Born: October 1, 1865, Paris, France
Died: May 18, 1935, Paris, France
Paul Dukas spent his entire life in Paris as a greatly respected teacher and composer. He showed his musical aptitude early, teaching himself to play piano, and entered the Conservatoire in 1882, where he proved to be an excellent student, winning the second Prix de Rome in 1888. Although he had to abandon his formal training for a time to serve in the army, he turned that period to good use by studying many of the classical works of music, the basis upon which he later built his own compositions. (He later edited several volumes of works by Rameau, Beethoven, Couperin and Scarlatti.) After his stint in the military, he completed the overture Polyeucte, his first work to be performed publicly. The Symphony in C Major followed in 1896, and he gained international recognition a year later with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. Dukas held important positions throughout his life as an instructor at the Conservatoire and as a critic, and he was awarded the Legion of Honor in 1906. Stern self-criticism of his compositions led him to destroy all his unpublished manuscripts before his death, however, so his small musical legacy comprises only three overtures, a symphony, an opera (Ariane et Barbe-bleue), a ballet (La Péri), a half-dozen piano works (though one is a monumental, 45-minute sonata), a short Villanelle for horn, and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is based on Goethe’s 1796 ballad Der Zauberlehrling, which in turn was derived from the dialogues of the 2nd-century Greek satirist Lucian. The tale tells of a naive apprentice to a wizard who overhears the magic incantation used by his master to animate the household broom into a water-carrier. In the sorcerer’s absence, the neophyte tries the spell on the broom, and—to his delight—it works. The broom marches smartly between well and water basin until the latter is full, then overflowing, then flooding—the apprentice never bothered to learn the magic words to stop his wooden servant! Not knowing what to do, he axes the broom in half, only making matters worse—now there are two water-carriers instead of one. More chopping produces more brooms. Just before the novice drowns in his own mischief, the sorcerer returns and, with a sweep of his hand and a muttered word, quiets the tumult.
Dukas captured perfectly the fantastic spirit of this poem in his colorful tone poem. The quiet, mysterious strains of the beginning depict the wizard and his incantations, while the apprentice scurries about to lively phrases in the woodwinds. When the door slams behind the departing sorcerer (a loud whack on the timpani), the tyro is left in silence. A rumble in the low instruments signals the first stirring of the enchanted broom. The rumble becomes a galumphing accompaniment, over which the bassoons give out the main theme of the work. This melody, combined with a quicker version of the incantation theme and brass fanfares, is used to suggest the aquatic havoc being wrought in the wizard’s absence. At the height of the confusion, the magician bursts through the door (the mysterious music of the opening returns to indicate his presence), and he orders the flood to subside. When peace has been restored, the apprentice receives a swift boxing of the ears to end this jovial musical tale.
—Dr. Richard E. Rodda