Since its founding in 1978, the Sinfónica de Minería has been committed to commissioning and premiering new works by Mexican composers. Over time, more than 50 works have been commissioned, some of which are already classics of our time, such as Voltage Concert by Gabriela Ortiz, Ficciones by Mario Lavista or Sonatina by Manuel Enriquez.
In this Summer Season 2024 we will celebrate the world premiere of the Canto de Macario by Antonio Juan-Marcos (1979), a work that immerses itself in the arid, ghostly and fascinating poetics of Juan Rulfo (specifically in the tale Macario contained in El llano en llamas).
The inspiration rulfiana in Mexican music is constant: Anacleto Morones by Víctor Rasgado, Comala by Ricardo Zohn or Murmurs of the Wasteland by Julio Estrada. However, these three examples have the human voice as a common element, something that does not have Canto de Macariowhose intentions are focused on expressing the character's inner life through instruments. Therefore, the protagonist is not represented within the orchestra by specific themes/instruments. It is a search for intimacy that departs from the programmatic to build a "musical grammar that expresses feelings and sensations".
At the Sinfónica de Minería, we invite you to the world premiere of the Canto de Macario this weekend during the inaugural program of our Summer Season 2024 (July 6 and 7 at the Nezahualcóyotl Concert Hall).
And what better way to delve into its mysteries than by talking to its creator? Here is our conversation with Antonio Juan-Marcos.
In his music I find a permanent poetic search. In the very titles of the works he installs words ("semilla", "sed", "Macario") that in themselves impose the need to construct sonorous atmospheres with certain descriptive, or at least atmospheric, demands. In the specific case of your Canto de Macario, this requirement clearly lies in exploring the intimacy of an enigmatic, innocent, faceless Rulfian character, full of sad and sinister echoes. Could you please share with us how you approach musically the following specific challenges present in the story?
- Frogs
I listened to recordings of frog songs. There was one in particular that interested me because it contained certain recognizable rhythmic patterns that the frogs sang, repeating and varying those patterns.
In my piece, I incorporate those rhythms, first at the end of the introduction (articulated by a percussionist playing woodblocks). Then, in the development of the piece, those rhythms become a complex polyphony that encompasses the 7 percussionists in this score.
- The circular narrative structure:
I incorporate a circular form in the piece but not through a descriptive attempt to evoke Macario waiting for the frogs to come out. The circularity lies in the use of the same chord at the beginning and at the end of the piece so that the perception of the sonority of the end reminds us of the beginning and leaves us with the sensation that the beginning could be resumed after the end. In thinking of this circular idea I also thought of T.S. Elliot, who wrote: "in my end is my beginning".
- Macario's intentions:
The whole piece has the intention of giving sound to the inner life of the character, to his feelings and his way of perceiving the world. But I do not try to describe any specific action or gesture. In that sense there is no programmatic intention in my piece. I try to create a musical grammar that expresses feelings and sensations.
- Macario's love for Felipa:
Yes, Macario's love for Felipa seemed to me a very powerful feeling of the character. It is a love full of desire, but I also perceive an innocence in the way the character lives those feelings, because I feel that he lives those emotions with naturalness, joy and tenderness. That is why I wrote a theme that starts right after the introduction, where the melody is first articulated by a flute in G, then by a piccolo and finally by a violin solo. This melody tries to reflect Macario's innocence (flutes) and love (solo violin).
- Macario's imaginary drum:
It is represented especially in a part of the development of the piece that ends in an orchestral tutti. It is a section with a lot of rhythmic and melodic polyphony. This polyphony is interrupted several times by other musical material much more stable, rhythmically speaking, where the strings take up the harmonies of the theme of love and innocence. In those more meditative passages that interrupt the polyphony, we hear a bass drum playing a rhythm from shawm music. For me, this is Macario's imaginary drum, which centers him and creates a referent (like a mantra) in the midst of his somewhat chaotic understanding of the world.
- The Mexican Revolution
There are musical references to the revolutionary song The Barzonwhich is transformed and recontextualized in my piece. El barzón provokes an ironic and somewhat acid sensation in me, which I try to maintain.
