Another winner from the Naxos Spanish Classics 
                which is threatening to rival that label's American and British 
                series in terms of indispensability. This is the first in a projected 
                sequence of piano music by the hitherto rarely encountered Catalan 
                composer Manuel Blancafort and, like the best of the series so 
                far, Rodrigo of course excepted, the music herein owes little 
                to the traditional Spanish axis of Albeniz, Granados etc. French 
                impressionism in general and Ravel, himself half-Basque, in particular 
                are in the mix, as is Blancafort's friend and Catalan contemporary 
                the great Federico Mompou. The music is quite individual though 
                for the age at which the composer wrote it - the latest included 
                here when he was just 23! Mompou is not a bad reference point 
                though, although this is slightly less austere or introverted, 
                a little warmer, more romantic but definitely not florid. It does 
                often share with Mompou though, a clarity, simplicity and dignified 
                air of controlled melancholy/nostalgia. I was also even reminded 
                at times, perhaps for the strong use of song/folk-based motifs, 
                of the piano works of Janáček, 
                Tveitt and Moeran, none of whom one would really associate with 
                Spain!  
              
 
              
The seven Youthful Pieces form an effective 
                introduction to the idiom described above and, from this opening 
                section onwards, I don't recall a single track (and there are 
                37 of them!) which didn't interest me in one way or another. Many 
                of them did a great deal more. The nine Mountain Songs, 
                Blancafort's Songs Without Words, if you like, show the 
                composer's affinities with nature. We hear of lullabies, snowfalls 
                and sunsets but there is not a note too many, not a hint of bombast 
                or tweeness. The juxtaposition of meditative and exuberant music, 
                even in the same track is highly reminiscent of Mompou in his 
                superb Cançons y Danzas set. The title Notes 
                from Years Gone By should be self explanatory - according 
                to pianist Miquel Villalba's highly informative notes some of 
                these pieces "anticipate the Nocturns of 20 years later" 
                in their youthful maturity. Admirers of Ravel's Tombeau de 
                Couperin will love this suite, although some of the slower 
                pieces suggest Debussy more - try La lluna brilla. The 
                closing Tema popular, based on a traditional Catalan song, 
                leads us fittingly into the latest and last suite on the CD, the 
                12 Cançons, many of which are, unsurprisingly, given 
                the title, also of similar provenance. Like much of the music 
                recorded here, themes tend to relate to solitude, nature and also 
                childhood, so we hear "about" a hermitage, a shepherd boy and 
                twilight. Nine of the thirteen tracks are unpublished - there 
                are thirteen because two versions of one of the "songs" are included 
                - but listening quality of these short but concentrated essays 
                it is astonishing that they have remained that way for so long. 
                Naxos and Miquel Villalba should be congratulated on producing 
                an excellent recording of a great performance of some beautiful 
                music that has gone unheard outside its native region for far 
                too long. I'd go as far to say that this is an essential purchase 
                for anyone interested in twentieth century piano music. A really 
                wonderful disc, another top three of 2003 contender! 
              
 
              
Neil Horner