Brazileira (from 'Jamaican Rumba and Other Pieces')

I sat up until 4 o’cl. in the morning one New Year’s Eve in the late 80’s with a lady in her late 80’s. She was Thora Klinchowström and had lived in Paris with her painter husband Nils Dardel when and where it all happened. She spoke of partying with Picasso, Modigliani, Giacometti, Picabia, Man Ray, Léger, Stravinsky. She was closely involved with Ballets Russes’ Paris rival, Ballet Suédois, she had her portrait painted by Modigliani, and her husband-to-be chose Erik Satie as his Best Man. So you can imagine the wealth of knowledge — and anecdotes! — for a young, eager musician! Thora probably longed for her bed shortly after midnight, but how could I let her go. I was all questions, I could not stop. I asked about ALL the artists from that time, Saint-Saëns, Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, Cocteau, Kandinsky.... it was one of the most memorable nights of my life. She described how much everyone loved Satie and that Milhaud was rarely invited to parties because he was ‘boring’. Let’s contest that with this blast of a piece, the final movement, Brazileira, from his two piano suite Scaramouche! Scaramouche is in this case not referring to the figure of the Commedia dell’arte, but to the children’s theatre for which Milhaud produced music. The original version is for saxophone and orchestra, but was later arranged by the composer for two pianos. The Brazilian musical idiom he knew well from having worked during the First World War as the assistant to Camille Claudel’s brother, Paul Claudel, poet and playwright, who was serving as French ambassador to Brazil.