 Erik Satie's mixups with Mr Bertrand have a hallowed place in the annals of "montmartrois" jokemongering, sometimes with a few spicy variations23. Apart from the anecdote itself, the choice of two performance spaces as widely separated as the Auberge du Clou and the Opéra (to put it as mildly as possible) raises more questions than it answers. It's easy to attribute this choice to the attutude of systematic irreverence that Satie attached to official institutions throughout his life, the fact remains that in the case of his own works, he was never outright irrational. In fact, not one of his compositions seem destined for a well-defined listener, to the point of seeming that a framework of any kind, as long as it proved constraining, was indispensable for him to express himself 24. A. Grass-Mick, portraits of Satie and Debussy, Also, instead of reading this assault on the Opéra as simple bravado, we tend to believe that Satie really thought he stood a chance to be heard in this presitigious place. Not in the same way as at the Clou, obviously. Let's see what could have brought Uspud to the Auberge du Clou in the first place. In the 9th arrondissement of Paris in the avenue Trudaine, not far from the buildings which once housed the Divan Japonais and the Chat Noir, one can still frequent today this mythical place which has kept its name, even its original address. On the ground floor, there's room for just the counter and a few tables. A hall on the second floor, however, is spacious enough for the piano which once accompanied the chansonniers, the main attraction in this neighborhood. As for the basement, now mostly taken up by "la cave du patron", on can still make out, here and there, traces of original frescos painted by Georges de Feure25 . The presence of these paintings suggests that this cellar was once put to better use. Throughout 1892, for example, the Catalan writer, painter and art critic Miguel Utrillo has installed a "Théâtre d'Ombres chinoises" in this room, modelled on that of the Chat Noir26.
At this time, Utrillo was romantically involved with Suzanne Valadon,
having accepted paternity of her seven-year-old son Maurice in 189127
.
In spite of other hypotheses formulated from time to time (without
proof) of just what brought Satie and Valadon together, the most
plausible is that Utrillo had provoked it himself28
.
It wouldn't even be stretching the truth to say that the decisive
spark was produced at the very same Auberge du Clou where, not long
before the start of his affair with Suzanne, Satie had composed a
"Noël" on words by Vincent Hyspa for Utrillo's shadow plays29
and that, soon after breaking forever with Suzanne, the latter left Paris entirely30. It was most likely Satie who provided keyboard accompaniment for the shadow-plays at the Clou. The title "second pianist" they blessed him with could mean simply his use of the "second" house piano, the one in the basement. A piano, or more likely a harmonium, because it was this type of instrument which accompanied the "ombres" at the Chat Noir. For one of the shows at this cabaret, La Marche à l'Etoile, Satie had shared the role of organist with Georges Fragerolle31. The fact that Utrillo had use of a harmonium for his plays is even more probable, since just such an instrument had sat for a number of years in the various lodgings of Rusiñol and Casas, two other Catalan painters, then fixtures at the Moulin de la Galette. Writing in a Barcelona newspaper about their party on St. Sylvester's Day 1890, Rusiñol described how this old carcass, apparently fit only for the roadshow, suddenly produced the most exquisite sounds, under the fingers of a "musico griego", a nickname indicating none other than Erik Satie, composer - so it was said - of "armonia griega"32. It may be useful to remember here that Patrick Gowers has demonstrated the rigorous use, in Uspud, of a melodic mode based on the chromatic scale of ancient Greece33. It's often been said that the libretto of Uspud (of which the outrageously stark and lyrical style is in deliberate contrast to any "imperturbable" music) sounds suspiciously like a parody of Flaubert's Tentation de saint Antoine, of which he even quotes certain elements, point by point. That this work was, as Contamine tells it, Erik Satie's bedside reading at the time is no contradiction, our composer having often practiced that exercise, salutary against the dangers of fanaticism, which consists of mocking precisely those things we hold most dear. We also know that Satie's discovery of the shadow-play took place at the Chat Noir, on the occasion of a "féerie à grand spectacle" La Tentation de saint Antoine, a discovery that, according to his brother, made quite a strong impression34. At the beginning of his career at the Clou, Utrillo had also staged an adaptation of this work by Flaubert, an adaptation which was, contrary to the one before, a flat-out comedy. Prefiguring the finale of "Simon du Désert" by Buñuel, Miguel Utrillo's hermit, instead of fleeing the