Joaquin Rodrigo, The Great Guitarist

Pepe Romero

I feel that Joaquin Rodrigo must be described as “the great guitarist.” I do not know whether this is a result of his not being a guitar player or in spite of it, but in this article I will show how Rodrigo has contributed both to the level of virtuosity of the guitar, and to the unification of the techniques of the flamenco and classical schools of playing, as well as the many ways in which Rodrigo has expanded the horizons of the guitar.

In 1939 the Concierto de Aranjuez was born into the world of the guitar, demanding that the performer break through the boundaries that had divided the flamenco guitarist from the classical. In the very first notes of this concerto, the guitarist must play rasgueados, a technique that classical players had “learned to forget,” with the idea that rasgueados were too brutal for such an aristocratic instrument. These opening rasgueados must be exact, rhythmic, and with precise accents to create a perfect crescendo that is delicate yet at the same time fiery and passionate. In those first magical moments of the concerto, the guitar says to the player, “forget your limitations, forget your boundaries; combine your classical and flamenco traditions and become a Spanish guitarist.

The rasgueados are followed by a passage of staccato single notes played on the bass strings. This creates a second wave of crescendo in both dynamics and intensity (calling for a strong apoyando stroke in the right hand), and the guitar exits with a descending scale that should sound like the leaves of a tree gently moved by the evening breeze. With this, Rodrigo has made his opening statement in the concerto, and a new breed of guitarist is born.

The rest of the first movement calls for the player to explore the range of the guitar in a variety of ways: complex single note passages that rapidly alternate between the first string and the basses, contrapuntal playing on the seventeenth fret (high A), fast scales up to the highest positions, rasgueados on the inner strings, and flowing wind-like slurs in the left hand. All these techniques alternate back and forth, demanding versatility, flexibility, and great velocity and projection of sound, ranging from pianissimos to fortissimos.

The second movement requires a vast palette of colors to separate voices within a single line. The haunting melody of this movement is first played by the cor anglais. When it is sung by the guitar, it is presented with a great amount of ornamentation, that supports and adorns the main melody, but it must be so played so as never to obscure the legato singing quality of the theme. In order to achieve this, the right hand fingers have to play with the utmost independence and the left hand, in perfect synchronization with the right hand, must execute the pull-offs and hammers (ligados) with extreme precision and tonal control. This legato singing quality is supported by the left hand vibrato to keep the strings vibrating and singing.

Also in the second movement, the player must be able to execute trills that evolve into ascending scales, which also must fit perfectly with the rhythmic pulse of the orchestra. This movement asks for the extreme stretches needed to play thirds in the melody, while keeping an ostinato G sharp in the bass. Another technical requirement is for continuous arpeggios that require extreme speed and accuracy in both hands. This is an adaptation of a technique that is used in flamenco playing, which produces an arpeggio of eleven notes by coursing up and down the six strings of the guitar at one time. Rodrigo’s score requires this arpeggio technique to be repeated over and over without a rhythmic gap between the first and sixth string, while the left hand changes harmonies in the most minuscule space of time. These produce an unbroken, fluid cascade of notes, played with a continuous build-up of intensity that climaxes with fortissimos rasgueados reaching up to the highest positions on the neck. This powerfully emotional movement ends with harmonics whose sounds ascend to that divine place from where Joaquin Rodrigo received the inspiration for this magical work.

The third movement is a constant flourish of technical difficulties. It begins with a contrapuntal exposition of the theme, and ends with a very rapid descending scale of ligado slurs starting on the nineteenth fret. Between are more contrapuntal variations, arpeggios whose patterns never repeat, single line melodies with strong accents on full, brilliant chords, and numerous scale passages whose unprecedented speed requirements explore new ranges of the guitar. All of this movement must sound as easy and free as possible, requiring (and resulting in) a new standard by which guitar virtuosity was to be judged for the next fifty years.

Rodrigo’s challenge to guitar technique was continued with his composition of many wonderful solo pieces, such as Entre olivares, Bajando de la meseta, Dos preludios, Elogio de la guitarra, Invocacion y danza (a work I am presently studying, and which I will record in its original, extremely difficult – but wonderful – version). Junta al Generalife, and Pajaros de primavera. These compositions demand that the guitarist continually look for new techniques of playing.

The standards of virtuosity set by the Concierto de Aranjuez in 1939 were only to be surpassed by Rodrigo himself in Concierto madrigal and Concierto para una fiesta. I feel very privileged to have premiered Concierto andaluz with my father and brothers, Concierto madrigal with my brother Angel, and Concierto para una fiesta, which was written for me and which again set a new standard of technique for the guitar.

I will treasure the memory of all the time that I have spent working so closely with the Maestro to prepare these concertos, as well as many of his solo works. It is with the deepest gratitude, love and admiration for Joaquin Rodrigo in the celebration of his 90^th birthday that I dedicate to him my soon-to-be-complete recording of his complete works for the guitar.

Maestro, as a guitarist I salute you. As a musician, I adore you. And as your friend, I will always love, respect and admire you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAESTRO!

Pepe Romero, 1991