This week, I got to experience one of my favorite moments of the whole year: the first taste of sunshine that wakes us up from hibernation, melts away the worries of winter, and lets us know spring is finally on its way! Fittingly enough, it was at this moment that I came across one of the sunniest, most uplifting and invigorating programs I’ve seen on medici.tv: the extraordinary Gabriela Montero at the piano with the Orchestra of the Americas in a radiant celebration of Latin American music.
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Unlike the majority of classical soloists who mostly stick to written repertoire, Venezuelan piano wizard Montero is known for spicing up her concerts with improvisations. She takes simple melodies proposed by her audiences and almost instantaneously creates breathtaking piano pieces with shades of Rachmaninov or Liszt. At this concert in Frutillar, Chile, Montero opens her time on stage with an improvisation on the main melodic motif from Gracias a la vida (Thanks to Life) — a song written and composed by Chilean folk singer-songwriter Violeta Parra, made famous by Argentine singer Mercedes Sosa — suggested by her enthusiastic Chilean audience. With the initial notes under her fingers, she starts to add in left-hand chords before transforming the simple melody into a plaintive, Bach-esque prelude which grows into an incredible journey through Montero’s musical consciousness, audibly influenced by both Western classical and Latin American musical styles. As the camera pans from the stage, we see that her audience is clearly enraptured, not only by the beauty of the music, but also, for the Chileans in the audience, by the poignancy and nostalgia of hearing a melody they hold so dear in a brand-new way.
Montero improvises on Gracias a la vida
Then comes the star of the show, Montero’s own “Latin” Piano Concerto, a highly virtuosic, flamboyant ode to the pianist-composer’s heritage. I was swept away by moments of complex dance rhythms (mambo, salsa, bolero, Venezuelan dances), vibrant syncopation, and sophisticated dialogue between the piano and orchestra. Amongst the joy and celebration, though, there are some powerful moments that suggest a tender, more melancholy side to the story told by the concerto. Montero describes the work as “a chiaroscuro reflection on who we are as a continent, dark and light… It has all the rhythms, the charm, and the sensuality that people love about Latin America — but unfortunately, those characteristics keep the world from actually noticing what’s really going on. So it’s not a political piece, but it’s a statement: Not everything that glitters is gold.” Montero’s concerto shows how music can represent both a celebration of culture and belonging, as well as the hardships and complex realities of human life.
An extract from the third movement, Allegro venezolano, of Montero’s “Latin” Piano Concerto
A beautifully poignant moment from the concerto’s first movement, Mambo
Montero finishes as she started with another epic improvisation, this time accompanied by the fantastic maraquero (maraca player) Max, who exploded my vision of what was possible on a pair of maracas. This time around, the melody spawns of its own accord without audience input, twisting and diving down the keys of the piano, trying on the shape of several Latin-American dance styles for size, in an extraordinarily virtuosic showcase of piano prowess and spontaneous creativity.
Montero’s second improvisation, accompanied by Max the maraquero
The concert closes with the orchestra’s exuberant rendition of “Tico-Tico no fubá” (Sparrow in the Cornmeal), an orchestral arrangement of the Brazilian choro song by Zequinha de Abreu. Complete with flags from across the Americas, incredible instrumental solos, and dancing musicians, the closing performance is one of pure joy and cross-national pride — a guaranteed pick-me-up!
One of the most joyful moments of orchestral music-making you’ll see this year!
There are few soloists who draw me into their world quite like Montero. Her Piano Concerto is not just a breathtaking piece of music, but a powerfully personal ode to her Latin-American culture. As for her improvisations, I can’t say I have seen anything quite like them on the classical stage before, perhaps because it takes a rare set of skills and incredible amounts of passion to truly make it work — and Gabriela Montero has it all.
