September 12, 2003
GUITAR
LEGEND JOHN WILLIAMS INSPIRED BY VENEZUELAN FOLK
MUSIC
One of the most respected guitarists in the
world, John Williams has explored, expanded and
personally inspired a modern renaissance for the
classical guitar over the course of thirty years.
His affair with South American music began when
he studied under the great Venezuelan guitarist
Alirio Diaz. Years later, it is still inspiring
his most recent work: El Diablo Suelto (Devil
On The Loose).
By
Michael Church
(The Independent) - "I hate knocking
other players," says guitarist John Williams,
"but I've heard many people trying and failing
to play this piece. They do it in a simple six-eight
rhythm, which sounds sweet, but boring."
He demonstrates, and it is. "But now listen
to it with two rhythms going simultaneously -
a six-eight over a three-four." I try to
disentangle them, but my brain can't do it: the
music seems to swirl and float. "To really
play this, you need to do the African thing -
move your body with the complex pulse. It's no
good tapping your feet like a European. There's
a European influence here, but the guts of it
is Indian plus African.'
Which goes back 500 years, to the first musical
alliances between runaway slaves and the Indian
tribes of what is now Venezuela. The indigenous
inhabitants had flutes and drums, but no stringed
instruments; the slaves brought their lutes, while
the Jesuits who set out to convert the locals
introduced a proto-guitar called the vihuela,
which evolved into the Venezuelan cuatro. Though
Williams's Hampstead studio is full of guitars
and harps from around the world, he hasn't got
a cuatro to hand, but he does play along with
one on the beguiling new album which is the trigger
for our meeting.
It's a collection of Venezuelan songs and dances,
entitled El Diablo Suelto. "That translates
as The Devil on the Loose," he explains with
a boyish grin, "and I'm not at all sure how
it will be received in religious Venezuelan villages."
On the other hand, he reckons it would sell like
a bomb in West Africa, if Sony's distribution
reached that far. "For what those early musical
alliances led to was an explosion of polyrhythms
which are remarkably similar to the polyrhythms
you hear today on the West African kora lute."
Musicians in Mali would have no difficulty with
a six-eight plus a three-four, because they're
playing them all the time.
But it's taken Williams many years to liberate
this particular devil. Born 62 years ago in Melbourne,
and having been taught guitar from the age of
four by his bandmaster father, he was brought
to Europe at 12 because he wanted to meet Segovia
and Django Reinhardt. Django inconsiderately died
the moment he arrived, but Williams did manage
to enrol at Segovia's summer school in Italy,
where he was taken under the wing of the great
Venezuelan guitar maestro Alirio Diaz. And thus
he fell in love, not with Segovia's music, but
with the music of Venezuela.
"Segovia couldn't see the point of it,"
says Williams now. "He simply wouldn't play
it; he thought it was vulgar. And he was absolutely
wrong. I loved this music, and firmly believed
that it belonged in the mainstream guitar repertory."
But at that time Williams had to carve out a career,
so after a triumphant Wigmore debut, he joined
Julian Bream and Paco Peña as one of the
three deities on the virtuoso circuit. He became
a professor at the Royal College, then moved into
film (providing the music for The Deer Hunter),
then formed his globe-trotting ensemble John Williams
and Friends. He also became the guitarist of choice
for a raft of chat-show hosts.
But the guitar music of Latin America wouldn't
let him alone. He became the first musician to
record the complete works of the guitarist-composer
Agustin Barrios-Mangore - "the Chopin of
the guitar" - and his crusading efforts on
this music's behalf earned him a Venezuelan quasi-knighthood.
And gradually the idea gelled which was to turn
into this new CD.
Alirio Diaz had studied with a teacher who had
studied with Barrios-Mangore himself, so Diaz
possessed the sacred flame. He was a master arranger
and had village music in his veins, which is why
his versions of the joropo, the quirpa (danced
at weddings), and the galeron (sung to celebrate
the arrival of Spanish galleons) sound so earthy.
"It was obvious what I had to do," says
Williams. "I would make a disc of his arrangements.
It would also be a lovely way to acknowledge my
artistic debt to him." That's Diaz himself
with Williams on the CD cover, over 80 and still
going strong.
* 'El Diablo Suelto' is out on Sony.
