At Beverly’s historic and newly renovated Cabot Theater on Sunday, Music Director Donald Palma along with guitarist Jérôme Mouffe closed the season for Symphony by the Sea with “Sketches of Spain”: a five-part ode to some of La Roja’s greatest composers.
The afternoon commenced with the Overture to Los Esclavos Felices by Juan Crisostomo de Arriaga. Translated “The Happy Slaves,” the piece is a perfect example of why this composer is often referred to as the Spanish Mozart. The tonality and structure of the piece is sui-Amadeus. The silken opening channeled pastoral coloring and ambiance before quickly transitioning into a spritely flourish of strings; meanwhile, the cellos and bases provided a stalwart foundation to the melody which was carried by the rest of the orchestra, particularly the violins, violas, brass, and woodwinds.
Guitarist Mouffe, who hails from Belgium and is a faculty member at both the New England Conservatory and Bridgewater State University, exuded nothing short of stellar chops as he tackled Joaquin Rodrigo’s three-movement Concierto de Aranjuez for Guitar and Orchestra. He began by strumming barre chords, but quickly scaled the thick neck of his instrument fingering notes with blithe acumen. The 35-member orchestra accompanied Mouffe with beautiful synchronicity and elegant harmonies. At times, the volume of the former overshadowed the latter, which should have been avoidable as Mouffe played through an amplifier. Still, his fingers flowed over the entire length of his fretboard with fluid dexterity giving sublime texture to the Concerto.
With immense speed and precision, Mouffe wove a flamenco feel throughout the first movement (Allegro con spirito), which was indeed spirited! The Cabot, which celebrated its 100th anniversary six years ago, was the home of Le Grand David and His Own Spectacular Magic Company from 1977 to 2012. On this afternoon, it hosted another magician — Mouffe, who pulled notes from the hollow of his nylon-stringed instrument with subtle expertise.
Those unfamiliar with Rodrigo’s concerto would recognize familiar passages in the Adagio that followed. As I wrote on my steno-pad, the second movement exhibited nothing short of “GORGEOUS FINERING!” (Yes, in all caps with an exclamation point.) Mouffe’s playing made me (as a guitarist) exclaim “Mmmm…” under my breath. I savored each note and arpeggiated chord, vocalizing my gratification the same way I would if imbibing a glass of Stags’ Leap Cabernet Sauvignon. It was delectable and lingered on my palate, serving as the appetizer to the meal my wife and I enjoyed afterwards.
During the same movement, the oboe delicately echoed Mouffe’s fingering, as he would deviate into pensive trills that would send the audience to their feet had he been Eddie Van Halen. With structures that almost sounded discordant though strangely accurate, Mouffe conjured chords that sounded like a summer dusk if it could speak. Such technique takes a lifetime to master. It is no wonder that Mouffe, now in his early 40s, had been playing the guitar since he was five. As he said during his introduction, he always imagined developing the requisite skill to tackle such a formidable piece of music. Clearly, he had. Rodrigo’s concerto could easily have fallen flat in less adept hands.
Allegro gentile (the third movement) sounded, as its name suggests, vivacious and bouncy. Mouffe’s hands alternated between strumming chords and fingering individual notes in such a complementary way that it almost sounded as if there were two guitarists on stage: a rhythm player supporting a lead, as one sees in most rock ensembles. Solo guitar and orchestra synchronized nicely in terms of volume, attack, and intricacy, notwithstanding a couple clinkers from the string section.
As the third movement came to an end, I wondered what a flamboyant flamenco dancer would add to the such a vivacious soundscape. A subtle finale led to admiring applause sending the audience into intermission.
Palma introduced the second half with another mini-lecture; these are becoming more common at classical music concerts, and I hope to hear more of them in the future. Palma’s words, informed by scholarly research coupled with his vast experience, served as an insightful guide to the music that followed.
Joaquin Turina’s La Oracion del Torrero (“The Bullfighter’s Prayer”), originally for four lutes and arranged by the composer for string orchestra, began with a supplication, exhibiting overtones of Debussy and Gershwin, reflecting the Aristotelean concept of beginning a play or an epic in medias res (literally, “in the middle of things”). The opening notes suggest we are post-prayer and are given a vision of the matador’s nerves with a flurry of strings that resolves into a more contemplative mode. The cinematic tone conjured a firmament with ample room to breathe. Maybe this prayer was first lifted to such an expansive sky at Madrid’s Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas. Despite minor imprecisions in the strings’ unisons and octaves, Palma’s delicate conjuring induced them to intimate birds in languid flight fluttering the selection for a subtle close.
This served as an ideal segue into Pablo Casals’s El Cant dels Ocells (“The Song of the Birds”), a selection the composer played at almost every concert, including a November 13, 1961 performance at the White House for President Kennedy. Timpani and dual trumpets evoked a regal procession while oboes, bassoons, and strings intimated subtle movements. Timpanist Aaron Trant also played a cymbal and a woodblock, using the latter to pantomime a horse galloping to the song of his winged colleagues.
The five movements of de Falla’s El Sombrero de Tres Picos, Suite No. 1 played attacca, employed a sundry of musica motifs: orchestral, dance, pastoral, and even cinematic. In terms of the latter, the overarching tone was incidental at times before morphing into the jovial and dramatic. This “three-cornered hat” is not a cushy piece to play. It highlighted the talent, speed, and precision (not to mentioned the synchronization) of each section of the orchestra. The strings moved with agility. The reeds exuded an almost Arabic feel. The finale was reserved for oboist Jonathan Knox for whom this was his final performance after forty-one years with SBS. Palma ushered him center stage for a standing ovation displaying the personable grace with which he conducts SBS.
Palma and President Duffy were standing near the exit of the theater conversing as the crowed departed into sunlight. I paused to chat with them momentarily. I had to ask Palma what it was like working with former Pink Floyd frontman Roger Waters, one of my musical influences. “Roger was great,” Palma said as he spoke of their 2018 collaboration with the Bridgehampton Chamber Music Festival: Stravinsky’s Soldier’s Tale, written 100 years prior. Waters provided the narration and Palma played bass, which is the Floyd-frontman’s principal instrument.
As founding member of the famous Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, Palma continues to propel innovative programming at the helm of SBS. I await the 2026-2027 season which will feature Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, Vaughn Williams’ Lark Ascending, Brahms’s Violin Concerto, and, for the kids, Prokofiev’s children’s classic Peter and the Wolf.