Guitarist strums to classical beat

Author: Andrew Throdahl

The guitar has a comparable range, flexibility and variety of timbre to any other popular solo instrument. Why then, is its repertoire limited to every imaginable pop song, volumes of Spanish and Latin American music and a splattering of Baroque music? When push comes to shove, the guitar really is not limited at all in its repertoire, and yet Feb. 14's concert in the Mahaney Center for the Arts Concert Hall may have come as a shock to audience members expecting the usual classical guitar fare.

The concert, given by Chinese guitar virtuoso Xuefei Yang - the first classical guitarist to be enrolled in a Chinese conservatory - presented the guitar's past and future, offering classics in addition to the broadened horizons of newer works. As polished in her appearance (decked out in a silky slip) as in her playing, Yang seemed to encounter no major technical obstacles. She was capable of emitting a glassy tone in her high register. She was equipped with a rather surprising dynamic range. To add to her technical achievements, her playing was especially sensitive to interpretation.

"Asturias" by Albéniz, a staple of the classical repertoire, was taken slightly slower than usual, and Goss's contemporary suite "Three Pieces from Raise the Red Lantern" (commissioned by Xuefei Yang) was played with the same respectful meticulousness as Rodrigo's "Tres Piezas." The first three works of the program, by scions of the guitar tradition (Albéniz, Barrios and Rodrigo), made "Three Pieces" all the more astonishing. The technique required to play this work seemed especially innovative - if not pianistic. Lisztian arpeggios whirled beneath a continuous melody in the first movement, and rustic glissandi and other "special effects" (a castanet-like contraption attached to her foot acted as a metronome) kept the third movement engaging.

The next work on the program, Yang's transcription of Granados' piano work "Valses Poéticos," a Spaniard's take on the Viennese waltz, was perhaps the loveliest music of the evening. With the added complication of more pianistic textures - this time blockier chords - Yang played as effortlessly as she had in the earlier works. On the whole it was a fine transcription, although at times faster melodic passages, which would have been crystal clear on a piano, came off as muddy, suggesting that the transcription bordered on the unplayable. In these faster passages, Yang could have tried to convey the structure more lucidly - simply by breathing between phrases or taking time over cadences. The charm of the more conventional passages muted any significant skepticism.

The subsequent work on the program, "Two Pieces from Latin America" by Antonio Lauro, consisting of the melancholic "El Condor Pasa" and the rhythmically riddled "Seis Por Derecho," emphasized the drastic differences between the Spanish and Latin American guitar traditions. Lauro's starker, more quartal harmonies contrasted nicely with the more conservative harmonies of, say, "Asturias." "Seis Por Derecho" verged on the confusion heard in the faster sections of the Granados due to its difficult three-four, six-eight juxtaposition, but any muddled passages seemed in keeping with the character. In fact, an interpretation of more reckless abandon might have been preferable.

Yang's tendency to casually tune the guitar between movements was sometimes too casual, at times became lost in the opening of the next movement or work, as was the case between the Lauro and the fantastic closing, "Sonata," by Cuban-born Leo Brouwer. With formidable technical challenges, powerful musical material and a glittering finale, a work of this ilk deserves as much preemptive silence as possible. Of all the works on the program, the Brouwer sonata had the most to say, with a haunting ostinato in the first movement that stayed with the listener long after applause died off, and rich Bergian chords in the second movement that seemed to describe warm Havana nights. The aforementioned finale was an admirable toccata that brought to mind Villa-Lobos or Ginastera.

The first of two encores was the famous tango "La Cumparsita," but it was played with an undanceable amount of rubato. Yang's pleasant on-stage demeanor and prompt "encoring" suggested that she not only loved to play, but she loved to play for such a receptive Vermont audience.

Although she received a standing ovation, the applause were not as ecstatic as they probably would have been were she a pianist, violinist or vocalist - in other words, were she playing a fully evolved, familiarized instrument. It is difficult not to be enthusiastic about a musician like this who chooses to pursue an unfamiliar path for a classical musician, without compromising her integrity. Xuefei Yang is a true virtuoso - one who makes no memorable mistakes, explores her instrument's boundaries and has a complete command of the music. She renders most other guitarists obsolete.