As a Chilean-born composer and pianist living in Australia, I have nurtured a penchant for bringing Latin American vernacular music into the classical concert hall. Both of these musical traditions are widespread and possess an immense canon fashioned by many an inspired composer. Just as significant, both have been greatly impacted by a myriad of interactions with vernacular music over several centuries. A brief survey of the Western tradition may identify composers such as Mozart and Beethoven engaging with Turkish music, Bartók with Eastern European folk music, or Bizet and Debussy with Spain.
In Latin America, the interaction of European, African and Amerindian musics have, for centuries, created a plethora of vibrant traditions across a vast and complex geographic and demographic landscape. Each region has a complex family tree of genres, which can vary significantly even from one town to the next. It is hardly surprising that Latin America has become a haven for musical expression; to conjure an arcane metaphor, it has become a heavenly alchemical laboratory, where old and new musical currents catalyse a profusion of spiritous harmonies, melodies, rhythms, textures and timbres.
My musical ideas for this album were forged by the conflation of two distinct lifelong creative pursuits: composing a substantial portfolio of solo, chamber, vocal and orchestral music; and arranging for, and performing in Afro-Caribbean and tango ensembles. Consequently, I have sought to develop and embrace a broad musical language, where classical and Latin American traditions intersect in an alluring cultural and sonic dance. From the earliest stages, the arrangements and original compositions in this album were intended to be accessible to lovers of both traditions.
To this end, I deemed it apposite to collaborate with classical musicians based in Latin America. I was incredibly fortunate to meet with Maestro Emmanuele Baldini, who at the time was the artistic director of the Orquesta de Cámara de Valdivia, Chile, and wanted to programme one of my compositions for an upcoming season. A remarkable friendship ensued that flourished into an enthusiastic and serendipitous collaboration. Maestro Baldini perspicaciously curated a bespoke quartet of Brazilian musicians, all of whom possessed great instrumental skill, musical acuity and experience with various forms of Latin American music. The studio recording sessions were veritably magical: the personal and musical chemistry was palpable, synergistic and inspirational. Heaven blew us a kiss and we bathed in its bliss!
I composed SalTango as creative experiment conflating two prominent dance forms, salsa and tango. SalTango begins with a brisk tango-milonga, a genre that deploys the habanera rhythm, made famous in the West by Bizet’s opera, Carmen. Also notable is the chicharra (translates as cicada), a rhythmic “scraping” effect produced by pressuring the bow near the bridge of the violin or viola. This section is followed by a salsa-guaracha, which derives from Afro-Cuban music and consists of layers of interacting rhythmic ostinatos. During this section an improvised piano solo is followed by a buoyant mambo section, giving way to a sentimental episode featuring duelling violins.
Among Astor Piazzolla’s (1921-1992) most ubiquitous compositions, Libertango stands as a defiant nod toward the “reinvention” and “liberation” of tango, releasing it from the genre’s archaic “golden age” while threading classical and jazz influences. My version of Libertango further consolidates this notion by featuring an unequivocally classical inference by way of an unapologetic citation of J. S. Bach’s Prelude in C minor from Book I of the Well-Tempered Clavier, which in turn becomes the accompaniment to the restatement of the melodic theme of Libertango. Notwithstanding, this performance maintains noteworthy stylistic tango gestures: the variación, a brisk and climatic virtuosic passage; the yumbao (pronounced shoom-bao), where low clusters are used on the offbeat as part of a comping pattern; the arrastre, which consists of rapidly ascending chromatic notes in the bass; and a 3+3+2 rhythmic pattern.
Bésame Mucho, was composed by Mexican pianist and composer, Consuelo Velázquez (1916-2005). Amid her prolific contribution, Bésame Mucho has become a seminal part of the vernacular repertoire of Latin America. The present performance being an instrumental version, it draws its mood from the essence and character of the lyrics. A young lover begs for many kisses amid the fear that they may soon be estranged. The longing is palpable in the lyrics and I have sought to portray this through various forms of harmonic dissonances and subtle gestural references to Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde.
