From Havana to Spain with Joaquin Rodrigo
by Ana Maria Ruimonte
There wasn’t a green finch; I couldn’t see the waterbird, nor the pine forest nor the Castilian fields of grain… but, among the palms and the flourishing trees I saw a little hummingbird flying from flower to flower and moving its wings so fast. I couldn’t hear his singing, but the flute of Zorimé sounded to me like a green finch in the heart of Havana.
The guitar of Luis transported me from the leafy and green parks of Vedado to the gardens of the Palace of Aranjuez, and its fountains with sculptures of the 17th century; and with the clarinet of Monterrey and the flute of Alberto, I believed I had found myself suddenly on the outskirts of a little Castilian town in Valladolid, walking along the Duero River…
With the guitar of Galy, I imagined myself to be in a house with a patio, and in the patio a water well, while I was waiting for my love. When he finally arrived, about the third madrigal, I asked him where he had been, and he responded that he had been walking in the trees along the river…
I could see through the music how a shepherd took his flock of sheep around the walled castle of Torrelobatón, that had high towers of stone and surrounding it a deep mote, which I imagined it had been full of water with crocodiles and other dangerous animals in a time in the past, but now, it was dry for lack of rain…
With the piano of Huberal, I mysteriously appeared in the pine forest of Simancas, and I could hear the cuckoo bird which was hiding among the pines… Where are you, cuckoo? Where are you? And going musically hand in hand with Rodrigo toward eastern Spain, we arrived at a small town on the coast in Valencia. We could see high and far away an Arabic tower, that was lone, lost and abandoned nowadays, but I imagined a Moor there, looking out for the arrival of an invading boat, a long time ago…
But we really were in Centro Havana… Children running and playing in the wide streets among the broken cobblestones, a knife-sharpening-man and the ice cream-man passing while I was singing, and the fan overhead essential for that intense tropical heat… The ceiling of the house of Huberal is very high and there are big windows to the street, too, and his piano is gigantic, full of memories topped with awards and flowers, and hanging on the wall medals and certificates for his life dedicated to music in Cuba… The juices of tamarind and guava, the garapiña he made himself, and the yoghurt refreshed us and were really delicious… No better place and no better taste than there!
And between juices and fans, and tropical gardens, Joaquín Rodrigo in the countryside of Castilia and Valencia appeared and disappeared as the cuckoo bird in the pine trees on the mountains of Avila…
With Alejandro’s cello I felt like I was in an inn in La Mancha on a dark night, and I thought I saw don Alonso Quijada in his horse – he was then known as the caballero Don Quixote… And several minutes later hearing the piano of Mayté I found myself in a street in Madrid in a Spring afternoon, and the street was full of people with happy faces and lit by a yellow-orange light. But, it was a surprise when singing the Sephardic songs with odd scales full of accidentals and completely different intervals that captured our attention.
There, in Havana, how could it be possible that those scores by Joaquín Rodrigo could take us to so many diverse parts of beautiful Spain and to nostalgic times with friendly people? Only by means of his music: The songs of Joaquín Rodrigo.
Ana María Ruimonte, Spanish-American soprano, collaborates with the best Cuban musicians in the new CD “Con Rodrigo en Cuba” to commemorate the 20th Anniversary of Rodrigo’s death. Released by Owlsong and available on CD Baby, and Spotify, iTunes, Amazon and most other platforms. www.owlsong.com, www.ruimonte.us.
The photos of the group of musicians and the CD face are courtesy of Jorge Cruz.
The photos of El Maestro and Ana Maria in the beach are courtesy of Pedro Abascal
