By David Hennessee
Hello again dear blog readers. LTNB (Long Time No Blog). Patty was quite correct in writing that I’ve been very busy – this quarter I’ve been teaching two classes I haven’t done in a few years (British literature 1832-1914 and Great Books) so I’ve had to refresh my memory on texts and curriculum. An upside was that I got to revisit one of my favorite novels: Wilkie Collins’ “The Woman in White.” Published in 1860, it was the first “sensation novel” – a blend of the domestic novel (about love, marriage, and family life), the Gothic novel, and the detective novel. Think “Pride and Prejudice” meets “Twilight” meets “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.” I highly recommend it. It is, however, 635 pages long, so it takes commitment, and I didn’t think I could get away with blogging about what’s been on my mind: things like how Collins’ innovative narrative structure relates to changing 19th-century notions of gentlemanly behavior…
January was also a very busy month for me and many other symphony musicians. There was a Cal Poly student/faculty/local music scene folks all-Bach concert, then the Brandenburgs in the Mission, and then the February Classics concert with Shunske Sato. I had to miss the Damon Castillo concert but I heard it was a lot of fun. So much music!
Right now we’re getting ready for the next concert featuring guitarist Jose Maria Gallardo del Rey and violinist Anabel Garcia del Castillo. Jose Maria is well known to local audiences, but this is Anabel’s first time here. I did a little Googling and found this blurb about her:
“Una excelentisima violinista: una tecnica nitida y matematica, junto a una
sonoridad de gran belleza y plenitud, asi como una diccion de incuestionable vigor comunicativo.” (Cataluna y Musica)
I had three years of Spanish way back when, so I kind of got the gist: she’s really good. With the help of a translator program, here’s what I think it’s saying:
“A most excellent violinist: a technique spotless and mathematical, along with a sound of great beauty and fullness, as well as a clarity of unquestionably unreserved power.”
This will be an exciting concert in part because we’re playing a world premiere, a piece called “Glosas,” written by Jose Maria for guitar, violin, and orchestra, and I hear they’re bringing a percussionist with them from Spain. That should help us a lot, as the piece is very flamenco-esque, and those rhythms can be difficult.
New music is fun to play; it’s like traveling to a foreign country: exciting, a little bit scary, and with a sense of adventure. It’s also challenging because there’s no “tradition” to fall back on. For example, bowings (I wonder if I can write a blog and NOT mention bowings…). In the standard repertoire, there are usually certain ways bowings are done, or at least there are a couple of familiar options. Not so with new music. You have to figure out the best way to do it, what’s in character with the music, and what will work technically. Fortunately for us, Anabel did most of the bowings for “Glosas,” though with bowings it seems like you’re never finished. Just this morning, as I was lecturing on imagery of light and dark in Joseph Conrad’s novella “Heart of Darkness,” I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. It wasn’t Conrad calling to say “you’re getting it all wrong!” It was Mike Nowak calling to tell me about a bowing change.
I was reflecting a bit on what a versatile instrument the guitar is. It’s played everywhere from concert halls, to beer-soaked dive bars, kindergarten classrooms, around campfires or beach bonfires; it’s featured in life-affirming lesbian folk rock:
Back in the days when I went to beer-soaked dive bars to listen to life-affirming lesbian folk rock, people used to say “why don’t you bring your viola next time?” I just didn’t think Brandenburg #6 would work have worked in that context.
I attended a music school once that had a separate “guitar wing” of the practice rooms. This was done because the acoustic guitar is a quiet instrument, and the guitarists’ delicate plucking would have been drowned out if next door to a trumpet player blasting away, a pianist diligently practicing scales, or a violist talking about last night’s episode of “Melrose Place.” I used to hang out in the “guitar wing” when things got stressful; it was very relaxing and centering and a bit melancholy.
Which is the feeling one gets from the best-known work we’re playing, Rodrigo’s “Concierto de Aranjuez” with its famous Adagio.
Rodrigo was inspired to write this piece by the gardens at Palacio Real de Aranjuez, which makes sense as it definitely evokes nostalgia. It’s also one of those pieces that is very sad and very beautiful at the same time. I was interested to learn that Rodrigo’s wife Victoria wrote in her autobiography that the slow movement evokes the happiness of their honeymoon but also the sadness of the miscarriage of their first pregnancy.
Legendary jazz musician Miles Davis did a famous reading of this piece on his album “Sketches of Spain.”
Davis wrote in his autobiography (Miles, the Autobiography) that Rodrigo
“didn’t like the record, and he – his composition – was the reason I did ‘Sketches of Spain’ in the first place. Since he was getting a royalty for the use of the song on the record, I told his person who had played it for him, ‘let’s see if he likes it after he starts getting those big royalty checks.’ I never heard anything about or from him after that.”
See you soon! David














































