 CASTELNUOVO-TEDESCO Platero y Yo, op. 190.  Niklas Johansen (gtr)  OUR 8226930/31 (two SACDs: 149:06) reviewed form MP3 files, 24-bit, 44.1 kHz.
Five stars: The combination of phenomenal sound and a guitarist who has soaked up this music like a sponge is unbeatable

The longest single work in the guitar repertoire, Castelunovo-Tedesco's Platero y Yo (Platero and I) tells in 28 “scenes” (movements) the story of a man and his donkey, Platero. I would suggest that, although eminently excerptable, the piece should be experienced in its entirety. Each movements accompanies text by the poet Juan Ramón Jiménez. Here, we have an illustrated booklet which includes translations of the original text; Halfdan Pisket is the artist who supplies the black and white, striking images in the booklet.
Catherine Liolios on the EMEC label (Fanfare 41:2) offers another complete traversal. I agree with Dave Saeman that the recording there is too distanced; OUR Recordings get it just right. And how: the place and story of the recording itself is worth retelling. The venue is Fredensborg Castle, specifically chosen for this project because of its exceptional acoustics; the venture is possible thanks to the permission of His Majesty King Frederik X. There is also a version with narrator (in English) by Roxana Marcosanu on the PVR label (she overdubs her own narration). There are even spatial effects there (“I call him softly” she says, and “Platero” appears to the extreme left in the sound picture). It is interesting to have both ways; the experience is obviously very different., and Johansen is minus narration There is no doubt Castelnuovo-Tedesco's music sits perfectly well in its own right ...
Inevitably there ae significant guitarists who have taken on selections, notably Norbert Kraf,t recorded in Cambridge (UK) in 1990, five movements on Chandos, beautifully played (see Fanfare 14:4), and of course the inimitable Segovia And, there is a lovely alternative with narration is the warm male voice of Dan Doyle, with Frank Koonce on guitar (who is a little too distanced): Fanfare 33:1, and easily available, albeit via individual videos, on YouTube.
It is Platero himself that launches the cycle; a piece about him, anyway. The presence, the crystalline detail, the tenderness of Johansen’s performance is remarkable, as is the variety of articulation he achieves (finer gradations than Catherine Liolios’ version, for sure). It makes sense, too: the poem refers to the “amber” muscatel gapes, “purple” figs, flowers of "pink, sky blue and golden yellow,” and more all in a short poem. Quite right that the score is realised in Technicolor, aspects difficult to appreciate if there is concurrent narration. Johansen realizes the beauty of “Angelus” in pastel colors: color again, until the Angelus rings. The explicit reference to Fra Angelco, who “always knelt to paint the sky” is infinitely touching in the text (anyone who has seen Fra Angelico’s wall paintings in Florence may well have a tear in their eye), and lovely as represented in the music. It is true, though, that Liolios implies far more clearly the bells at the opening of this movement.
The reflection of color in the text in the music and in Johanson’s performance is a continuing thread throughout. I wonder if I am alone in finding an echo of Mussorgsky’s Pictures in “Return”; it seems so, albeit underlaid with Spanish rhythms, in the present performance; Liolios is under-tempo here, over-langorous in comparison. There is virtuosity in Johansen’s performance, too: “Spring” bursts with ecstatic rhythms that, according to the poem, paise Nature for her bounty; on her own terms, Liolios is fine here, it is only in comparison with Johansen that one realizes how much more the score offers; plus, Johansen has none of her awkward technical corners.
The poetry for “The Well" verges on the mystical; and so, in response, does Castelnuovo-Tedesco's music. Liolios seems to seek to emphasize the Impressionism she feels is within the score; Johansen, though, is true to the composer, and seems to be throughout. He finds the elation in “Sparrows,“ too: the protagonist elects not to go to church, but instead to celebrate the Divine via Nature, the freedom reflected and exemplified by those sparrows (Goriones). Johansen is glorious here; and, in perfect contrast, it is melancholy that surfaces next (“Melancolia,“ describing a visit to Platero’s gave), given the perfect marriage of reflection and flow.
No. 8, “Friendship" (Amistad), which opens the second “volume,” is one of the more famous movements; hearing it in context allows its beauty to grow exponentially (Liolios is athe clumsy here). Certainly, “La Luna is perfectly watery from Johansen, while “Twilight Games” is nicely playful. There is no doubting a sense of narration in “Ronsard,” non-verbal though it might be, something very much continued in the subdued “El loco” (The Crazy Man). Johansson teases out “The Consumptive Girl”. Nostalgia is an inevitable part of the Spanish mentality, and it is writ large here in the movement of that name; and how convincing is Johanssen in “White Butterflies,” lightly flitting, but with an undercurrent of night.
The beginning of “April Idyll” is like the drawing of a stage curtain; Johansson goes on to create the most childlike simplicity with hints of Impressionism before a canary takes flight (and with some aplomb!).
It is the conjuration of place that Johansson is so good at: he presents not just any lullaby (No. 18), but one in the sweltering heat. There is a pronouncedly lachrymose slant to “The Canary Dies” (it is a children’s canary, so there is much sadness); Johansson’s timing between phrases, and the silence that lies here, is most touching; “November Idyll” is like an emotion’s echo.
Just as nostalgia is an inevitability here, so is death. It literally comes knocking (on the guitar wood) before sweet convalescence arrives. But no movement is as purely beautiful as “Swallows” and “The Wayside Flower” that follow (the latter nudging inaudibility at times). There is such beauty here; but things can be raucous, too, as in “Gypsies” (not without humor in this rendition), the atmosphere continued into “Carnaval,” at which point Johanson’s guitar almost becomes an orchestra). Finally, the donkey in heaven, an infinitely touching way to conclude this huge piece.
What a journey this is. The combination of phenomenal sound and a guitarist who has soaked up this music like a sponge is unbeatable, Wholeheartedly recommended. Colin Clarke

five stars: The combination of phenomenal sound and a guitarist who has soaked up this music like a sponge is unbeatable