Devil (incarnated as an Epicurean philosopher), chose to follow him - after having thrown his frock into the brambles35. All of which leads us to believe that this nth variation of La Tentation which is Uspud could well have been conceived directly for the Ombres as well. At least this would explain certains peculiarities in the setting (beginning with a single character, surrounded by numerous apparitions), not to mention the speechifying style of the text. It would also explain those summary allusions to flutes and harps which show up in the score for keyboard and could refer, as Andrew Thomson pointed out, to the flute and harp stops on a harmonium36. This would also explain its first performance at the Clou, home at the time to the only "Théâtre d'Ombres" in Paris besides the one at the Chat Noir at which Satie, angry at Rodolphe Salis, would never show his face again. But how does one reconcile these conclusions with Uspud's being presented to (not to mention at) the Opéra, where shadow-plays certainly never had pride of place? It's possible that, from the beginning, Satie had dreamed of this alternate solution which alone would justify, in our view, the quality of "ballet" attributed, from the very first manuscript, to a scenario with one single character and music that, among all of Satie's scores, is probably the least apt to be danced. In effect, in February 1891, a "ballet à grand spectacle" based on La Tentation de saint Antoine (libretto by Jaine and G. Duval, music by G. Auvray) had been performed at the Théâtre Lyrique, formerly the Eden Théâtre37. The director of this establishment, from 1891 until his nomination as chief of the Théâtre National de l'Opéra, was Eugène Bertrand himself.
Miguel Utrillo and Eugène Bertrand - both of them theatrical
directors, after all - had recently shown an interest, independent of
each other, for plays inspired by Scripture. Could this not have been
enough to give a couple of young autuers some crazy ideas -
passionate as they were for these very same subjects and impatient to
make it known? ![]() Henri Rivière, Le Sabbat, in La Tentation de Saint Antoine, 1887. Théâtre du Chat Noir. Ed. Plon, Nourrit et Cie.
The following text is written in red and black ink in a forty-six-page notebook of ruled paper, 16 x 25 cm, paper cover with green crosshatching made by Lard-Esnault, Papeterie-Reliure "founded in 1795", and purchased at H. Lard, 25 rue Feydeau, Paris, where Satie at one time purchased all his music supplies. The "Several Testimonials" were written out on three sheets of (unruled) white paper later glued into the notebook, no doubt by the authors. The manuscript is entirely in Erik Satie's hand, except for the two letters addressed "to Erik Satie" and "to his Enemies...", respectively, by Contamine de Latour, as well as numerous signatures by the latter. Most of the text is written in red ink. Words represented here in bold characters were written in black. Each fragment of the score is represented by ellipses (...). Music was originally notated in black, except for the treble clefs, which were drawn in red. The title makes use of a particular graphic style which Satie would reuse in the manuscript of the Danses gothiques (March 1893) in which the letters were double-traced in black, with the spaces between each trace filled with a series of small diagonals in red ink. Also worth noting are the signatures of the two authors; Contamine's is followed by a single cross, Satie's by two crosses. This manuscript is the only one in which the two crosses added to Satie's signature are not connected. In several documents, all written after Uspud (between 1893 and 1900), this symbol is replaced by two connected crosses - one Greek, the other Latin.
November '92
True and accepted genealogical descent of the family of Uspud.
Irnebizolle, sister of Uspud; Jindebude, mother of Saint Plan;
To the Most High, Permanent and Luminous Indivisibility of the Three
Persons of the Holy Trinity
Lutèce, on this 17th day of a gray November, in 1800 and 92
My Most-Beloved Friend; In spite of these evils of winter, I bring to you Uspud, this mystical and half-Christian ballet, object of your most pure desires; this because you are my brother in humanity, and that nothing having to do with the Regeneration of Intelligence is alien to me, inasmuch as I have been initiated by yourself. Uspud is not a psychological fact, nor even an immaterial one; but only the pale reflections of those souls released from a terrible Burden and whose thirst for love, conquered by the purification of the senses through pain, makes them altogether indifferent to worldly things; as such, it motivates and makes manifest the most intense expression of moral heroism, and is above all here below who bear witness to it. I look for neither approval nor criticism; but only the inner Peace which gives me the idea on which it feeds; and for this reason wishes only about me peace, reflection, silence, and for you the sanctification of the Blessed or of Eternity.
