Lorenzo Palomo, a native of Córdoba, is a composer in whose music
the traditions of Andalusia are never very far to seek – though
he now lives in Berlin. His work has been fairly extensively performed
in Spain and elsewhere; his Canciones españolas had its
first performance, by Montserrat Caballé in 1987 at Carnegie Hall,
for example, and his Dulcinea was premiered in May of 2006
in the Berlin Konzerthaus, with the chorus and orchestra of the
Berlin Deutsche Oper. This is the second CD devoted to his work
in the Naxos series of Spanish Classics: see the review
by Göran Forsling and the review
by Evan Dickerson.
Cantos del alma
sets four poems by Juan Ramón Jiménez (1881-1958), a fellow
Andalusian, who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in
1956. The four texts chosen concentrate on Jiménez’ poetic skill
in the evocation of landscape and object, but the selection
also allows Palomo to respond to the poet’s sense of the interaction
between the human soul and its surroundings, this being essentially
the poetry of a kind of belated romanticism. In his settings,
Palomo’s writing for the clarinet is particularly fine, not
least at the beginning and end of the sequence. In the last
song, ‘Los palacios blancos’, setting lines on the death of
a child, the interweaving of soprano and clarinet achieves a
poignant beauty, in music which is simultaneously elegiac and
expressive of a sense of transfiguration, as the soul of the
child enters the ‘white palaces’ of heaven. The four poems are
symmetrically separated by an orchestral interlude which carries
the title ‘Serenata antillana’. The reference to the Antilles
evokes Jiménez’ much loved wife and inspiration, Zenobia Camprubí,
whose family came from Puerto Rico – the island coming to be
very valuable to the poet. Unfortunately on my copy, this track
was faulty, though I could hear enough to find the piece richly
evocative. Cantos del alma is the more substantial of
the two works on this disc, the poems of Jiménez stimulating
Palomo to the composition of music of considerable emotional
depth and beauty.
The second work
here, Sinfonía a Granada is a little more lightweight.
The work was commissioned by the Regional Government of Granada
and, though one doesn’t doubt the sincerity of the composer’s
fascination with that wonderful city and its surrounding area,
there are times when the music doesn’t entirely rise above the
level of vivid local colour, when it settles for being a kind
of high-class musical tourist brochure. Clarinet and soprano
voice are replaced by guitar and soprano, poems by Juan Ramón
Jiménez are, as it were, replaced by (lesser) poems by Luis
García Montero. Again there are four songs and an instrumental
interlude – though this time the interlude occurs after the
third song rather than after the second. Montero himself is
heard as a narrator. The writing for guitar – played with fluent
idiomatic control by Vicente Coves – is steeped in the musical
gestures of flamenco, especially the rhythmic patterns of the
bulerías. ‘Subiendo a la Alhanbra’ is a kind of musical
aubade, and the rhythm of the bulería again dominates
in ‘La tierra y el mar’, where affinities with Rodrigo are perhaps
most noticeable. ‘Danza del Sacromonte’ was, the composer tells
us, inspired by a specific experience: “A couple of years ago
I was spending the night in the company of the great flamenco
singer, Enrique Morente, and other friends in the narrow streets
of Sacromonte. A gipsy girl came out if a cave some distance
from us. She was very graceful with long hair, and carrying
a guitar. The tapping of her shoes resonated loudly in my ears.
Her silhouette, lit up by the moon, stood out marvellously in
the night. That image fascinated me”. The result is a striking
piece, a miniature tone poem full of vivid colours and rhythmic
patterns. It is a piece which might surely find its way into
programmes, on disc or in the concert hall, independent of the
rest of the Sinfonía a Granada. And perhaps in
that suggestion lies the problem. The very title ‘Sinfonia’
perhaps encourages one to expect more unity than one encounters
here. The work tends to fragment into five sections; in truth
it would have been better described as a suite. As such, it
contains - with its echoes of flamenco and gipsy rhythms, of
Rodrigo, of the remembered melismata of much older musical traditions,
some pleasantly attractive and colourful music, but feels a
little lightweight after the powerful songs of the Cantos
del alma.
Palomo has been
very well served by his performers here. The two instrumental
soloists are excellent and any Spanish composer (one is tempted
to say any composer) who has his music sung by Maria
Bayo is on to a very good thing. The City of Granada Orchestra
play with discipline and colour under the direction of Jean-Jacques
Kantorow. The whole makes a useful addition to a valuable series.
Glyn Pursglove