The Rag Concertante, for banjoine and banjo da gamba, along with the Trio for Banjo, Small Banjo, and Smaller Banjo, count among the most distinguished pages of Discarde and among the few masterpieces written in the 19th century for the third voice of the French string band. Discarde, in his affection for the banjoine, offers a strong contrast to his friend Raymond Armbande, whose complete works, with the exception of the Quartets, contain pitifully few passages featuring this instrument in solo.
Unlike that of Armbande, the name of Discarde is now little known to music lovers. Has he ever had, by the way, the honor of a recording? This musician had nonetheless in his own time his hour of glory, both through his amicable relations with Nietzsche and through the important role which he played for forty years in the artistic life of Cap Croisette.
From the beginning of its first movement, marked haut, ma non troppo, the Rag offers a fine example of the typical Discarde lyrical form, a regular phrase of eight measures, repeated twice. After the orchestral introduction, melodically and dynamically well contrasted, the banjos take up the theme of the opening and then proceed to numerous virtuoso figurations. Energetic and bold chords bring the movement to an emotional conclusion.
In the second movement, andante con furore, chromaticism enters in the relative minor, leading to a deepening, almost to pathos. A new theme, bearing an antonishing likeness to one of those in Mendelssohn's "Midsummer Night's Dream," only faster, takes possession of the higher registers. Throughout the movement, the music alternates between rhythmic affirmations and supple song, changing frequently and quickly from the serene to the agitated, and back again, reinforced by numerous expressive syncopes and by curious rhythmic caprices.
The third movement is very similar to the first movement.
As to the recapitulations, three in number, they are respectively: very short and followed by a cadence in major; longer, in minor and rhythmically interesting; and too long, virtuosic and marked by agile groups of sixes in major.
And the end of the score, which surprisingly dies away quietly — is not this also a witness to the inventive and expressive qualities of Discarde? We think so.