“Daphnis et Chloé”: A Masterpiece Forged in Disagreement
Maurice Ravel’s “Daphnis et Chloé” is a shimmering, monumental masterpiece, but its creation was anything but serene. Behind the lush harmonies and explosive climaxes lies a chaotic tale of clashing egos, artistic warfare, and a composer’s quiet revenge.
Commissioned in 1909 by the impresario Sergei Diaghilev for his famous Ballets Russes, the project was a collision of three titanic artistic forces: the meticulous composer Ravel, the revolutionary choreographer Michel Fokine, and the mercurial ballet superstar, Vaslav Nijinsky.
The trouble began almost immediately with the libretto. Fokine handed Ravel an incredibly detailed scenario, dictating the musical action down to the second. Ravel was annoyed. He wasn’t interested in writing a simple “pantomime” where the music was a slave to the dance steps. He envisioned a grand, sweeping “symphonie chorégraphique” (choreographic symphony) that would paint a complex musical fresco of his “dream of Greece.”
The disagreements became legendary. Fokine demanded music for every tiny gesture, at one point allegedly asking Ravel, “Give me 32 bars for the grasshoppers here.” The composer, who saw music as a fluid, architectural structure, was infuriated by this creative straitjacket. Their collaboration devolved into a tense battle of wills, stretching the ballet’s creation over three painful years filled with heated arguments and frosty silences. Ravel later dryly remarked that the work had caused him “much trouble.”
Adding to the drama was the star dancer. Famous for his otherworldly leaps, Nijinsky reportedly hated Ravel’s rhythmically complex score, declaring it “un-danceable.” He struggled to find his footing within the intricate, shifting time signatures, and it fell to Diaghilev to force his star performer to buckle down and learn the steps.
When “Daphnis et Chloé” finally premiered in June 1912, its reception was tepid. The ballet was poorly programmed, sandwiched between other popular works, and the internal strife had poisoned the atmosphere. The audience’s reaction was lukewarm, and the reviews were mixed. The production itself was only performed a handful of times before being dropped from the company’s repertoire. The epic, three-year struggle seemed to have ended in a whimper.
But Ravel got the ultimate revenge. He knew the true power of his work lay in the score itself. Even before the ballet’s troubled premiere, he had begun planning orchestral excerpts. The two suites he created—especially the second, which contains the thrilling “Daybreak” and “General Dance”—were almost immediate hits in concert halls across Europe.
Freed from the troublesome choreography and backstage drama, the music soared on its own terms. The suites became hugely popular, quickly eclipsing the ballet that had caused Ravel so much grief. While the full ballet is now treasured as a masterpiece, for decades it was the concert suites that ensured the survival and cemented the legendary status of Ravel’s music, a perfect testament to his unyielding artistic vision.
Three little-known facts about “Daphnis et Chloé”
To evoke the story’s pastoral, mythical Greek setting, Ravel included several highly unusual instruments in the massive orchestra. They include the Éoliphone, or wind machine, which consists of a barrel of silk or canvas stretched over a frame that is turned by a crank, producing a haunting, rushing sound that mimics the wind.
Part of the reason for the ballet’s initial failure was the chaotic programming. It shared the bill with another ballet, “Le Dieu Bleu,” a work that proved to be a spectacular and expensive flop for Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes.
Ravel’s score includes a full, wordless chorus. The composer treats the SATB choir as another section of the orchestra. They sing vocalizations (“ahhs” and “oohs”) instead of words to add a unique texture and a sense of human mystery to the soundscape.
Hear “Daphnis et Chloé” live on Nov. 20-22, 2025 led by Artistic and Music Director Designate Alexander Shelley. Learn more.
