The name of Uruguayan guitarist Alvaro Pierri (above) has fleetingly come into my consciousness thanks largely to Dr Anabella Freris (organiser of The Joy of Music Festival), and I finally got to witness him in person. And what a revelation! On the strength of this recital, Alvaro Pierri deserves to be ranked alongside John Williams, Julian Bream, Sharon Isbin and Eduardo Fernandez (just to name drop a few luminaries) as one of the great guitarists of our time.

The recital was one of great variety but its beginning was strangely anti-climactic. Frankly speaking, J.S.Bach’s Trio Sonata in C major (BWV.529), in a transcription for guitar and piano, just did not work. In this repertoire, the two instruments coalesced like oil and water. The timbres of both instruments (something to do with steel strings?) are too similar to provide a great contrast in sound through the thicket of counterpoint, yet too dissimilar to cohere seamlessly like a guitar or piano duo. So despite Pierri and Rogé’s obvious artistry and industry, its impact was limited.

Not so for Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s Fantasia Op.145 in its original form, written far more idiomatically for guitar and violin. Its two movements, a slow introduction (Andantino) followed by a fast finale (Vivacissimo), was a joy to the senses, the post-Romantic style posing little resistance to the listener. It also helped that Rogé was unobtrusive, allowing Pierri to weave his magic in an understated way.

The first full-blooded treat for the evening was the Three Concertante Dances by Cuban composer Leo Brouwer. In this version for guitar, piano and string quartet, the ensemble brought the house down. Scored like a guitar concerto (Brouwer wrote ten actual guitar concertos), its three varied movements showed off the myriad possibilities of guitar writing. The opening movement began like a toccata, with repeated notes, and a martial rhythm dictated, punctuated with Piazzolla-like outbursts.

Pierri plays with sensitivity which belies the sheer virtuosity required for the score. Never acting like a prima donna soloist with big outlandish gestures, he simply allowed the music, and those of his collaborators, to do the talking.

The tonal palette of the nocturnal slow movement was equally mesmerising, and the extended solo passages further confirmed Pierri’s absolute mastery. The foot-tapping finale brought back the fireworks, with its frequent changes in key and the simple but very effective device of tapping on the guitar’s body. The four string players of the London Chamber Orchestra and Pascal Rogé responded to Pierri’s quiet but confident leadership with the kind of professionalism that distinguish longstanding musical partners. Just about perfect.

Pierri’s artful reticence then became a mirror to Bulgarian violinist Vasko Vassilev’s (right) unbuttoned exuberance in Astor Piazzolla’s four movement Histoire de Tango. It is totally believable that Vassilev, concertmaster and Creative Producer of Royal Opera House Covent Garden, descended from the great gypsy violinists of old. His free-wheeling and improvisatory way with the music was a breath of fresh air not usually encountered in the concert hall.

From pianissimo to fortissimo, the drollest of adagios to prestissimos, the melancholy of the milonga to the rip-roaring tango, here was a white-hot performance that would top even the headiest, alcohol-influenced elaborations of Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli. One would even swear seeing the strings smoking. Okay, I exaggerate somewhat, but it was just that good! Later in the evening, I learn that this was a first ever collaboration between Pierri and Vassilev. Now to find that jaw of mine on the floor…

The LCO quartet returned to join the ever-busy Pierri in Mauro Giuliani’s familiar Quintet in A major (Op.30), arguably his most famous work. Usually heard as a concerto, the quartet’s opening tutti set the mood for this late-classical early- Romantic piece dating from circa 1812. The instrumental virtuosity of Hummel, Weber and Paganini meeting the bel canto musings of Rossini might be an apt description for this music.

There was no doubt whom the grand soloist was here, as Pierri strode forth with vision and purpose, but still maintaining that self-effacing manner. What distinguishes him is his richness and fullness of sound, steadiness of rhythm, backed up by an unimpeachable technique. The balance of guitar and accompaniment a quattro was just right, with the give and take of a silky-smooth basketball team.  The second movement’s serenade – a siciliano - gave ample opportunities for the guitar to display its warmth while the concluding Polonaise (long time followers of Symphony 92.4 will recognise this) was the life-affirming romp that ended the concert on a high.  

True to form, Pierri’s well-chosen encore was more reflective than outwardly virtuosic, the shifting harmonies of Villa-Lobos’ Etude No.4 were so absorbing as to render the restless audience speechless. As it held its collective breath, one could hear a pin drop. Totally sublime.

By Chang Tou Liang 

 

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