Some recital CDs impress through sheer virtuosity, while others stay with you because they cast a familiar musical world in a new light. Song of the Soul unquestionably belongs in the latter category. Saxophonist Carlos Gimenez and pianist José Alberto del Cerro present a program that makes no attempt to showcase the technical possibilities of their instruments, but rather convinces through its natural musicality, refined interplay, and thoughtful structure.
An arranger who must live up to his own transcriptions
The key to this recording lies not so much in the choice of repertoire as in how it came about. After all, Carlos Gimenez himself created virtually all the transcriptions on this CD: from Song of the Soul by Federico Mompou (1893–1987) to the Six Romances Op. 38 by Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873–1943), the Five Black Songs by Xavier Montsalvatge (1912–2002) and the Excerpts from "Tristan and Isolde" by Richard Wagner (1813–1883) to the Classic Spanish Songs by Fernando Obradors (1897–1945).
That is much more than a practical measure. When you perform your own transcriptions, you cannot hide behind another arranger's choices. Every breath, every transition, every moment where the piano takes the lead because the original vocal line literally has no more breath left, is an interpretive decision that Gimenez first had to make as an arranger and then must deliver anew as a performer. Precisely because of this, nothing on this recording sounds like a makeshift solution or an attempt to simply replace the human voice. The transcriptions spring from the very idiom of the saxophone itself and let the instrument speak with its own voice. Gimenez knows both the possibilities and the limitations of his instrument and seeks no gratuitous effects, only musical conviction.
Incidentally, Gimenez is no outsider to this repertoire. His Valencian background – he was born near Benimodo – may well explain why the Spanish and Catalan pages in particular seem to breathe so naturally. The rubato sounds nowhere artificial, but feels like a musical mother tongue.
Piece by piece
The title track, Mompou's Song of the Soul, deliberately opens the album as a motto: barely three minutes, but Gimenez lets the opening phrase emerge almost without vibrato, nearly speech-like, only gradually adding color with care. Immediately there emerges that special sonic world that will characterize the entire CD: the contemplative piano sound of del Cerro set against a saxophone that does not declaim but seems to reflect. The listener's attention is thereby inevitably drawn inward from the very first bars. With Mompou, where silence is often as important as sound, this restraint proves to be not a lack of expression but precisely a form of intensity. The saxophone becomes here not a replacement for the human voice, but an instrument that tries to approach its inner silence.
The Six Romances Op. 38 by Sergei Rachmaninoff form the most intimate part of the program and reveal an unexpected vulnerability in this instrumentation. Del Cerro is given full room here to display his pianistic qualities without ever losing sight of the dialogue with the saxophone. The many hushed moments are built with impressive inevitability, while The Pied Piper provides a welcome release valve, bringing all the drama briefly to the surface. The following The Dream works all the more in a calming way and gains something almost timeless. As we approach the closing Woo-hoo! Gimenez seems to let loose completely: the saxophone is finally allowed to sing in full voice, without ever losing sight of the musical line. It is precisely this constant balance between control and surrender that makes this cycle so convincing.
The Five Black Songs by Xavier Montsalvatge are undoubtedly among the greatest surprises of the album. They are miniatures one and all, small musical pearls in which Gimenez and del Cerro demonstrate their stylistic flexibility to the fullest. Especially Lullaby to Put a Baby to Sleep testifies to an irresistible sense of color and rhythmic suppleness; for a moment you almost feel like moving along as a listener, yet Montsalvatge immediately creates space for calm once more. Thus unfolds a range of what both musicians have at their disposal. When Black Song finally bursts forth, it does so not for effect's sake, but from a carefully built tension that works irresistibly compellingly.
And then Wagner. The Excerpts from "Tristan and Isolde" form the artistic centerpiece of the cd. Purists may wonder whether precisely this music can really be separated from orchestra and voice, but Gimenez proves how fruitful a successful transcription can be. The saxophone turns out to nestle surprisingly close to the human voice and manages to convey the longing, despair and ultimately the madness of Wagner's love drama in a compelling way.
