Joaquin Rodrigo is probably best known for his Fantasia para un gentilhombre, the Fantasia for a Gentleman, a sprightly piece paying homage to 18th–century musical forms and ideas, and for the Concierto de Aranjuez that is a staple of every guitar competition. Even if you’ve never heard his name or the names of these compositions, if you listen to classical music at all it’s practically a dead cert that you’ve heard the second movement of the Concierto, in which the guitar accompanies a solo on the English horn that could break your heart.
It came from broken hearts, those of Rodrigo and his wife after the death of their stillborn little son – this movement is the lament for a beloved child. It combines tragic remoteness with an intimacy of emotion that anyone who has ever had such a loss will recognize at once – an emptiness of sound to echo the emptiness of bereaved hearts, and a yearning melody that longs for comfort from some far-off place where the beloved has gone. Perhaps someone like Rodrigo, who was blind from the age of three, can ‘see’ realities that the rest of us miss and bring to us by way of sound what often eludes our crowded vision.
Rodrigo’s life wasn’t all tragedy, however. He was a successful and greatly respected composer (born 1901) who composed in Braille, which was then transcribed into musical scores for publication. He used Spanish motifs in his work but was not passionately nationalistic like de Falla and his followers; and he died covered with honors from Spanish and other European cultural institutions, most notably the Prince of Asturias award, Spain’s highest civilian honor, and the hereditary title of Marquis of the of the Gardens of Aranjuez, bestowed on him by King Juan Carlos in 1991 (after his death in 1999 his daughter became the current Marquesa). The flowery title is quite appropriate for a composer of so many exquisite pieces which do appear like the vivid and various flowers in an extravagant garden.
Much of Rodrigo’s work was done with and for other musicians, many more famous than himself: the great guitarist Andres Segovia (the Fantasia), harpist Nicanor Zabaleta (Concierto serenata), flautist Sir James Galway (Concierto pastoral), cellist Julian Lloyd Weber (Concierto como un divertimento), Celodonio Romero, patriarch of Los Romeros the fabulous guitar-family of Spain and America (Concierto Andaluz). The list of his compositions for guitar, and for piano, is enormous; and there are also many for other orchestral and solo instruments, and many for orchestra itself. ‘Prolific’ hardly conveys the breadth of Rodrigo’s genius – he wrote hundreds of pieces in widely different styles, never boring, never the same from one genre or one piece to the next.
The piece that the PIP will be playing in the September concert is called Tres viejos aires de danza, Three Ancient Dance Melodies. It was written for solo piano; its orchestration was first performed in 1930. There’s nothing particularly Spanish about it; it draws from the common trove of European dance-music of the Middle Ages and Renaissance. It comprises a luscious ‘Pastoral’ that gives a lovely, simple, sinuous melody to the strings, flutes and finally the brass. This is followed by a saucy ‘Minuet’ that suggests the peasant origins and lively tempo of this dance’s origins (yes, you will be allowed to get up and dance if the space in Luther’s courtyard permits). The last movement, needing no translation, is the 'Jiga', with a jig’s triple rhythm, but over a strong 1-2 beat that might make you want to get up and march (which is also OK if you can get enough of your fellow concert-goers to join you). It is a thoroughly delightful piece, entirely in the tradition of the PIP’s summer ‘pops’ concerts – you’ll love it. And if this is your first taste of Rodrigo, it will inspire you to go and hear more.
