Nicolás Ruiz ESPADERO (1832-1890)
Piano Music – Volume 1
5 Grands transcriptions (?1870-80) [33:36]
Preludio (c1889) [1:34]
Innocence-caprice op.23 (c1850) [4:56]
Pureza y calma (1889) [3:57]
Ossian polka (late 1850s) [3:15]
Sur la tombe de Gottschalk op.68 (1870) [12:40]
Valse idéale op.60 (publ. 1874) [5:04]
Souvenir d'autrefois (nocturne) op.11 (late 1850s) [6:47]
José Raúl López (piano)
rec. 2018/19, Hugh Hodgson Concert Hall, University of Georgia, Athens, USA
TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC0544 [71:52]
The name of Nicolás Ruiz Espadero was completely unknown to me even after over forty years of seeing obscure piano composers, so congratulations to José Raúl López and Martin Anderson for unearthing the music of this Havana-born piano virtuoso. As usual the notes are exemplary; they tell us that he started learning his craft from his Spanish-born mother, Dolores Espadero y Orta, and then went on to study under José Miró, a pupil of Kalkbrenner and Thalberg, and Julian Fontana, Chopin's friend and amenuensis. Later in life another influence was the American pianist Louis Moreau Gottschalk who met Espadero when he toured Cuba in 1854; they remained friends for life. They performed each other’s music and Espadero prepared many of Gottschalk's works for publication after his death.
This disc and its projected sequel are concentrating on the European flavour of his music; whilst there are a few works of his that are influenced by Cuban culture what we hear here is more typical of his output; an interesting amalgam of the music of Chopin and his contemporaries (Thalberg, Henselt, Herz etc) and the dash and colour of Gottschalk. Nothing is startlingly original but all of it makes for pleasant listening.
Two of the earliest works are the Souvenir d'autrefois – an attractive nocturne that settles into gentle rocking of a barcarolle-like song without words – and the equally lyrical innocence-caprice, a gentle waltz with a long italianate cantilena line reminiscent of early Chopin. Contrasting sharply with this is the Valse idéale – a breezy concert waltz that reminds me of Moszkowski or the Valse caprice by Anton Rubinstein. The delightful Ossian Polka, sprightly and effervescent, was possibly influenced by Gottschalk who wrote three works based on this literary creation. Pureza y calma is one of my favourite pieces in this collection. It is a barcarolle with a smokily languid central section before a highly decorated repeat of the gentle opening melody. In a completely different vein to all these is the elegiac Sur la tombe de Gottschalk, written just two months after the death of his friend. This is at times heart-rending and to my mind the strongest and most individual work on the disc. In its nearly 13 minutes it covers a wide range of emotions from subdued grief and reflection to grandeur and life-affirmation. A worthy tribute.
Woven throughout the album between the original works are the 5 Grands transcriptions. These are alike in that each concentrate on just one section of their respective subjects – the short Faust transcription, for example, is of Méphistophélès' first act aria, the rondo of the golden calf whilst the longest of the collection, the transcription from Poliuto is a faithful rendition of the Act 2 finale. Unlike Liszt in transcriptions of this nature – the Rigoletto quartet or the Lucia di Lammermoor sextet to give two familiar examples – there is no additional material. Espadero adds nothing in the way of cadenzas or gradually increasing decorations. That is not to say that the writing is straightforward – far from it, this is virtuoso stuff full of towering octave work, Thalbergian three-hand effects and huge stretches. It clearly requires a virtuoso to tackle it but I have to wonder to what end? Liszt's transcriptions, especially the Rigoletto paraphrase, still work in the concert hall because they have transcended that part of their ethos which is to bring unfamiliar works in front of a wider audience and contain the spirit of Liszt, his fire, his vision, his personality. Espadero writes well for his instrument and the music, not least the Gounod and Verdi has obviously stood the test of time and yet for all that I miss that individual voice in these transcriptions that would keep me coming back to them.
In his copious and extensively researched notes pianist José Raúl López suggests Espadero was “a Cuban Alkan” citing similarities in character and status; the retreat from society; both were piano teachers well-versed in a vast repertoire, they shared an aversion to travel and their macabre deaths are the stuff of legend; Alkan's may have proven to be a myth but Espadero's accidental burning and subsequent painful death due to an encounter with a kerosene lamp certainly appears to be true. Musically however I wasn't convinced of any strong similarities; maybe other works, the unpublished études perhaps, would prove more kinship to the quirky, darkly humourous music of the Frenchman. I hope that they appear in the next volume. López plays this music with flair and aplomb and a real feel for the style - I am looking forward to the next instalment.
Attractive echoes of the 19th century Parisian piano salons from a sunny Caribbean island.
Rob Challinor
