MI ALMA MEXICANA / MY MEXICAN SOUL
Sony 88697704412 (2 CDs)
Alondra de la Parra is accompanied by a boatload of heavy-breathing advance publicity wherever she appears, and such is also the case with her debut recording, Mi Alma Mexicana (My Mexican Soul).
The 29-year-old Mexican maestra is undoubtedly a gifted and charismatic podium presence and this two-disc Sony release is a welcome addition to the catalogue, offering a generous and varied program of Mexican concert works. In the booklet notes, de la Parra states that she was guided by four goals in choosing repertoire: a range of historical eras; contrasting styles; shorter works to offer as wide a selection as possible; and less familiar works by Mexico’s most celebrated composers.
The disc leads off with José Pablo Moncayo’s Huapango, a work so popular in Mexico it is known as the “second national anthem.” Composed in 1941, its folkish themes and rhythmic swagger are wholly characteristic of what one thinks of as Mexican classical music, though to contemporary ears its sense of wide-open spaces and big-boned style may suggest an Elmer Bernstein Western film score – no disrespect meant. De la Parra draws out Moncayo’s piquant scoring felicities as well as the score’s bravado in a rousing performance.
Gustavo E. Campa’s Melodie for violin and orchestra is an early work (1890), and rather derivative, with the shadow of Max Bruch hovering close by. Concertmaster Daniel Andai plays it with a wary chasteness where a bit more personality might have made a stronger impression. The Intermezzo from Ricardo Castro’s opera Atzimba (1900) is cast in the grand lyrical style of Puccini without the melodic distinction.
Candelario Huízar had a varied resume – from silversmith to veteran of the Mexican Revolution who rode with Pancho Villa – though his composing career was cut short at its peak by a paralyzing stroke. His Imágenes (1927) is an interesting work with an impressionistic opening section, though the seams tend to show in awkward transitions. Even at 16 minutes, it feels decidedly overlong.
Manuel M. Ponce’s Guitar Concerto (1941) is pleasant enough but rarely rises above national clichés, though Pablo Sáinz Villegas is an admirable soloist. Dating from 1884, Juventino Rosas’s Sobre las olas is the oldest music on this disc and the most familiar, though it’s ironic that in more Northern climes, the Mexican waltz is somehow identified with ice skating.
Disc 2 opens with Arturo Márquez’s Danzón 2, from 1994, a work that quickly entered the standard repertoire in Mexico and has proven a reliable rouser for Latin-themed orchestra programs in the U.S. If not the most unbridled of performances, this is a fine account, conveying the elegance, color, and sassy dance rhythms, with particularly fine trumpet playing.
Silvestre Revueltas, the wild man of Mexican music, is represented by his infamous Sensemayá, with its crunched harmonics and dervish rhythmic propulsion. Though well played, de la Parra’s account is lacking a bit in both sonic ballast and intensity. Carlos Chávez, conversely, is represented not by his usual Sinfonía India, but with the ‘El Trópico’ section from his Horse Power Suite (1954), a catchy dance, but a curious, lightweight choice coming from Mexico’s most celebrated composer.
Federico Ibarra’s Sinfonía No. 2, Las antesalas del sueño, decisively breaks the dominant folk-music/dance rhythm motif. Cast in a single large movement, this brooding 1993 work opens with dark, dour, piano and angular orchestral writing and punchy aggressive chords, which segue into a more driving and percussive second section.
Jazz musician Eugenio Toussaint wrote his Concerto for Improvised Piano and Orchestra (2006) for his own use and while the orchestral parts are fully composed, the solo line consists only of a figured bass and sketches. The Largo, included here, is the kind of soft, blandly soporific meandering that gives smooth jazz a bad name, though the solo part is played well enough by Alex Brown.
Mario Lavista’s Clepsydra (1990) was commissioned by the San Antonio Symphony to commemorate the 300th anniversary of the discovery of the San Antonio River. (No one ever saw it before then?) Lavista’s work is the most individual on the disc, more hushed and subtle in its hues than many of the works here and skillfully crafted with its evanescent sense of passing time and artful use of tolling chords, like “water clocks.”
Born in 1974, the youngest composer here is Enrico Chapela, whose ínguesu closes the disc. Inspired by a celebrated 1999 Mexico vs. Brazil soccer match, here standard Mexican dances are transmuted and retooled into a strange Ivesian sonic landscape full of archaic off-center fanfares, sudden odd crescendos and referee whistles. It’s all great fun and surely crafted, making me want to hear more from this young composer.
The performances by de la Parra’s New York-based Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas show a youthful, polished and flexible ensemble that lacks something in weight and tonal sheen but makes up the balance with spirited energy and a rhythmic panache that suits this repertoire.
Even with two hour-long discs, I’m not convinced there are any undiscovered masterpieces here, but programs of Mexican classical music are not thick on the ground, and, with an impeccable recording, anyone interested in repertoire byways will likely find the journey fascinating.
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