And, with Respect, Deference and Veneration, call you "tu":
Uspud
Very rich young pagan; a young man most handsome and prized in
ancient high society. Spiritualités
Our Holy Mother Church, Jesus crucified, Cherubim, Virgins, Thrones,
Powers & Dominations, etc.; invisible wings; Flaming
Comet-Trails; Stars; assorted Trees & various Animals; Phenomena
and elements of nature. Paris, 17th day of the month of November of '92
friendly Theme of Superiority and Certitude
After having told me to walk during the Fifty-two Red Months, you left me while gazing upon me with your eyes turned inwards1. And, just as you had announced to me, my right hand brings forth sound and my head has acquired a sensitivity it did not have before; joy is also on my clothing and in my food. I owe to you, Immense Benefactor, after having seen the Swollen2 stretch out their arms which no longer had any hair; and thus is my Penetration broken, which is an unforgettable Pride. I collect and abase myself before your Sacriligious Song.
And with respect, deference and veneration call you: Erik Satie + +
1As a sign of deep meditation.
2Represents the Pretentious of the world.
Uspud by J.P. Contamine de Latour music by Erik Satie
Act One (...) A desert. Statues, on enormous pedestals, arranged in a half-circle. In the middle, a table with the leftovers from a feast. To the side, a barrel, the interior of which is studded with nails. In the distance, cadavers and assorted human bones. Uspud appears at the base of the desert, playing osselets with tibias. (...)
He crushes the tibias The rising smoke changes into the wings of Cherubs which tremble in the air; Uspud falls stricken; (...) he buries his face in his hands and reflects deeply. (...)
Aerial saltation of young girls, robed in white and carrying lyres.
Suddenly the sky turns white. A woman of great beauty and transparent
as crystal rises up before Uspud. She is the Christian Church; she
removes her black cape and appears robed in a golden tunic.
Uspud, astonished, takes some sand and rubs his eyes with it.
Then he throws stones at the vision. The stones become globes of fire
which explode violently; the last and largest trails flames behind it.
At the same time an enormous clap of thunder is heard; the statues
fall, their jaws working open and shut.
A volcano erupts in place of the banquet table, and its crater shoots
out stars.
Uspud falls senseless !
When he awakes, his beard has grown and his hair has turned white. End of Act One
Saint Chassebaigre, the ingrate;
the blessed Melou, l'estropié;
Dedication to the Powerful and Superhuman faith, in Jesus our divine Master, of the Twelve Apostles including Judas, before his deplorable betrayal
J.P. Contamine de Latour + Several testimonials on the quality, usefulness and shining truth contained in this work, as expressed by the spirits of many competent judges from the Hereafter (three hermetic magicians having turned the tables):
Carolus Linnaeus, naturalist
These testimonials, of extremely high value, were obtained by
means of extraordinarily heavy tables.
Act Two Same setting. Uspud in a yellow robe and turban. Uspud reflects deeply on his paganism. He tries to worship the statues, but they change shape and and take on the heads of a dog, jackal, turtle, goat, fish, lynx, tiger, wolf, ox, seagull, unicorn, sheep, antelope, ant, spider, gnu, snake, agouti, a blue billygoat, baboon, cuckoo, crab, albatross, ostrich, mole, secretary bird, an old bull, a red caterpillar, boar, crocodile and buffalo.
Uspud tries to flee, but is surrounded by a circle of black dogs,
each with an enormous golden horn on its forehead, which howl and
tremble as they circle him.
Uspud, frightened, tries to kill himself by leaping into the barrel;
the barrel explodes and then reforms as soon as he turns away. He
addresses a prayer to the statues of the gods, which take the form of
trees and other plants: myrrh, lotus, gum tree, cedar, coconut tree,
aloe, palm, oak, etc. Rain begins to fall: fetid lakes appear on the ground, and the vapors they release form hideous flying frogs. In the distance we see the glow of a great fire.
An enormous tempest is unleashed; mountains of petrified sand erupt,
great chasms appear, caves open in the earth. The statues fall with a
hellish noise. Uspud annihilated calls on Heaven.
