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RECITAL REVIEW

Horacio Gutiérrez

August 27, 2006

Horacio Gutiérrez

Photo by
Christian Steiner

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Poetic Pianissimo

By Scott MacClelland

According to his concert biography, Horacio Gutiérrez “is a strong advocate of contemporary American composers.” In that case, the popular New York-based pianist missed an opportunity on Sunday afternoon in his recital at Carmel’s Sunset Center, selecting instead from familiar fare by Chopin, Debussy, and Liszt.

Solo piano recitals are rare in Carmel, yet a crowd of piano lovers (teachers and students included) filled the rows and gave generous applause to the opening Sonata Op. 1, by Alban Berg. In Gutiérrez’s hands, the 1908 work was haunted by the ghost of Liszt, particularly for such non-tonal flirtations as Nuages gris. Indeed, the sonata, described by Glenn Gould as “among the most auspicious Opus Ones ever written,” begins the same way, with a rising three-note arpeggio of a fourth plus a tritone. Like Liszt, Berg never abandons tonality, and Gutierrez filled in any ambiguities with lush sonorities.

Highlights after that came from Chopin’s Preludes, Op. 28; Debussy’s Images, Book 1; and a miscellany of Liszt’s warhorses. Gutiérrez brought out the expressiveness of those preludes that ask for it, and skittered through the rest with pianistic flair. Where tunefulness was desired, he savored without sentimentality. Where storm was in order, he thundered. Moments of bravura were skillfully deployed, though sometimes understated.

The ripples of No. 3 in G were quicksilver; the yearning of No. 4 in E Minor, wistful; and No. 15 in D-flat — the apex of the entire collection with its range of moods — elicited the artist’s poetic thoughtfulness, the piece contained only by its context as one among many. No. 18 in F Minor sounded like Schumann, while the portentous chords of No. 20 in C Minor faded, as it must, into sheepish irresolve. Bluster à la Rachmaninoff punctuated the set with No. 24 in D Minor.

True to form

In the Debussy, color, sparkle, and shimmer all got a lift. The works pay homage to Chopin, in their way, but with added sensuality in abundance. Gutiérrez avoided tricks that some performers fall back on, such as underlining some of the effects as if they require impressionism — which Debussy railed against. Still, the climactic gestures of Reflets dans l’eau and the proto-Gershwinesque harmonies came across vivaciously. The title of the last of the three movements, the animated Mouvement, is probably more apt than the second, Hommage à Rameau, since the Baroque master hardly figures here, even by allusion. (If Debussy resented being called impressionistic, why did he give so many of his pieces pictographic titles?)

While Liszt’s nontonal pieces are among his most intriguing, not to mention influential, it was with the prestigious filigree of the glittering Au bord d’une source that Gutiérrez chose to open his final set. From the composer’s Swiss “year of pilgrimage,” it might as well have been a postcard from the fountains at Tivoli. From the Italian “year of pilgrimage,” Gutiérrez chose the popular tone poem inspired by Petrarch’s 104th sonnet, a self-absorbed complaint over unrequited love, which he played with yearning twinge and sighing resignation.

At last, the bravura barnburner of the day, Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1 capped the performance with passionate abandon (read: a few missed notes) and a fiery conclusion, standing in for any encore those assembled may have hoped for.

(Since 1978, Scott MacClelland has written music criticism and journalism for all the major newspapers on the Monterey Peninsula, and for the Metro papers in Santa Cruz and San Jose. During the same period, he has taught music history for Monterey Peninsula College. In recent years he has contributed articles to Strings magazine.)

©2006 Scott MacClelland, all rights reserved