At the time of his untimely death in October 
                1997, Francisco Guerrero left a quantitatively limited but substantial 
                output. This consists of several sizeable works such as his large-scale 
                cycle Zayin (1983 – 1997) (available on record but 
                which I have not heard so far) and some impressive orchestral 
                works recorded here. Incidentally, an early work Ecce Opus 
                of 1973 has not been included in the present otherwise complete 
                recording of Guerrero’s orchestral music. 
              
 
              
Antar Atman of 1980 is thus the 
                earliest work here. Many of Guerrero’s hallmarks are already much 
                in evidence, foremost among them, an almost unstoppable energy 
                irresistibly pushing the music forward. This is probably one of 
                the most striking characteristics of his music. Complexity is 
                another prominent component, though the composer subtly argued 
                that his music is not complicated. He often compared his 
                music to a tree or a wave, i.e. to complex entities that may nevertheless 
                easily perceived as a whole. As soon as details obscure the perception 
                of the form, complication sets in. True to say that Guerrero’s 
                music is complex, intricately worked-out, but it retains a clear 
                sense of form (even if no traditional form) and of direction. 
                Antar Atman is, needless to say, quite complex, 
                even at times extravagantly so, but never of the expense of expression 
                which remains central to the composer’s concerns. In many respects, 
                albeit superficially, his music is rather similar to Ligeti’s 
                in its reliance of what may be referred to as micro-polyphony 
                and to Xenakis’s in its massive energy. Guerrero’s music often 
                suggests intractable, rugged landscapes in quite vivid orchestral 
                terms, though it is never programmatic. The very end of this powerful 
                piece is quite characteristic of Guerrero’s music: a long-held 
                high note bluntly answered by some grumble from the double basses. 
              
 
              
Ariadna, completed in 1984, is 
                scored for twenty strings (ten violins, five violas and five cellos) 
                laid-out in twenty real parts and using many playing techniques. 
                The music spirals endlessly, thus creating a fascinating network 
                of intermingling lines without ever losing sight of the red thread 
                running throughout the piece. Guerrero’s liking for string sounds 
                and mastery in writing for them is quite impressive indeed. 
              
 
              
The opening section of Sáhara 
                of 1991 is again for strings alone. They hold a long unison E 
                flat, without sounding static. Variety is achieved by the strings’ 
                staggered entries such suggesting a formidable activity beneath 
                the apparently static surface. Tension increases considerably 
                till halfway through the piece, at which point the woodwinds and 
                brass enter in often massive chords, again evoking some sun-drenched, 
                inhuman landscapes. 
              
 
              
Oleada, scored for full string 
                orchestra, is quite similar to Ariadna, though much 
                use is made of the full tonal potential of the strings, with great 
                emphasis on extreme contrasts. As implied by the title (derived 
                from the Spanish word Ola meaning Wave), the music 
                unfolds in massive waves of sounds often opposing extreme registers 
                (another characteristic of his music indeed). 
              
 
              
To commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of de 
                Falla’s death, the Junta de Andalucia (Andalusian Regional Government) 
                commissioned works from four Andalusian composers of different 
                generations: Manuel Castillo, Rafael Diáz, José 
                García Román and Francisco Guerrero. The latter 
                responded with Coma Berenices completed in 1996 
                and eventually his last completed work. It was first performed 
                posthumously in 1998 by the Orquesta de Cordoba conducted by Leo 
                Brouwer. (This performance, as well as that of two of the other 
                commissioned pieces, i.e. Castillo’s Sinfonietta Homenaje 
                and Diaz’s magnificent Concierto Andaluz, is available 
                on ALMAVIVA DS 019.) The title Berenice’s Hair is the name 
                of a constellation, though again the piece does not aim at any 
                descriptive programme. The music, full of arresting orchestral 
                touches and displaying the composer’s total mastery and assurance 
                in handling large orchestral forces, nevertheless, conjures up 
                remote, mysterious outer space as well as the tremendous energy 
                unleashed by exploding novas (two mighty percussion cadenzas). 
                If there ever was a Music of the Spheres, this is it. 
              
 
              
At the time of his death, Guerrero was also busy 
                with another important project which was left unfinished, an orchestration 
                of Albeniz’s Iberia. He also repeatedly (and half-jokingly) 
                mentioned that his music was to change drastically as soon as 
                the orchestration would have been completed, without giving any 
                real hint of the direction his music was to take. 
              
 
              
The Orquesta Sínfonica de Galicia may 
                not be a world-class orchestra, but they play this difficult, 
                demanding music with much aplomb, assurance and – most importantly 
                – with all their hearts. Encinar contrives superb, vital performances, 
                beautifully caught by the recording team. 
              
 
              
Complex, demanding, often gripping, powerfully 
                expressive and ultimately quite rewarding, such is Francisco Guerrero’s 
                music. I can not but recommend this release most heartily. This 
                is my record of the month. 
              
 
              
Hubert Culot