A Spaniard at the Keyboard
Spanish music rests on the twin pillars of Albéniz and Granados. Spanish piano music rests on the twin pillars of "Iberia," the suite by Albéniz, and "Goyescas," the suite by Granados. Excerpts from both suites were heard at Weill Recital Hall on Thursday night.
Of course, there are other Spanish composers (starting with Falla and Turina, and continuing with Mompou, Montsalvatge, Halffter, Surińach, etc.). And there is a ton of other piano music — Alicia de Larrocha introduced all of us to just about all of it.
But those pillars seem to hold up the entire Spanish house.
The pianist at Weill was Alberto Urroz, who was sponsored by the Consulate General of Spain. He is from Navarra, and, in fact, ended his program with "Navarra," by Albéniz. (This piece was once a favorite of Artur Rubinstein.) Mr. Urroz studied on several continents, and now teaches at a conservatory in Madrid.
One of his teachers, incidentally, was György Sándor, the student of Bartók. The late Sándor liked to break strings — but his student, Mr. Urroz, is not that kind of pianist.
The Spanish music was on the second half of the program. Opening the first was Busoni's arrangement of Bach's "Wachet auf," the music heard at every wedding, or many of them. And what an extraordinary piece of music: stately and noble, beautiful and intimate, all at the same time.
Mr. Urroz played the Busoni arrangement with poise and dignity. He kept a decent pulse. And he pedaled judiciously, even if things became just a bit blurry at times.
The main problem with his account was this: He contributed some lumpiness to the musical line. That is, he was guilty of some thudding.
Mr. Urroz continued with one of Liszt's religious pieces, "Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude." There was a main problem here, too: Accompanying notes should have been more delicate, more ethereal; and the melodic line should have been smoother, more elegant. Once again, there was thudding.
But — again as before — there was dignity, there was sincerity. Mr. Urroz plays with "seriousness of purpose," to use an old phrase. And that goes a long way in the arts, as elsewhere.
Closing the first half of the program was a Chopin ballade, No. 4 in F minor. And Mr. Urroz's most unfortunate measures were the opening ones: They should be seamlessly lyrical; instead, they were a little chopped up. Mr. Urroz reminded us that the piano is a percussion instrument — you could almost see the hammers go up and down.
But Mr. Urroz did some commendable playing in this piece, too. Overall, he executed it competently. But this music also needs some panache, and it should even thrill. What's more, Mr. Urroz did not quite have the fingers for the coda — which, granted, not many pianists do.
The second half began with "El amor y la muerte," from "Goyescas." Mr. Urroz played some of it with real authority, and he also demonstrated beauty. But the piece could have used more of a current — more energy, more aliveness.
And we could say the same of the "Iberia" excerpts, of which there were three (the three pieces composing Book I). Occasionally in these pieces, the pianist must let the joy run freely. Mr. Urroz was a little contained. There should be some abandon, some swagger — even some bravura (which is often a bad word in music).
Mr. Urroz was earnest, throughout the program — and this is a fine quality. It's even better when coupled with some pizzazz, or élan.
By the time he got to "Navarra," his fingers seemed very, very tired. He could not quite manage it. But anybody who will champion the core Spanish repertory should be applauded. It would be a pleasure to hear the fringes — Esplá? Nin-Culmell? — too.