Mario Lavista always insisted that since World War I there has never been an ideal musical language (as for 300 years there was tonality). Nowadays, composers are born with endless possibilities of articulating sounds. In your case, does this abundance of possible languages pose a conflict for you? Has the uncertainty of how to write your music been a challenge in your career? Specifically in Canto de Macario, from which languages do you draw to bring the Rulfian poetics to a world of sounds?
It is undoubtedly a challenge to create a coherent musical language within the wide universe of possibilities that the twentieth and twenty-first centuries offer us to organize sounds.
My way of approaching this opening of compositional languages lies in going deeper and deeper into the following criteria:
- The search for a personal and coherent harmonic language. For me, harmony is the most structuring element of musical grammar. Almost always, when I start writing a new piece, I try to define the harmonies I am going to use.
- The plasticity of sound. I like to try to evoke, through the richness of sounds offered by the orchestra, textures, colors and atmospheres. As if we could paint with sound. Sometimes my music has been described as a "new Mexican impressionism".
- The importance of melody. Several of my instrumental pieces have the word ¨canto¨ in the title (Canto empedrado, Canto de semillas o Canto de Macario...) and much of my work is vocal (monodramas, song cycles, opera). In both my instrumental and vocal music, I try to create melodies that are expressive. They are often the medium in which the most intimate, the most vulnerable expression is embodied. If I think of the most direct way that both humans and animals express themselves musically, I would say that it is almost always by singing.
These 3 axes I have just described are present in all my work, including Canto de Macario. This piece also has citations from Mexican folklore (chirimía music and the song of El barzón), which are transformed to correspond to the harmonies I used to compose it.
Could you share with us how was the process of mounting this work with Carlos Miguel Prieto and the Minería Symphony Orchestra in preparation for its world premiere? How involved have you been in the process and how many variations has the score undergone during the process of hearing it played in an orchestra?
Maestro Prieto and I spoke several times about our shared interest in literature. He is an avid reader with a special taste for stories and suggested that I take inspiration from a story to create an orchestral piece. I have composed many of my pieces either freely inspired by the literature of our country to create instrumental music or by setting our literature to music in songs, monodramas and an opera.
Master Prieto suggested that I reread El llano en llamas and I chose Macario as a source of inspiration for this new piece. Macario is a story that goes straight to the description of the character's emotions. Rulfo omits facts, actions, stories and focuses on Macario's mind and heart. I chose Macario because what music can do best is to give sound to emotions and the substance of the story is the character's emotions.
His work will be premiered next to Debussy's Le mer, a work full of light, color and many episodes of aquatic laughter, which contrasts with the concepts present in all Rulfian poetics of earthly aridity, monochromatic solitude and an insurmountable sadness. Was this contrast in the program by any chance planned?
I don't think that was the case, as the program was finalized once I started composing the piece. Rather, I think the program finds its unity in two ways:
- All the pieces in the program demand virtuosity from the orchestra, and in the case of the Rhapsody on a theme by Paganini by Rachmaninov, also a great virtuosity from the incredible pianist Lilya Zilberstein.
- The taste for harmony and instrumental timbre, as well as the evocation of orchestral impressions and colors of the French repertoire (of which Ravel and Debussy are two giants), represents a source of enormous inspiration and learning in my work.
In La sed de los cometas you construct a living Sor Juana, relevant to contemporary Mexican discourse. In the case of Canto de Macario, is there a similar intention?
Not in the same way. At The Thirst for Cometss there are communicating vessels between different centuries; of specific and very important topics socially speaking, such as gender equality. In Macario we read about experiences that are common to all humans: fear, desire, love, amazement. Macario experiences these feelings intensely and seems to alternate rapidly from one feeling to the other. But all human life is conditioned by them.
Could you briefly introduce yourself to the audience of the Sinfónica de Minería?
I am a Mexican composer. Much of my compositional work is inspired by the literature of our country. I like to evoke through sound the sensation of textures, atmospheres and colors. In recent years I have concentrated on composing vocal and orchestral music. I recently premiered my opera La sed de los cometasbased on the life and work of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. I believe that in my music the listener can enter as one enters a dream: understanding it through sensations and feelings. I also believe that, as Octavio Paz said, "art is a spiritual exercise".
