Guitarra Magazine Article

An Afternoon with two great Spaniards
by James Sherry

Joaquin Rodrigo, James Sherry, Victoria Rodrigo

This is a recollection of an afternoon in Madrid with the Spanish composer, Joaquin Rodrigo, and the guitarist, Andres Segovia. Accompanying me on these encounters was my friend and traveling companion, Enrique Ceano-Vivas. Efforts will be made in trying to include every important detail of the occasion for the benefit of the guitarists reading this article. This is possibly the only interview with the great composer, Rodrigo, ever to appear in a guitar publication.

The time is April, 1971, a Sunday afternoon. We had arrived in Madrid the day before and I was anxious to call upon as many guitar notables as possible. Of course, my first choices were Rodrigo and Segovia. My friend, Enrique, said that since it was siesta we could call on Rodrigo for Enrique had met him previously and knew that Rodrigo and his wife did not follow the Spanish custom (rest period in the afternoon).

On our way to Rodrigo's apartment, I could not help but notice the stark loneliness of the Deserted streets. There were slivers of sunlight slicing through here and there highlighting the cobbled stone streets of old Madrid. One could easily conceive the fascinating effect this sight and many other picturesque sights had on such great Spanish artists as Lorca, El Greco, Segovia, and Rodrigo.

As we neared Rodrigo's apartment we could hear beautiful Spanish rhythms winding their way throughout the balconied streets. Approaching Rodrigo's door, the music of the piano was so marvelous we waited at least 15 minutes or more before we knocked.

Rodrigo's wife, Victoria, who, to our surprise, was the one playing the piano, answered our knock. (Unknown to us at the time was the fact that Sra. Rodrigo was a great concert performer.)

Joaquin Rodrigo at the piano

Sra. Rodrigo proved to be a wonderful hostess. Her kindness overwhelmed us. As we entered the living room Joaquin Rodrigo greeted us. After a warm handshake, the Rodrigos escorted us around the apartment. There was a mixture of Spanish and Turkish decor (Sra. Rodrigo is of Turkish decent). Paintings and sculptures of Turina and Manuel de Falla were abundant. The sculptures seemed to be placed prominently. Perhaps, due to the Maestro's blindness, (blind at the age of three), the sculptures were placed, I assumed, so that he may feel the features of these composers. Present, also, was a head sculpture of Sr. Rodrigo.

The apartment was old and charming and most of all you could feel that this was the place where all the great music from the mind of Rodrigo was created. We then entered the music room where we were captivated by the vivid portrait of a beautiful ballerina which Sra. Rodrigo was proud to announce was their daughter, a Prima Ballerina in Paris.

We settled down to coffee and began to talk about the music that Sr. Rodrigo composed for the guitar. Within minutes, the talk focused upon his greatest endeavor for the guitar, the Concerto de Aranjuez.

I wondered why the concerto was dedicated to Regino Sainz de Ia Maza rather than Segovia. Rodrigo said that the concerto was conceived in his mind during the Second World War. Unfortunately, Segovia was not in Spain at that time and Rodrigo was uncertain when or if he would ever see him again. Rodrigo explained that if he had waited until the war had ended to write this masterpiece, the mood and spirit might have escaped him. Consequently, the dedication went to Sainz de la Maza, a fine guitarist who happened to be in Spain at the time and was able to collaborate with Rodrigo as he wrote the composition.

Andres Segovia and James Sherry

Speaking of guitarists, I explained to the Rodrigos that the United States was producing a fine group of young guitarists, among them, Angel and Pepe Romero, Michael Lorimer and Christopher Parkening. I had at the time Parkening's new Bach album and they asked to hear it. As the record played on, Rodrigo grasped my hand as if we were friends for many years. Perhaps there is a comradeship that great music inspires. (I will continue the discussion of how this event led to Parkening accompanying Rodrigo on his Rodrigo Festival in Japan in a future article.)

Our visit with the Rodrigos was further enhanced when Sr. Rodrigo played the piano for us. We listened and dreamed.

Upon parting, the Rodrigos promised to correspond, a promise that was kept with many treasured letters and cards.

It was late afternoon when we left the Rodrigo's apartment and a few minutes later we were knocking at Maestro Segovia's door. Our anticipation was relieved when Andres Segovia opened the door and greeted us warmly. He was surprised to see us in Madrid.

Upon entering the apartment we were entranced by the carved beauty of the Old Spanish furniture. One could easily see by the splendor of the decor that Segovia's taste for beauty goes beyond the guitar. The view from Segovia's apartment was breath taking. The French windows overlooked the Concha de Espina, one of Spain's most beautiful boulevards.

As the three of us settled down with some wine, we talked about guitar markers. Segovia told interesting stories of his favorite luthiers, Fleta, Hauser, and Ramirez. Most of all, he expressed his frustration in his life-long attempt to find a perfect guitar involving equal resonance throughout the fingerboard combined with a splendid quality of sound. He could not accept the fact that the three greatest guitar makers of all time could not fabricate an instrument of these qualities for him.

Andres Segovia and Enrique Cenavo-Vivas

Having mentioned that we had just visited Segovia's close acquaintances, the Rodrigos, this quickly became the center of our conversation. I asked Segovia why he never played the Concerto de Aranjuez. Segovia answered that some day he would, but he would have to change some of the passages and he also felt that it was written in the wrong key. Another surprising comment from Segovia concerning the concerto was that it was becoming more and more commercialized, including its performance by some jazz quartets, namely, Dizzy Gillespie. Segovia jokingly said of the French that they have made a love song called 'Aranjuez Mon Amour'.

At the closing of our long conversation of the guitar, guitarists and music, we could hear Segovia's infant son loudly waking in the next room. As night approached we said good-bye to the greatest guitarist of our time.

Later that evening, in the cafe of our hotel, Enrique and I discussed the events of the afternoon and how congenial both Rodrigo and Segovia were to us even though neither visit was prearranged or planned. Of course we expected no less. Rodrigo and Segovia are Spanish gentlemen of an era, which no longer exists, and it was this gracious, yet firey environment of old Spain that forged the gentility and artistry of these two great Spaniards.