The Christian Church appears, and the dogs flee, howling: crucifixes
fly through the air between bolts of lightning; in the sky Uspud sees
a vision of a pagan tribunal: arrows, execution blocks, racks,
hatchets, red-hot pokers and other instruments of torture all covered
with blood :
He weeps blood, for all the chopped heads and shreds of burned flesh,
for a long time.
The Christian Church expands immeasurably and becomes more transparent;
as she fades away, she reaches out to Uspud, and the vapors and
visions give way to an intense clarity.
An enormous Christ rises from the earth and ascends into Heaven, at
the same time as the Church. When they have disappeared, we hear the
choirs of angels, archangels, cherubs, Powers, Thrones and
Dominations, and the Blessed singing a hymn.
Little by little the light dims, the daylight takes on its usual
brightness. Uspud, alone among the debris of statues and vessels,
raises his arms to Heaven with an ecstatic grin;
then he falls, face forward, and tears his yellow robe, under which
we see a camel-hair shirt. He tears at his beard as he shouts with all his might:
I am a Christian !
End of Act Two
Abridged from the De Profundis Prayer for the departed before Act Three J.P. Contamine de Latour + Erik Satie + +
To the Conservatoire National de Musique et de Déclamation
Individual Theme of Liturgical Chastity
My child, I have entered into your classrooms; my Spirit was so gentle that you could not have understood me; and my behavior amazed the flowers; because they thought they were seeing the Artificial Zebra1. And despite my extreme youth & my delicious Agility, by your ignorance you have made me despise the vulgar Art which you teach; by your inexplicable hardness, you have long made me mistrust you. Now that All Exterior Vegetation2 is in Me, I absolve you of your sins toward me; pray the Lord that he forgives you; bless the unfortunate Souls which you will educate until the day when the Capital Force will tear them from your profane hands and entrust them to the Seraphim of the Virgin Mary. I have spoken. Erik Satie + +
1Taken as the true place of a sympathetic being.
2This indicates my great sensitivity for the things of Nature. Dedication
To the Dissecting, Immobile and Preparatory
J.P. Contamine de Latour to his Repugnant and Goiterous Enemies
I repudiate you, as On High, as were the Rebellious.
Act Three Same decor minus props - except the barrel. Uspud is prostrate before a crucifix.
For a long time he remains immobile.
Suddenly, he rises, untangles his hair, tears the hem of his robe,
and plunges the scrap of fabric into the barrel; he removes it soaked
with water which he pours on his forehead, saying : I baptize myself in the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. His robe turns green.
Christ rises into the sky. Uspud stretches out his arms to Him.
A profound faith suffuses him : a mystical shining light spreads over
his face : he knows truth and happiness; he dances and claps his
hands; flaming comet trails spin around him.
He stops, seized with an unquenchable thirst for suffering.
A long procession of saints and saint-martyrs parades before him, in
the sky.
Saint Cléophème spits her teeth into her hand.
Saint Micanar tears at his cheeks; the Blessed Marcomir carries his
head under his arm; Saint Induciomare forces arrows into his legs. When the procession has disappeared, Uspud hears voices which call him to martyrdom, he sees visions of palms and crowns.
Seized with a frenzy cuts off his eyelids with sharp stones and lacerates his body. He suffers and is happy.
Agitated dance.
Uspud wishing for death, throws himself into the barrel studded with
nails and rolls about inside;
He climbs out horribly swollen and is chagrined to be still alive. A black dog, with a golden horn on her forehead passe, followed by pups with Negro features and horses' tails; Uspud takes the pups, tears them apart with his bare hands and waters the ground with their blood; the blades of swords grow on the spot and Uspud rolls on top of them. The black dog begins to howl.
Other dogs arrive with their offspring; they all throw themselves on
Uspud and tear him apart. Christ appears in the sky. We hear a
celestial music; and Uspud dies under the dogs' fangs, crying out :
"I am a martyr !" End of the Third and Final Act
Erik Satie + + J.P. Contamine de Latour +
Fidelium animae, per misericordiam Dei, requiescant in pace.
This work was completed to our great joy
the 72nd of the Works of Hermetic Consolation J.P. Contamine de Latour + Erik Satie + +
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