Music Album Review: 'Great Performances: Rodrigo: Concierto de Aranjuez/Fantasia para un gentilhombre'

On July 29, 1990 - per a notation I made on the compact disc's liner note booklet - I purchased CBS Masterworks' reissue of an album that featured two compositions by Joaquin Rodrigo: the Concierto de Aranjuez and Fantasia para un gentilhombre. Performed by the acclaimed Australian guitarist John Williams with members of the Philadelphia Orchestra (conducted by Eugene Ormandy) and the English Chamber Orchestra (conducted by Charles Groves), this "Great Performances" recording features two signature compositions written for guitar and orchestra composed by the brilliant Spanish composer and pianist.

The Concierto de Aranjuez was composed in 1939, that fateful year that was marked by two connected historical events: Generalissimo Francisco Franco's rise to power as the fascist ruler of Spain at the end of that country's devastating civil war; and the invasion of Poland by Nazi Germany, one of the two right wing dictatorships which had backed Franco's Nationalist faction in its revolt against the Spanish Republic. Rodrigo, who was a brilliant Paris-trained pianist and composer despite the loss of his eyesight at the age of three, wrote the Concierto while he was still living in France.

The three-movement work for solo guitar and orchestra is, as the nameless author of the "Great Performances" album's notes points out, reflect the sightless composer's "heightened sensibility to timbre and sonority. The Concierto de Aranjuez illustrates this throughout [the composition], juxtaposing the guitar sound and other instrumental colors - those of the double bass, violin, cello, clarinet, flute, oboe, and cor anglais - so as to highlight the individuality of the solo instrument, whether played rasgueado, strummed as in the opening measures of the Concierto, or punteado, as in the virtuoso scale passages that put the work out of reach of all but masters of guitar technique."

The first movement, allegro con spirito, begins with an introduction by solo guitar. It is marked by a fairly equitable division of musical honors between soloist Williams (no relation to the eponymous American composer/conductor) and the Philadelphia Orchestra, led by its legendary conductor Eugene Ormandy. 

The second movement, Adagio, is the best-known and oft-covered section of the Concierto de Aranjuez. Per the liner notes, it "begins with the guitar playing a harp-like accompaniment to the beautiful theme initiated by the cor anglais. But the mood of the movement as a whole is not the slow, stately tread that adagio suggests, as a contemplative, rhapsodic discourse decorated with the turns, the trills, and the insistent repetition of notes characteristic of cante flamenco or the deeper cante hondo."  Though this deeply moving piece can be interpreted in many ways (a haunting love song, an hymn to a Spain of a past long gone, or a musical journey to palace gardens near Madrid), it's possible that the Adagio was written for Rodrigo's young wife, who at the time the Concierto was composed had suffered a miscarriage. 

The third and final movement, the Allegro gentile, evokes an old 16th Century Spanish tune, De los alamos vengo. It begins and ends with a guitar solo by Williams, with the movement's "main theme" recurring here and there in lighthearted variations full of musical joy and energy.

Rodrigo's Fantasia para un gentilhombre was written in 1954 specifically for the legendary guitarist Andres Segovia. Based on music composed in the late 17th Century by Gaspar Sanz, the piece is divided into five movements and has a running time of 21 minutes and 44 seconds. The five movements, per the liner notes, are:

1. Villano
2. Ricercare
3. La Espanoleta
4. La Danza de las Hachas
5. Canario

Here, guitarist Williams is joined by conductor Charles Groves and the English Chamber Orchestra, and originally appeared in a separate CBS Records album, apart from the Ormandy-led performance of the Concierto de Aranjuez. 

My Take

I purchased this 1985 re-issue of two albums-in-one-disc in the summer of 1990, two years after my return from my three-month study abroad stint in Seville, Spain. I had originally wanted to purchase a cassette of this music while I was still in Spain, but I didn't know the composition's title or the name of the composer, and the few people who I hummed the famous Adagio to in an effort to find the work did not know either. It wasn't till I returned to the States and asked a professor at Miami-Dade Community College - South Campus' music department what the piece was and who had composed it. Fortunately, my vocal rendition of the Adagio was good enough to yield results, and I eventually found an affordable CD at a Peaches store near my house in Miami.

I'm not a trained musician, nor am I an expert on classical music. My "expertise" on the subject of orchestral music stems from my love of the music and a couple of courses that I took in college - Humanities and Music Appreciation. Accordingly, this review is more about feelings than it is about musical techniques, history, or fuddy-duddy "criticism." 

For me, Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez encapsulates the mix of emotions I felt while I was in Spain. For me, the work - especially the famous second movement - evokes Spain itself. It reminds me of walking along Seville's Paseo de las Delicias, a lovely avenue that runs along the banks of the Guadalquivir River, or traipsing through the botanical gardens of Maria Luisa Park. Its main theme basically oozes with hispanidad, or Spanish heritage, which is imprinted in my DNA just as much my last name and ability to speak and understand Castillian Spanish mark me as Hispanic. 

The Fantasia para un gentilhombre is also a treasure of musical delights, especially in its final three movements. Every time I listen to Rodrigo - as interpreted by Williams and the English Chamber Orchestra - my mind travels back to that magical autumn of 1988, when I was still young, full of dreams and illusions, and the future promised a mix of romance, adventure, and excitement. I hear the Canario, for instance, and I see cloudless blue skies, the fronds of palm trees, and the familiar lines of the Giralda, the Moorish minaret that was originally part of a mosque but now is the belfry of Seville's Cathedral. 

This is one of my favorite classical music albums, and I trot it out every now and then when I need to relax or get inspired to write on my blog or, perhaps, a new piece of fiction. It's a wonderful recording of two exquisitely composed musical works for guitar and orchestra, as well as a magical time machine that transports me 30 years into the past, a time full of good times, good friends, and lovely experiences.