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Rating: I have always believed that music is not merely entertainment, but rather a feeling, and, like any other feeling, it manifests in many aspects, yet always with its two components: love and rationality. Love, which arises spontaneously, and rationality because one must never lose sight of the objectivity of things.
"They laughed when Andrés Segovia sat down and started to play the guitar. The audacity of the man, bringing a flamenco instrument into the sacred spaces of concert halls. This foolish young man is making futile attempts to change the guitar—with its mysterious, Dionysian nature—into an instrument worthy of Apollo. The guitar responds to the passionate exaltation of Andalusian folklore and not to the precision, order, and structure of classical music."
The critic who uttered these words way back in 1910 was uniquely ignorant and inaccurate. In fact, I would dare say historically so. Of course, he could not have known how events would unfold, but he criticized quite harshly the audacity of that man, who today enjoys a completely different reputation. It was a widespread mindset to consider the guitar useful only for performing Spanish folk songs. Something that would horrify us now, given the breadth and completeness of this instrument, as well as the impact it has had on all music and the countless genres in which it excels.
The young Andrés, born into a poor family that did not even look favorably on the fact that he dedicated most of his time to music, intuited the potential of the instrument from a young age, and as a self-taught musician, he began to study the works of Sór, Tarrega, and Arcas, developing a visceral, almost morbid love (but in a good way) for the instrument. At the end of each concert, Segovia used to say that it was the guitar that was "muy cansada" (very tired) and not he who was tired, and furthermore, it is quite singular how Segovia likens the image of the guitar to the figure of a woman:
"The grace of its curves... the delicate ornaments... the line and light of its slender body penetrated my heart as profoundly as those of the woman predestined by heaven to become our beloved companion."
The poetry of these words perfectly complements his work, of which some essays are contained in this double volume that collects some of the interpretations Segovia brought to concert halls: Bach, Albeniz, Fernando Sor, Girolamo Frescobaldi, and many others who need no introduction, demonstrating what has always been the (very successful) goal of his life, showing the incredulous the validity of the six strings in interpreting what had hitherto remained the undisputed territory of violins and pianos.
The CD is relatively recent in publication, though the recordings are clearly not quite as recent, and it’s a pity that the sound quality is not exactly top-notch, something nonetheless widely tolerable considering the contents and the instruments available at the time. The interpretations are clearly of classical mold, without Spanish folkloric nuances, and, just to mention a few, it starts with Bach with "Siciliana" and "Bourrée," "Minuetto" and "Rondò" by Fernando Sor, passing through the tremolo of "Scherzino" and the "Tarantella" (though not Neapolitan) and so on, most of which were live performances, thus, without tricks and deception. Segovia is a true icon in the classical world, staying silent about him would be like keeping the truth hidden from children. Our way of understanding classical guitar today is due to his work as a "missionary of the instrument," who, starting from the simple premise that it was possible, continued along the path already taken by Tarrega. However, the latter never went beyond composing and playing for a small circle of friends, while Segovia took the guitar around concert halls, usurping the "sacred spaces" of classical music. I do not think it is bold to say that Segovia did for classical guitar what figures of the caliber of Jimi Hendrix did in other musical realms: liberate the instrument from the stereotypes that kept it caged. Rebellious and resourceful, this is the figure of the guitarist, which evidently is not only fitting for the "damned" world of rock music. The important thing is to do as much as possible with one's instrument, enhancing it and obtaining the most varied timbral and compositional nuances, and of course, conveying emotions. Therefore, the praise should not be for the instrument but for those who have given it new life without fear of daring, and if someone like me, who often has diametrically opposed preferences, tells you these things, linking back to the introduction on the parallelism of love and music, this review should not surprise you.
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