Composed by the seminal Cuban pianist and composer, Jesus “Chucho” Valdés (b. 1941), Mambo Influenciado is an iconic composition that draws from both, Afro-Cuban music and jazz. In standard jazz practice, the main melody and chords (or “head” in jazz parlance) are presented at the beginning and end, with opportunities in between for the musicians to improvise over the given harmony. I have conceived this version of Mambo Influenciado in a similar vein. Opening with the main melody, an episode of jazz-influenced material ensues. However, in the spirit of the title’s “influenciado”, this performance soon enters baroque territory, exploring a series of solo and ensemble contrapuntal passages, which flourish into a piano toccata that subtly references J. S. Bach’s Prelude in B-flat of Book I of the Well-Tempered Clavier. A jubilant mambo section gives way to the reinstatement of the main melody.
I conceived Navegar during a study trip to Buenos Aires in 2016. Being away from home and acutely aware of the ample time I had to ponder human experience, I composed this poignant piece which draws metaphoric parallels between sailing vast unknown waters and the uncertainties of life. Beyond such ineffable existential poetics, Navegar is a contemplative milonga campera, a slower sub-genre of tango that typically subdivides the rhythm into arpeggiated 3+3+2 patterns. This composition features the Australian bandoneonist, Stephen Cuttriss.
Valicha was composed by Peruvian school teacher and composer, Miguel Angel Hurtado (1922-1951), and has become an Andean cultural icon. This composition was inspired by, and dedicated to Valeriana Huillca Condori (diminutively, Valicha), who was considered the most beautiful girl of the pueblo. Their romance, however, was furtive and subsequently estranged. The genre of this composition is the huayno, which is characterised by its lively simple duple time, rhythmic syncopation, and what I like to refer to as the Andean cadence: alternating tonalities, such as a passage of major harmonies ultimately resolving to a minor chord.
Brother was inexplicably composed in a matter of minutes, catalysed by news of a poignant episode in a close family member’s life. I recall shutting myself in a random practice studio at the University of Sydney, and swiftly notating the musical ideas that poured so abundantly from layers of overwhelming emotion. Composing and recording this piece has revealed to me the formidable powers of human empathy, which I trust is encompassed by the unhurried valse feel, tapestry of instrumental timbres, and an expertly executed bandoneon performance by Stephen Cuttriss. Entwined in the harmonic language and the melodic contours is perhaps embedded a modicum of hope: a reminder that amid any disappointment, beauty, time and probability remain constants.
Hanacpachap Cussicuinin in its original form was conceived as a religious composition for choir and accompanying early baroque instruments. This title can be translated as “The Joy of Heaven”, or as I prefer, “The Bliss of Heaven” from the original autochthonous tongue, Quechua. Composed and appearing in print during the early decades of the 1600s in Peru, the composer’s identity remains unknown. Some music historians have hypothesised that the composer may have been indigenous, in part due the allusions to syncretic Old and New World religious imagery in the text. Musically, the texture is consistent with adept early baroque polyphony. My arrangement of this historic piece opens and closes with the original printed composition. The intermediary sections feature music I constructed based on the original harmony and derived from baroque counterpoint, but taking some modern stylistic liberties.
Composed by Brazilian composer, Zequinha de Abreu (1880-1935), Tico Tico No Fuba (Sparrow on the Cornmeal) is widely regarded as one of the most famous choros. Inherently an instrumental form, any text associated with this choro was not conceived until years after the music was composed. The title is sufficiently evocative, however, and it is in this vein that the present version retains a virtuosic and jovial character. Moreover, it embraces elements of Brazilian music in a manner reminiscent of Darius Milhaud’s Scaramouche, 3rd movement, where one can hear gestures not only of the choro, but also of samba and bossa nova.
The closing track of this album, Balada Idílica is an original composition reminiscent of the music of Italian film composer, Ennio Morricone, and of romantic works such as Franz Liszt’s Liebestraum and John Field’s Nocturnes. This composition undergoes various episodes of contrasting textures and harmonic realms, but are extracted from the undulating opening melody. Balada Idílica is a personal expression of unsettled sentiments, an enigmatic drama playing out between yearning, nostalgia and aspiration. The almost-resolved ending in this piece welcomes the opportunity for a new beginning.
Album notes by Daniel Rojas