All but unknown even a decade ago except among specialists, Spanish composer
Santiago de Murcia is the subject of a growing body of recordings.
Murcia traveled around Europe and eventually ended up in the colonial Mexican capital of Puebla, notating everything he heard and absorbing it into his music. The most striking result of this tendency were a set of pieces he composed in Mexico that incorporated African rhythms. These went by various names, including the Zarambeques (track 6) and Cumbées (track 8) heard here; the latter name perhaps shares a root with the "goombay" percussion heard by Caribbean travelers today. These forms were perhaps more effective in their vocal versions, with African phrases emerging amidst their Spanish texts, than in the present all-guitar recording. But this is a fabulous survey of
Murcia's art, and the guitar, with which
Murcia was closely associated throughout his career, holds the key to much of his music. What makes his works so compelling is not the occasional appearance of Africanisms, but the part they play in a full vision of Baroque music that is unlike any other. Its other legs are the familiar variation forms of Baroque music, known in their most characteristic guise in Spain as diferencias, and various Spanish folk rhythms, some of which were themselves of some non-European origin. These trends combine into music that is rhythmically kaleidoscopic and entirely fascinating, whether there are African elements involved or not. Brazilian Baroque guitarist
Cristina Azuma lays all this out in a program as enjoyable as it is intelligently constructed. She begins with a pair of passacalles, the variation form known in Italy as the passacaglia, moves on to African-inspired and folk pieces, and then, as a centerpiece, presents an obra, which is a French suite. The names of the dances are recognizable enough in their Spanish versions -- Zarabanda, Buree, Gabota -- as are the rhythms, but in
Azuma's hands they take on a different flavor from the suites of the French school. The rest of the program introduces more unusual forms: the predominantly vocal Marizápalos, the curiously named Los impossibles, the folkish Canarios and Villanos. Sample this part of the program for an idea of what
Murcia's guitar music is like -- the Marcha (track 21) that is hardly a march, the strangely compressed Menuet de Clarín (track 23), the utterly arresting 25-second Página (track 22). The Cumbées, at which the Inquisition was not amused, represented nothing less than an early example of Euro-African cultural fusion, and it seems to veritably demand further exploration. No doubt that is coming in the form of more
Murcia recordings, but for the present this is a good introduction to one aspect of his work. The only caveat is the church-recorded sound, which reduces the hot and daring to the stony and remote.