Isaac ALBÉNIZ (1860-1909)
From Suite Española, Op.47 (1886): Asturias; Mallorca; Sevilla [17:42]
Enrique GRANADOS (1867-1916)
From 12 danzas españolas (1890): Andaluza; Oriëntal; Zambra [13:36]
Antonio RUIZ-PIPÓ (1934-1997)
Cancion y Danza (1958) [4:10]
Ástor PIAZZOLLA (1921-1992)
Oblivion (1982) [6:17]
From Histoire du Tango (1970): Bordel; Café; Nightclub [18:50]
Mikhail ZEMTSOV (b.1969)
Al Rato Veras [4:24]
All transcriptions by Mikhail Zemtsov and Enno Voorhorst.
Mikhail Zemtsov (viola), Enno Voorhorst (guitar)
rec. March 2009, Westvest 90, Schiedam, The Netherlands. DDD
OTTAVO OTR C30973 [65:02]
Duo Macondo was named after the imaginary city created by Gabriel García Márquez.
The mystic Macondo of Márquez is both “far far away” and always here, in our
heads. It is a good name for an ensemble that bridges distant countries. Mikhail
Zemtsov on viola and Enno Voorhorst on guitar are both accomplished players
and form an interesting and unusual duo.
The first part of the program is dedicated to that pair of Catalan composers
whose names go together so often: Albéniz and Granados. Each is represented
by three pieces with strong Spanish elements, based on folk dance. In the
arrangements, the roles of the two instruments are rather fixed: the viola
sings the melodic line, while the guitar takes the accompaniment. The result
resembles a collection of songs, where the viola is the singer. The arrangements
are natural, not too dense. The timbre and register of the two instruments
are alike, which helps in the blend of voices. Asturias is one of the
best-known pieces by Albéniz, thanks mostly to solo guitar transcriptions.
It is a dark, mysterious legend, kind of a Spanish Erlkönig. Mallorca
is a bittersweet romance, of the Liebesleid kind, almost a proto-tango.
Sevilla is a hearty celebration.
When we move from Albéniz to Granados, not much is changed. Spain is still
the source of inspiration. Andaluza is like a fiery gypsy dance. Its
middle episode is sweet and relaxed, while the outer parts are agitated and
very rhythmic. Oriëntal has the swaying momentum of a lullaby. The
viola cedes the leading role in the ballad-like beginning, and instead supplies
a pizzicato accompaniment. When it regains the reins, its smoky rough voice
is very humane. This is the music of the twilight. Zambra returns to
the mood of Andaluza; it is a character dance, with a slower middle
section.
Cancion y Danza by Antonio Ruiz-Pipó serves as a separator between
the idealistic bright colors of Albéniz and Granados, and the more realistic
tango world of the second half of the disc. This music is unpretentious and
simple, but not plain. It could be called neo-Renaissance; I can easily imagine
it being played at the ball in the Capulets’ house, for example. Cancion
is a saraband – cold, gray, bringing thoughts of mists and stones. It is followed
by the merry, galliard-like Danza, with a strong, bouncy beat and some
wicked cool effects from the viola. Actually, both instruments here masquerade
in the antique costumes of a lute and a viol … and they do so most convincingly.
After we refreshed the “taste buds” of our ears, we move from sunny Spain
to the rainy, depressed Buenos-Aires of Ástor Piazzolla. The arrangements
change accordingly: we have quite a different set of sonorities. Oblivion
is done perfectly: it is warm and poignant at the same time. As is customary
now for Piazzolla interpretations, we have “the effects”, but they are very
natural. Bordel, Café and Nightclub are chunks from the
suite Histoire du Tango originally written for guitar and flute. Here
the arranger did not have to tear a single fabric into two voices: the distinct
voices were already there. Bordel is cheerful and lighthearted. Café
is one of Piazzolla’s evening pieces, sorrowful but with motion. It tells
a story, and is very choreographic. The viola sings magically. Finally, in
Nightclub the viola proves its versatility, switching between the roles
of a dark-colored cello and a soaring violin. Its nervous, vibrant voice suits
this music better than the original flute.
Mikhail Zemtsov, the violist of the duo, composed Al Rato Veras – but
it could as well have been written by Piazzolla himself, so naturally does
it fit the Maestro’s idiom. It has its “big tune” (rather remarkable), it
has a sequence of intense and introspective episodes – all in accord with
Piazzolla’s formulae. The result is very satisfying.
The playing of both musicians is virtuosic and committed. However, while the
guitarist just does his job well, it seems to me that the violist takes a
step beyond. He constantly surprises me, almost in every piece. There is some
really excellent viola playing here! The recording quality is also very good.
I would prefer to hear fewer of the extra-musical squeaks and noises that
accompany the guitar playing, especially in Albéniz. I did not notice them
much in the Piazzolla.
Did I like the disc? Yes, I did, though not enough to say that I loved it.
It clearly consists of two distinct parts with a separator, which could make
it a fine recital. Such lack of unity can be considered a disadvantage for
an album, but it also keeps the listener interested over repetitive listenings.
I can feel the passion that Enno Voorhorst and Mikhail Zemtsov have for this
music. When I listen to each piece, I feel that I am gazing into its world.
But still I feel some detachment, some coldness. I am seeing the world: I
do not enter it. Anyway, this disc is very satisfying on many levels. It contains
some signature music from Spain and Argentina, expertly played, in fine arrangements
for an interesting combination of instruments. A good one!
Oleg Ledeniov
Signature music from Spain and Argentina, expertly played, in fine arrangements
for an interesting combination of instruments