Concierto de Aranjuez for Guitar and Orchestra
Jaoquín Rodrigo (1901-99)
Allegro con spirito; Adagio; Allegro gentile
The title Concierto de Aranjuez was inspired by the gardens at Palacio Real de Aranjuez, a spring resort built by King Philip II of Spain in the second half of the 16th century, rebuilt by Ferdinand VI in the 18th century. In respect of this evening’s concert, it would be a happy coincidence if these gardens featured in Manuel de Falla’s ‘Gardens of Spain’ as well. They don’t.
Jaoquín Rodrigo was blind as a result of diphtheria contracted at the age of three. For him, the gardens conjured those delights that the senses other than eyesight relish. He described his concerto as capturing ‘…the fragrance of magnolias, the singing of birds, and the gushing of fountains’. Its triumphant Barcelona première took place in 1940. Whatever mental image we may create on a personal level, it is undeniable that the concerto is intensely and genuinely Spanish in flavour, evoking the exoticism, turmoil and tragedy associated with Spain and her complex history.
The first movement is based on a number of Spanish dance forms, one being the fandango, which is the first thing we hear. The fascinating cross-rhythms offer immediate appeal; also a shade of frustration as we try to tap alongside only to find ourselves cross-footed, the music’s pent-up energy spawning myriad rhythmic surprises. We should notice how Rodrigo ensures that the guitar is heard clearly above or, more precisely, between the more forceful moments for the orchestra.
The second movement lies at the heart of the concerto’s fame. No wonder this is the world’s most popular 20th century concerto. It sings and speaks to us eloquently, yet wordlessly, many listeners being moved to tears by this truly affecting melody, especially by the dialogues between the soloist and individual orchestral players, the cor anglais in particular. Many years after the première, Rodrigo’s wife, Victoria, revealed that this movement reflected their happiness on their honeymoon linked to grief at losing their first child through a late miscarriage. The melody has been adapted, arranged, plagiarised and metamorphosed by many composers, among them that genius of jazz, Miles Davis, in his ‘Sketches of Spain’ of 1960. The short finale is another rhythmically complex piece, again calling to mind the spirit of Spain, and her dance forms in particular.
To mark Rodrigo’s 90th birthday in 1991, King Juan Carlos I bestowed upon him the hereditary title Marqués de los jardines de Aranjuez (Marquis of the gardens of Aranjuez). While some may feel uncomfortable about hereditary titles, others may be pleased that it was this composer who became the beneficiary of such an antiquated and idiosyncratic honour.
Jaoquín Rodrigo (1901-99)
Allegro con spirito; Adagio; Allegro gentile
The title Concierto de Aranjuez was inspired by the gardens at Palacio Real de Aranjuez, a spring resort built by King Philip II of Spain in the second half of the 16th century, rebuilt by Ferdinand VI in the 18th century. In respect of this evening’s concert, it would be a happy coincidence if these gardens featured in Manuel de Falla’s ‘Gardens of Spain’ as well. They don’t.
Jaoquín Rodrigo was blind as a result of diphtheria contracted at the age of three. For him, the gardens conjured those delights that the senses other than eyesight relish. He described his concerto as capturing ‘…the fragrance of magnolias, the singing of birds, and the gushing of fountains’. Its triumphant Barcelona première took place in 1940. Whatever mental image we may create on a personal level, it is undeniable that the concerto is intensely and genuinely Spanish in flavour, evoking the exoticism, turmoil and tragedy associated with Spain and her complex history.
The first movement is based on a number of Spanish dance forms, one being the fandango, which is the first thing we hear. The fascinating cross-rhythms offer immediate appeal; also a shade of frustration as we try to tap alongside only to find ourselves cross-footed, the music’s pent-up energy spawning myriad rhythmic surprises. We should notice how Rodrigo ensures that the guitar is heard clearly above or, more precisely, between the more forceful moments for the orchestra.
The second movement lies at the heart of the concerto’s fame. No wonder this is the world’s most popular 20th century concerto. It sings and speaks to us eloquently, yet wordlessly, many listeners being moved to tears by this truly affecting melody, especially by the dialogues between the soloist and individual orchestral players, the cor anglais in particular. Many years after the première, Rodrigo’s wife, Victoria, revealed that this movement reflected their happiness on their honeymoon linked to grief at losing their first child through a late miscarriage. The melody has been adapted, arranged, plagiarised and metamorphosed by many composers, among them that genius of jazz, Miles Davis, in his ‘Sketches of Spain’ of 1960. The short finale is another rhythmically complex piece, again calling to mind the spirit of Spain, and her dance forms in particular.
To mark Rodrigo’s 90th birthday in 1991, King Juan Carlos I bestowed upon him the hereditary title Marqués de los jardines de Aranjuez (Marquis of the gardens of Aranjuez). While some may feel uncomfortable about hereditary titles, others may be pleased that it was this composer who became the beneficiary of such an antiquated and idiosyncratic honour.