Well, I asked if anyone has had the opportunity to hear both the Maazel and Dutoit versions of Ravel's stunning little opera, "L'Enfant et les Sortileges--but no response as of yet. So (sigh) I took matters into my own hands. Summary from the busy non-executive--whatever recording you choose, do NOT pass through this world without getting to know L'Enfant. If this work doesn't move you--from the child's first sight of the princess, (one of the greatest moments in all of music), to the forest scene and on to the final choral apotheosis--than *you* are an iceberg. I have been confronted by very few works where the sheer inventiveness of the music has left me downright astonished. L'Enfant, (along with the Bartok 3rd and 4th string quartets), is right up there. If you disagree, then, to quote the Teapot, "I punch, sir, I punch you nose." "I box you, I marmalade you." Synopsis: Bored kid doesn't want to do his homework anymore, gets disciplined by his mother, and when left alone, smashes tea pot and cup, tears books, pulls the cat's tail, etc., and then sinks into an armchair. As you would expect, everything comes to life and one by one, they rebuke the child and describe to him the pain he has caused. Towards the end, a squirrel is hurt when the ill-treated forest animals try to attack the child, who cries out for his mother. Everything stops. The child, feeling undoubtedly empathetic at this point, bandages the squirrel. The animals notice that the child is also bleeding, an, powerless to help, remember the child's magic word: "Mama," which they echo through the forest. As the creatures depart, they sing a choral paean to the good child. The lights go up on the final word, "Mama," and the child, (the audience, so to speak), wakes up from his fantastic dream. Carl Stalling music this is not. Carnival of the Animals this is not. Ravel takes this subject matter *very* seriously. It's no wonder that Colette, who provided the original poem which was reworked by Ravel, wept at the first performance. Let us go then, you and I.... The Decca engineers capture the sound of Dutoit's orchestra only slightly better than the DG team did for Maazel in 1960. (!) Both orchestras deliver playing of the highest quality and both conductors are keenly sensitive to Ravel's rarefied soundworld. Dutoit is slightly better in the short orchestral interludes, such as the forest music, where crickets chirp and a lonely bird calls out in the dark. Maazel's orchestra is slightly more incisive in the arithmetic and cat scene. Both orchestras and choirs are sufficiently luminous when necessary. Singers. Here is where Maazel wins outright. Take the scene with the fire. Maazel's Sylvaine Gilma definitely took her voice lessons! Her effortless articulation in these light-speed passages puts Dutoit's Marie Lefort to shame. But it's not only vocal technique that one finds lacking with Lefort. Gilma's "fire" actually *sounds* frightening and magical while she chases the kid around the room. Both singers are also assigned to sing the part of the princess: Lefort sings a beautiful song, but Gilma makes you really *feel* for the Princess, who did, after all, just have her beautiful home torn to shreds--suspension of disbelief is everything here! The two moments of truth: (when the Princess appears to the child) after some exquiste harp arpeggiation and muted strings, the child sings: "Ah, tis she, tis she," and the Princess enters a minor 3rd higher over glowing strings: "Ah, yes, tis she, your fairy Princess." Both performances handle this moment beautifully, though the singers for Maazel are of lighter, purer voice. Second moment: (Forest scene) After a uniquely Ravelian description of insects, frogs and toads, (again, one word--astonishing); the child's melody on the words, "Ah! what happiness to find you again, Garden;" creates a beautiful suspension. Maazel's Ogeas holds the note long enough for the suspension to be resolved as the luminous strings below her change chords, but Dutoit's Lugaz seems to cut off the note before it can be resolve. Anyone have a score? The Cats: Maazel's Berbie and Maurane sound more authentic. The Child: Maazel's Ogeas sounds more like a boy, and sings with much more security and purity than Dutoit's Lugaz. Final Word: Dutoit and Co. deliver a performance full of typical care and attention to detail--yet Maazel's got the singers who can "toss their music," so to speak, and *become* the characters. The final ingredient which tips the scale in favor of the old DG performance is a sense of sadness--The conductor, his singers and players infuse every note of the score with this emotion in it's many different guises: Boredom, Anger, Violence, Fear, Isolation, Loss, Confusion, Mystery, Darkness; and finally, in a moment of transformation and inconclusiveness faintly reminiscent of the final beckoning words of Goethe's Faust, (with a Ravelian twist), the child is led aloft by the forgiving arms of his mother. John Bernard Smyth