For my first album, I deeply wished to record my main repertoire. Even though I’ve been playing these pieces for several years, they still retain the energy of numerous live performances. They have helped me make a name for myself in competitions all over Europe, winning praise from renowned guitarists such as Roberto Aussel, Judicael Perroy, Jérémy Jouve, Rémi Jousselme and Gabriel Bianco.
Why the 20th century? In painting, literature and music, it represents for me a captivating period, full of tragedy and passion, but also charm and beauty. This programme, centred around some of the leading guitar composers of the twentieth-century, corresponds entirely with my vision of classical guitar: pieces that exalt its poetry and timbral palette, and that really let the instrument’s voice be heard. The composers of this programme (with the invaluable collaboration of great guitarists such as Segovia and Yepes) have adapted perfectly to the aesthetic and particularities of the guitar, bringing it to the height of its expressive and technical capacities.
The programme begins with Joaquín Rodrigo’s Tiento Antiguo and its subtle Andalusian sonorities. For me, it evokes both the origins of the guitar and the tradition of sixteenth-century organists, who used to improvise tientos at the start of concerts to test (tentare) the acoustics of churches. This piece presents few thematic materials, as if Rodrigo wanted to offer us a space for improvisation and freedom, where we can have our word to say.
Alexandre Tansman’s Variations on a theme by Scriabin could very well compete with the great Romantic piano repertoire. The prelude by Alexandre Scriabin on which the variations are based (Op.16 No.4, in E flat minor) is simply magnificent. With a duration of almost 10 minutes, it is a large-scale piece, with a very dramatic character, which captivated me from the very first time.
Caprice nº 20 Obsequio al Maestro, by Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco, is one of the 24 Caprices by Goya, directly inspired by the Caprichos by the Spanish painter Francisco de Goya. In this piece, Castelnuovo-Tedesco is paying tribute to his composition teacher, Ildebrando Pizzetti, since the four main themes are quotations from his teacher’s works. It is a work of meditation and mourning, but always with that touch of irony that characterises Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s music.
The music of Valencian composer Vicente Asencio reminds me of Impressionist paintings, and I particularly like to associate it with the work Joaquín Sorolla, whose paintings capture the play of light and shadows, the voluptuousness of fabrics and the reflections of the Mediterranean sea. I usually perform extracts from Vicente Asencio’s Collectici Intim in concert. La serenor, La calma and La joia work very well as a triptych, giving the audience a taste of this beautiful music. Narciso Yepes, a pupil of Vicente Asencio, explains that this cycle ‘is like a collection of separate elements which, before being assembled, were already connected to each other by invisible links’.
This recital ends with a piece I discovered thanks to my first guitar teacher, Rodolfo Lahoz. The Sonata No. 2 for guitar by Argentine composer Carlos Guastavino displays great musical quality, with a rich melodic and expressive development. Guastavino, unfairly overlooked today, was called ‘the Schubert of the Pampas’ for his masterly treatment of melody and his deep connection with Argentine folklore, which he combined with a perfectly classical musical language. Throughout the three movements of this sonata, the guitar sings, cries and dances to the rhythm of the malambo.
Thoughts on the guitar :
What fascinates me most about our instrument is its sonority and timbral possibilities: the work of shaping the sound. It’s thanks to these qualities that the guitar can compete with all the other instruments. In recent years, I’ve been lucky to discover luthier Daniel Friederich’s early work (1958-1970). Two guitars were loaned to me for various projects by traditional lutherie enthusiasts Marc Zammit and Alberto Martínez. I’m particularly fond of guitars from this period because, in my opinion, they combine the Spanish tradition that inspired Daniel (a thin top, simple sides, deep basses and warm, singing trebles) with a unique sound that has left an indelible mark on the world of the classical guitar.
For this recording, I wanted an instrument that would allow me to achieve a sound ideal and focus my attention entirely on the music. The Friederich No. 257 from 1969 has a full, woody, warm sound, close to the aesthetics of those vintage guitars I got to know through passionate collectors and teachers when I was younger in Bordeaux.
These instruments are sometimes more delicate to record on. These days, modern guitars have unprecedented precision and accuracy. But this Friederich is like a person’s voice, it has a heritage. It’s pure poetry and nobility – from the art of its fabrication to the richness of its sound. It allows me to express myself fully, which I sometimes find more difficult with modern guitars.