Reviews

JL TURINA. Piano Concerto; Violin Concerto
Por Erik Levi
(Review published in the BBC Music Magazine, january 2006) Whether or not José Luis Turina is related to his more famous predecessor Joaquín, both Spanish composers share a common fascination with exploring sumptuous instrumental colours. In the case of these two concertos, composed between the mid-1980s and the mid-'90s, José Luis is equally interested in the structural challenges posed by placing a virtuoso soloist against the background of an extravagantly scored orchestra. In both works he harnesses a highly eclectic musical language that allows for high levels of dissonance as well as moments of simplicity.
This directness of expression is immediately apparent in the arresting opening to the the Piano Concerto. A rhapsodic element eventually gains the upper hand with a sequence of extended piano cadenzas, followed by a section that is more scherzo-like in character. On first hearing, the work does not hang together quite as convincingly as the earlier Violin Concerto, its three movements inhabiting a more clearly defined musical character particularly notable for the stimulating dialogue between the violin and solo percussion. Fine performances by the original dedicatees of both works, captured in brilliant sound, make this an intriguing release.
Erik Levi

Performance: ***
Sound: ****



J. L. TURINA. Violin concerto. Piano concerto
By D.C.S.
(Review published in the magazine Ritmo. June 2005)


Almost a decade separates the two José Luis Turina concerts included in this recording, offering a glimpse into the creative trajectory of the Madrid-born composer, who was born in 1952. The Violin Concerto, composed in 1987 and considered by the author himself as a "general overview" of his work up to that point, provides a strong reflection of Turina's stance in a landscape where the breakdown of the avant-garde paradigm, along with a sense of liberation, also implied the triumph of an "anything goes" attitude. Turina positions himself at a distance from both phenomena, and thus the formal or linguistic emphasis does appear, but in a distorted way –“deviated” serialism in the second movement or instrumental texture play- while at the same time the concerto model is handled, its shape becoming fully and unapologetically affirmed in the Piano Concerto, commissioned by the Canary Islands Festival and premiered there in 2000. In this work, the solo writing is dominated by a sort of neovirtuosity, both in its technical demands and in the motifs that unfold across its three uninterrupted movements. Dedicated performances by Víctor Martín and Guillermo González, always under the attentive and meticulous direction of Víctor Pablo Pérez.



J. L. TURINA. VARIOUS
By J.P.
(Review published in n. 203 de the magazine Scherzo. December, 2005)

Based on the idea of the "symphonic impossibility of the piano," a concept by Turina that refers to the timbral disparity between the piano and the orchestra (i.e., the impossibility of blending and confusing the timbres of the orchestra and the piano, which will always stand out and whose place is that of the soloist), this composer presents a work where the confrontation inherent to the concerto genre is its main characteristic. Nevertheless, the listener will notice how Turina attempts to accustom us from the very start of the piece to subtle orchestral timbres that make the various instruments and sections of the orchestra sound as one, as if they were the different registers of a vast organ. This is not mere talk -listen closely: You’ll hear a sequence that starts in one instrument and finishes in another, all of it sounding as logical as if one were moving from the deepest bass notes of the piano to its most crystalline highs, almost like a blending of colors. Similarly, the textures thicken and simplify, both in the orchestra on one hand, and the piano on the other. Thus, brilliance and virtuosity are found both in the solo part (masterfully delivered by González, as is usual for him, with the fine taste that characterizes his performances across all repertoires) and in the orchestra (under the baton of Víctor Pablo Pérez, a guarantee in itself). Alongside this relatively recent composition (written between 1996 and 1997), we find another concerto with the violin as the soloist. This piece serves as a kind of summary of the composer’s creative approaches and techniques, dating from 1987. Here, the idea of confrontation persists, but this time it’s between "noise" (the orchestra, with a significant opening by the percussion) and "music" (represented by the violin). Its language is explained by a more or less free atonality, with touches of twelve-tone technique and some tonal attempts. The performance is excellent, with Víctor Martín making his instrument sing, sometimes amidst a tense and anguished soundscape.



J. L. TURINA. Piano concerto; Violin concerto
By Antón Piedrahíta Tirado
(Review published in the magazine Diverdi. 2005)

José Luis Turina (Madrid, 1952) is a master at concealing the intricate musical engineering -its play of weight, balance, and volume- behind a facade of great elegance, free from awkward additions or harshness. His compositions generally flow with a musicality that becomes evident to the attentive listener from the very first encounter. Yet beneath this virtuosity lies a deep understanding of sound materials, and a strong command of a constructive process rich in timbral effects, harmonic convergence, and thematic density. For instance, in his Piano Concerto (1996/97), composed in three uninterrupted movements, the initial thematic material evolves into a triumphant variation. Once the musical elements are introduced at the beginning of the first section, they quickly develop from multiple perspectives through a lively but balanced dialogue between the soloist (Guillermo González, who masterfully navigates the score’s complexities with his exquisite technique, especially suited for subtlety and iridescent arabesques) and the orchestra, before being rigorously varied again in the third movement. The central section, on the other hand, has an autonomous character, with the piano taking cues from the various orchestral instruments until it leads into a feverish stretta: the light and airy gradually transforms into something more solid and well-defined.
The other piece featured on this COL LEGNO recording, the Violin Concerto (1987), is described by the composer as a kind of "general overview" of his work up until that date. It consists of three clearly distinct movements. The first presents a timbral confrontation, with contrasts between the violin (Víctor Martín, founder of the Orquesta de Cámara Española, showcasing his deep expressive ability as always) and an orchestra that generates a noisy backdrop from which the solo instrument emerges, employing a free atonal language (yet without producing any harshness). The second movement was initially composed according to the strict rules of twelve-tone technique, though Turina introduces a playful twist (the suppression of the G note) that disrupts any rigidity and undermines the strictness; here, the dynamic drive and chromaticism are quite striking, with the percussion adding interesting rhythmic accents. The final section develops largely within a tonal atmosphere that, as the movement progresses, returns to the chaotic mood of the opening, thus closing a circular structure that reflects, repositions, and recapitulates the earlier opposition between music and noise.
Víctor Pablo Pérez conducts the Tenerife Symphony Orchestra with intelligence and a steady hand, demonstrating that this ensemble is more than capable of tackling contemporary repertoire of this kind.