Of swansongs and fireworks
Carlos Bonell, guitar recital
It is said that swans sing before they die; when they die a natural death that is. Gordon Mizzi's Sonata for Six Mute Swans was composed after some intrepid hunters shot and killed these beautiful protected birds in 2002. Mr Mizzi provided a song of death "for those who have no voice". I remember the premier performance by world-renowned guitarist Carlos Bonell that same year and distinctly remember being moved by both the sentiment that the massacre had caused and also the poetic beauty and pathos of the piece itself.
Mr Bonell returned to our shores to regale us with another concert that included even more of Gordon Mizzi's compositions not least of which was the Sonata for Six Mute Swans which has lost none of its beauty and pathos with the passage of time.
The recital at the Auberge d'Italie on August 18 was somewhat turned on its head due to the noisy fireworks being launched from nearby Manoel Island that increased in intensity towards 10.30 p.m. In consequence, most of the Mizzi compositions that according to the programme were to be performed in the second half were performed in the rather lengthy first one in a sort of "beat the noise" game. The second part was cut short and sadly we never got to listen to Mr Bonell's own Canciones or Armand Coeck's Constellations. I suppose when one organises open-air performances at the height of our traditional festa season one has to expect these things to happen.
It is always a challenge for a critic to give an opinion about a new composition. It is one thing to assess how a piece that one has known and loved forever like Tarrega's Recuerdos de la Alhambra was played but quite another to make head or tail not only of the interpretative technique of the performer but also the craftsmanship, originality, musicality and harmony of the composer. This is a challenge that I, for one, relish. Apart from the obvious aesthetic value of a new piece, what I prize above all other things in a new composition is its intellectual impact. Can an audience immediately identify with the music played? Does the music have something to say? Can the audience grasp it both intellectually and emotionally? These are all questions one must ask oneself continually while listening to something that is altogether new. Music is an abstraction that relies heavily on memory to be able to work on an appreciative audience. I felt at times that Mr Mizzi may have had misgivings that his audience would not understand or remember a theme or a phrase and because of that, repeated it unnecessarily. Apart from that, his creations fit the bill in as far as all the other criteria are concerned. A judicious editorial trim would work miracles on what already are very elegant, evocative and colourful compositions.
Mr Mizzi's Island Scenes that were premiered by Mr Bonell who is a great exponent of Mr Mizzi's music were made up of three movements; more like tone poems, entitled Mdina - Citta Notabile, Sliema it-Torri, San Giljan - Festa tal-Bajja. All in all, the thematic content and the descriptiveness worked, however, the tendency to overwork what could have been delightfully vague watercolours was very much in evidence. Although sadly overworked watercolours are irredeemable, musical compositions, with a little editing can be restored to a honed and polished beauty. Mdina's theme was the gentle cantilena which was developed in a slow rhapsody. The nostalgic revocation of Tower Road with its faraway 70s melodies was a trifle overworked and should some repeats be cut, would have even greater impact. I was intrigued most of all by San Giljan - il-Festa tal-Bajja which being Maltese and a Giljaniz I would have imagined to have been quite different. It was a festa that missed the most important aspect: people, and the noise they make! The solemn minuet-like introduction that meandered reflectively all the way through, made me feel as if the revellers had all gone home to sleep and that not a cat was stirring. The only movement evoked was perhaps a banner billowing faintly in the summer breeze.
Not so quiet was the composition Saints and Fireworks; while saints was solemn enough the tarantella that described a kaxxa nfernali was pyrotechnical enough to provide serious competition for the real fireworks that at that point were happening in earnest.
The rest of the programme included works by Gaspar Sanz, Francisco Tarrega and Manoel de Falla. A very lovely transcription of the very famous slow movement of Joaquin Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez truly stole the show and confirmed what a great master Carlos Bonell is with a dazzling technique that is transcended by his deep sense of lyricism and colour. It is the type of guitar playing that holds you spellbound.
Mr Bonell returned to our shores to regale us with another concert that included even more of Gordon Mizzi's compositions not least of which was the Sonata for Six Mute Swans which has lost none of its beauty and pathos with the passage of time.
The recital at the Auberge d'Italie on August 18 was somewhat turned on its head due to the noisy fireworks being launched from nearby Manoel Island that increased in intensity towards 10.30 p.m. In consequence, most of the Mizzi compositions that according to the programme were to be performed in the second half were performed in the rather lengthy first one in a sort of "beat the noise" game. The second part was cut short and sadly we never got to listen to Mr Bonell's own Canciones or Armand Coeck's Constellations. I suppose when one organises open-air performances at the height of our traditional festa season one has to expect these things to happen.
It is always a challenge for a critic to give an opinion about a new composition. It is one thing to assess how a piece that one has known and loved forever like Tarrega's Recuerdos de la Alhambra was played but quite another to make head or tail not only of the interpretative technique of the performer but also the craftsmanship, originality, musicality and harmony of the composer. This is a challenge that I, for one, relish. Apart from the obvious aesthetic value of a new piece, what I prize above all other things in a new composition is its intellectual impact. Can an audience immediately identify with the music played? Does the music have something to say? Can the audience grasp it both intellectually and emotionally? These are all questions one must ask oneself continually while listening to something that is altogether new. Music is an abstraction that relies heavily on memory to be able to work on an appreciative audience. I felt at times that Mr Mizzi may have had misgivings that his audience would not understand or remember a theme or a phrase and because of that, repeated it unnecessarily. Apart from that, his creations fit the bill in as far as all the other criteria are concerned. A judicious editorial trim would work miracles on what already are very elegant, evocative and colourful compositions.
Mr Mizzi's Island Scenes that were premiered by Mr Bonell who is a great exponent of Mr Mizzi's music were made up of three movements; more like tone poems, entitled Mdina - Citta Notabile, Sliema it-Torri, San Giljan - Festa tal-Bajja. All in all, the thematic content and the descriptiveness worked, however, the tendency to overwork what could have been delightfully vague watercolours was very much in evidence. Although sadly overworked watercolours are irredeemable, musical compositions, with a little editing can be restored to a honed and polished beauty. Mdina's theme was the gentle cantilena which was developed in a slow rhapsody. The nostalgic revocation of Tower Road with its faraway 70s melodies was a trifle overworked and should some repeats be cut, would have even greater impact. I was intrigued most of all by San Giljan - il-Festa tal-Bajja which being Maltese and a Giljaniz I would have imagined to have been quite different. It was a festa that missed the most important aspect: people, and the noise they make! The solemn minuet-like introduction that meandered reflectively all the way through, made me feel as if the revellers had all gone home to sleep and that not a cat was stirring. The only movement evoked was perhaps a banner billowing faintly in the summer breeze.
Not so quiet was the composition Saints and Fireworks; while saints was solemn enough the tarantella that described a kaxxa nfernali was pyrotechnical enough to provide serious competition for the real fireworks that at that point were happening in earnest.
The rest of the programme included works by Gaspar Sanz, Francisco Tarrega and Manoel de Falla. A very lovely transcription of the very famous slow movement of Joaquin Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez truly stole the show and confirmed what a great master Carlos Bonell is with a dazzling technique that is transcended by his deep sense of lyricism and colour. It is the type of guitar playing that holds you spellbound.