‘His music has joy and energy. It is luminous’- Steven Isserlis on the genius of Gabriel Fauré

“Gabriel Fauré? Ah, yes, I adore the Requiem and that lovely Pavane…” This is often the standard response when people are asked if they enjoy the music of Gabriel Fauré. However, likening it to answering a similar question about Beethoven with, “Oh yes! There’s that great symphony – the one that goes da-da-da DAA,” doesn’t quite capture the depth of Fauré’s work.

While Fauré’s Requiem and Pavane undoubtedly shine, alongside notable pieces like his first violin sonata and piano quartet, there exists a treasure trove of lesser-known compositions that deserve more attention. With 2024 marking the centenary of Fauré’s passing, it’s the perfect moment for enthusiasts, or “Fauréans,” to introduce audiences to his hidden masterpieces.

Born on May 12, 1845, in Pamiers, a quaint village in southwestern France, Fauré spent a solitary childhood largely in a picturesque meadow near his home, which housed a serene chapel. These elements—the beauty of nature and the tranquility of worship—became pivotal to his musical identity.

At the age of nine, Fauré was sent to the Niedermeyer school, known for its focus on early church music. There, his musical education fell under the tutelage of Camille Saint-Saëns, a brilliant but often temperamental mentor. Their bond would last a lifetime, with Saint-Saëns stepping into a fatherly role after personal tragedies struck his own family.

Fauré’s quiet charm allowed him to navigate the refined, artistic circles of Parisian salons with ease, where many of his works premiered. A contemporary even noted his “blissful smile,” comparing him to an Olympian deity. However, his life was not without struggles; he faced debilitating migraines and episodes of depression, and his compositional career did not initially take off as expected, relegating him to make a living as a church organist for years.

It wasn’t until he reached his early sixties that Fauré finally assumed a significant role as head of the Paris Conservatoire. There, he shocked the establishment with sweeping reforms, challenging longstanding traditions in music education. Unfortunately, by this time, he was dealing with profound hearing loss—an incredibly difficult situation for a musician.

On the personal front, Fauré’s life had its own complexities. He married Marie Frémiet in his late thirties, and the couple had two sons, one of whom became a renowned biologist and the other a writer. While their relationship lacked intensity, they remained supportive of each other throughout his life, with Marie even kissing his manuscripts for luck.

Fauré sought out different avenues for romantic expression, having a notable affair with Emma Bardac, who later married Debussy. For the last 25 years of his life, he shared a close relationship with pianist Marguerite Hasselmans, who was celebrated as the finest interpreter of his music. Tragically, no recordings of her performances exist, and on his deathbed in 1924, he urged his sons to care for her, demonstrating the depth of their bond despite the challenges.

So, what makes Fauré’s music so special and why does his name often remain overshadowed by contemporaries like Debussy and Ravel?

It’s a complex question. Despite his modesty, Fauré understood his significance within the musical canon. In a poignant letter to pianist Alfred Cortot, he challenged him on why he performed more works by Debussy and Ravel while sidelining his own compositions.

Fauré’s reticence for self-promotion, combined with the subtleties of his character—both personal and musical—may contribute to his relative obscurity. Unlike Debussy and Ravel, whose works often had strikingly bold titles, Fauré expressed his originality through more traditional forms. Critic Émile Vuillermoz noted that “to love and understand Fauré, one must at all costs have a musical nature.” He aptly remarked on the revolutionary audacity hidden beneath Fauré’s classical veneer.

His later compositions, much like Beethoven’s, came from a place of unique creativity, created even as he faced the silence of deafness. The profound beauty of his harmonies astonishes listeners, offering richer subtleties in his later works compared to his earlier compositions. While many artists fall into despair when faced with adversity, Fauré’s music remains a celebration of joy and light.

Fauré’s music uplifts the spirit and evokes deep emotion. As the contemporary musicologist Joseph de Marliave put it, the simplicity of Fauré’s compositions can catch us off guard before resonating with our hearts. In rehearsals, I often find that seemingly simple passages can bring tears to my eyes.

From childhood to adulthood, Fauré’s music has been a significant part of my life, almost like a benevolent godfather guiding my relationships—so much so that I named my son Gabriel after him. The upcoming festival at London’s Wigmore Hall offers me a unique chance to perform his entire chamber music repertoire with fellow musicians who share a passion for Fauré’s work. It’s our way of expressing gratitude for the many gifts his music has brought us.

As for some of my favorite lesser-known Fauré pieces, let me share five:

1. **Cantique de Racine** – Written while he was still a teenager, this choral piece is exceptionally moving.
2. **Theme and Variations for Piano, Op. 73** – Fauré’s only official set of variations, a standout work.
3. **Clair de Lune, Mandoline** – Among his many glorious songs, these two resonate deeply with me.
4. **Piano Trio, Op. 120** – If I had to choose just one piece, this triumphant composition would be my pick.
5. **String Quartet, Op. 121** – His final work, which is profound, gentle, deeply moving, and ultimately joyous.

Don’t miss my masterclass on Fauré’s chamber music at the Wigmore Hall, London, on October 23 at 11 a.m., part of the centenary celebrations honoring this remarkable composer.