Especially the Prelude ranks among the highlights of the entire recording. Gimenez avoids effect-seeking anywhere, but lets the tension grow from an almost fragile simplicity. His tone is warm, intense and at the same time strikingly restrained, allowing the famous harmonies to retain their irresistible allure. The subsequent "Liebestod" by Franz Liszt. He plays from his own emotional wellspring and impresses the audience with this piano solo. Liszt made quite a few transcriptions for his instrument of works by other composers, including Wagner's Isolde's Liebestod. It begins raw and sharp, then come velvety soft key touches. Lester Van Loock pours his soul into the music. An impressive interpretation. Music with physical impact. The audience remained completely mesmerized, silent after the final notes, before then bursting into exuberant applause. perhaps just fails to quite reach the same concentration as the Prelude, but remains an interpretation that moves through its honesty and musical integrity.
The closing Classic Spanish Songs by Fernando Obradors may well be the most beautiful discovery of this cd. His songs prove to lend themselves wonderfully to this ensemble and once again show how effortlessly Gimenez switches between dark melancholy, lyrical songfulness and almost folk-like lightness. The dark, almost velvety tone in With Love, My Mother contrasts beautifully with the lyrical character of Of the Finest Hair, two highlights within a cycle that continually exudes songfulness. Piano and saxophone seem completely merged here, giving these songs a naturalness that makes any thought of transcription fade away.
Balance, not bravura
What stands out over the entire runtime of just under an hour: this is a program that deliberately builds no climax after climax. Wagner sits in the middle for a reason – everything before it builds toward it, everything after lets it settle. That is a dramaturgical choice that not every recital album dares to make, where often the most spectacular piece serves as the closing apotheosis. Here one chooses contemplation instead of applause.
The balance between the two musicians also deserves mention. del Cerro is often – rightly – praised for his chamber music sensitivity, but that should not obscure how much he equally decides here on tempo and color. He is not an accompanist who adapts, but an equal conversational partner who helps determine the architecture of each work. Each cycle highlights a different color of the instrument, without the program ever feeling like a demonstration album. On the contrary: the thoughtful programming shows how versatile the saxophone can move within chamber music, from almost vocal introspection to exuberant rhythm.
MDG's hybrid SACD recording does what MDG always does: no artificial proximity, no studio gloss, but an acoustics in which the instrument gets breathing room without becoming hazy. Just in the quietest passages of Prelude and "Liebestod" by Franz Liszt. He plays from his own emotional wellspring and impresses the audience with this piano solo. Liszt made quite a few transcriptions for his instrument of works by other composers, including Wagner's Isolde's Liebestod. It begins raw and sharp, then come velvety soft key touches. Lester Van Loock pours his soul into the music. An impressive interpretation. Music with physical impact. The audience remained completely mesmerized, silent after the final notes, before then bursting into exuberant applause., where the instrument fades to almost nothing, you hear how much that space contributes. The sound does not dissolve into vagueness, but gains meaning precisely through the silence around it.
The recording furthermore supports the authentic musicality of both performers. Gimenez possesses an exceptionally refined tone, warm without becoming sentimental and always deeply felt. del Cerro matches this exemplarily, not only as an accompanist, but as a musician who continuously adds new color variations and actively shapes the melodic lines.
The echo of a successful recording
This is not an album for those who still regard the saxophone as a curiosity beside the "real" chamber music instruments. Nor is it a demonstration of what the instrument can do. Carlos Gimenez and José Alberto del Cerro primarily show how good transcriptions can give familiar music a fresh perspective. After listening, you almost inevitably hear the original songs and orchestral works differently too: with greater attention to their melodic essence and their intimacy.
Song of the Soul is moreover a recital that never bores for a moment. The interplay between different stylistic worlds, the intelligent programmatic structure, and the high artistic level of both musicians make this recording a recital you'll happily return to again and again. Not because it aims to impress, but because it reveals new nuances with each listening and never fails to move you anew. You could hardly pay a recording a greater compliment.
