Vous êtes sur la page 1sur 2

Of these last, only Bacarisse had the good fortune to escape to a country--France--which was congenial to artistic

careers. The rest lived out their lives in artistically inhospitable places like Mexico and Argentina, which had a hard
enough time supporting their native talent (see, for instance, the difficult lives led by Mexico's Manuel Ponce and
Argentina's Alberto Ginastera, the latter a long-time "internal exile" during the Peron years).
Thus the light lit in 1927 was snuffed out. Since Segovia had no interest in the music of Sainz de la Maza or the
Group of Madrid, their memory faded with chilling swiftness as a result. Fifty years passed and each of them died,
and with them Sainz de la Maza, whose efforts on their behalf had enjoyed so little success during the 40-year reign
of the Franco government.
Before me stands a copy of one of the pieces written for Sainz de la Maza: the 61-year-old Preludio y Danza of
Julian Bautista, published in 1933 by Unin Musicl Espaola, Madrid. The cover lists several other pieces written
by members of the group: two Homenajes (to the 18th-century harpsichordist Mateo Albniz and the 1920s German
expressionist film maker F.W. Mumau) by Gustavo Pittaluga; a Pavana by Bacarisse; an Aria by Halffter; a Toccata
by their contemporary Joaquin Rodrigo, who, blind and apolitical, rode out the war outside the country and then
returned to it; and, most tantalizing of all, a Sonata by Antonio Jos.
Of these, only the Bautista and the two Pittaluga pieces ever saw publication; no trace of the Halffter, Bacarisse and
Rodrigo pieces listed here has yet been located, at least in part due to the extreme dislocations forced on the
composers during the War (most of Bautista's pre-War production, for instance, was lost when his Madrid house
was destroyed during those dark years).
But there's a curious trick of history at work, which sometimes bails us out when, fools that we are, we try to destroy
that historical continuity which alone keeps us from slipping back into barbarism: you only have to pass the baton
along once--if you pass it to the right person. Before his death Sainz de la Maza taught, influenced, and accepted as
his assistant another young exile--Cuban-born, Venezuela-raised guitarist Ricardo Iznaola. He told Iznaola about the
Group of Madrid--and gave him a copy of the cherished, long-hidden manuscript of the "'lost" Jos Sonata, inscribed
"a mi querido amigo Regino..." ("to my dear friend Regino...").
Well, you begin to see where this leads, and who has been guiding my steps through the ruins. It takes one exile, I
suppose, to appreciate another, and I've spent most of my adult life over three thousand miles from where I was born
and raised. When Ricardo told me about these artists, I recalled a copy of that stunning Bautista piece which I've
owned for many years--I'd often wondered about those "lost" pieces.
He gave me copies of the extant treasures, and then leaked out to me audiotapes he'd made of the finished works-tapes whose history, to date, has been nearly as melancholy as that of the music on them (release of his 1984
"Generation of 1927" recording has been stymied by an unscrupulous recording firm, now in receivership, which
can't release the tape, yet won't relinquish rights to the performer). [Note: A 1996 Ricardo Iznaola recording of
1927: Spanish guitar music from the time of Garca Lorca is now available on CD.]
And now I have copies of the music before me, and I am listening, on my office Walkman, to some of the most
seductive and challenging guitar music of our time: music which makes powerful statements to the listener and
extraordinary demands on the player, and which deserves--demands!--a place on the programs of the next generation
of guitarists.
Bautista's Preludio y Danza (UME 16953) is the only item previously recorded (by Laurindo Almeida, around
1965), and is available through the Guitar Solo mail-order catalogue. Despite its title, it is far from simplistic, and its
two movements, thematically related, encompass a wide variety of moods and tempi. The "Danza" includes episodes

of "lentamente" recitative among the spirited 5/8 and 3/8 rhythms, and changes character on occasion to quote from
the "Preludio." Technically, it ranks with the more difficult Villa-Lobos 6tudes, and has a crowd-pleasing quality
that could bring it wide, if belated, circulation.
Pittaluga's Homenaje a Mateo Albniz (UME 16920) employs frank--and charming--Neoclassicism in the same vein
as Ravel's experiments, using the resources of the instrument to great advantage. In the Elegia (Homenaje para la
tumba de Murnau) (UME 16954), however, we are on quite different ground. Expressionistic use of chromaticism
and a weird cadenza-like opening featuring brooding, sweeping arrastres introduce a dark and disturbing portrait of
the film maker who, in Nosferatu, gave us the first and most haunting of vampire movies. The pieces make a striking
pair, wildly contrasting as they are.
Also in the Neoclassic mode is the Espaola of Rosa Garcia Ascot (UME 21641), the only female member of the
group and wife of the Spanish composer and critic Jesus Bal y Gay. This is an unpretentious and charming dance
tune interrupted every so often by a beguiling texture trill in the treble, accompanied by a bouncing bass. Like the
rest of these pieces it uses the whole compass of the guitar, and will challenge any but the most awesomely prepared
player.
Other than the Bautista, the only other pieces on my tape which are currently in print are the three by Bacarisse that
Iznaola has excerpted. These are the rollicking Zapateo (from the Petite Suite, Schott SCH 138); a lovely, lilting
Ballade (SCH 137), la sicilienne; and a strong, athletic Passapied (GA 608). All are worth a place on anyone's
Spanish program--but pale beside the last item on the bill: the amazing Sonata of Jos Antonio. Iznaola, its only
contemporary interpreter, regards the Sonata as "by far the most ambitious guitar piece written by the 'Generation of
'27"' and "perhaps the greatest piece for solo guitar ever written in Spain." It is difficult to argue with him. My
previous candidate for this honor would have been the Fantasia-Sonata of Juan Manen, written for Segovia, but this
piece so surpasses the thoroughly respectable Manen as to be a revelation.

Vous aimerez peut-être aussi