Duo Macondo was named after the imaginary city created by Gabriel 
                  García Márquez. The mystic Macondo of Márquez is both “far far 
                  away” and always here, in our heads. It is a good name for an 
                  ensemble that bridges distant countries. Mikhail 
                  Zemtsov on viola and Enno Voorhorst on guitar are both accomplished 
                  players and form an interesting and unusual duo. 
                  
                  The first part of the program is dedicated to that pair of Catalan 
                  composers whose names go together so often: Albéniz and Granados. 
                  Each is represented by three pieces with strong Spanish elements, 
                  based on folk dance. In the arrangements, the roles of the two 
                  instruments are rather fixed: the viola sings the melodic line, 
                  while the guitar takes the accompaniment. The result resembles 
                  a collection of songs, where the viola is the singer. The arrangements 
                  are natural, not too dense. The timbre and register of the two 
                  instruments are alike, which helps in the blend of voices. Asturias 
                  is one of the best-known pieces by Albéniz, thanks mostly to 
                  solo guitar transcriptions. It is a dark, mysterious legend, 
                  kind of a Spanish Erlkönig. Mallorca is a bittersweet 
                  romance, of the Liebesleid kind, almost a proto-tango. 
                  Sevilla is a hearty celebration. 
                  
                  When we move from Albéniz to Granados, not much is changed. 
                  Spain is still the source of inspiration. Andaluza is 
                  like a fiery gypsy dance. Its middle episode is sweet and relaxed, 
                  while the outer parts are agitated and very rhythmic. Oriëntal 
                  has the swaying momentum of a lullaby. The viola cedes the leading 
                  role in the ballad-like beginning, and instead supplies a pizzicato 
                  accompaniment. When it regains the reins, its smoky rough voice 
                  is very humane. This is the music of the twilight. Zambra 
                  returns to the mood of Andaluza; it is a character dance, 
                  with a slower middle section. 
                    
                  Cancion y Danza by Antonio Ruiz-Pipó serves as a separator 
                  between the idealistic bright colors of Albéniz and Granados, 
                  and the more realistic tango world of the second half of the 
                  disc. This music is unpretentious and simple, but not plain. 
                  It could be called neo-Renaissance; I can easily imagine it 
                  being played at the ball in the Capulets’ house, for example. 
                  Cancion is a saraband – cold, gray, bringing thoughts 
                  of mists and stones. It is followed by the merry, galliard-like 
                  Danza, with a strong, bouncy beat and some wicked cool 
                  effects from the viola. Actually, both instruments here masquerade 
                  in the antique costumes of a lute and a viol … and they do so 
                  most convincingly. 
                  
                  After we refreshed the “taste buds” of our ears, we move from 
                  sunny Spain to the rainy, depressed Buenos-Aires of Ástor Piazzolla. 
                  The arrangements change accordingly: we have quite a different 
                  set of sonorities. Oblivion is done perfectly: it is 
                  warm and poignant at the same time. As is customary now for 
                  Piazzolla interpretations, we have “the effects”, but they are 
                  very natural. Bordel, Café and Nightclub 
                  are chunks from the suite Histoire du Tango originally 
                  written for guitar and flute. Here the arranger did not have 
                  to tear a single fabric into two voices: the distinct voices 
                  were already there. Bordel is cheerful and lighthearted. 
                  Café is one of Piazzolla’s evening pieces, sorrowful 
                  but with motion. It tells a story, and is very choreographic. 
                  The viola sings magically. Finally, in Nightclub the 
                  viola proves its versatility, switching between the roles of 
                  a dark-colored cello and a soaring violin. Its nervous, vibrant 
                  voice suits this music better than the original flute. 
                  
                  Mikhail Zemtsov, the violist of the duo, composed Al Rato 
                  Veras – but it could as well have been written by Piazzolla 
                  himself, so naturally does it fit the Maestro’s idiom. It has 
                  its “big tune” (rather remarkable), it has a sequence of intense 
                  and introspective episodes – all in accord with Piazzolla’s 
                  formulae. The result is very satisfying. 
                  
                  The playing of both musicians is virtuosic and committed. However, 
                  while the guitarist just does his job well, it seems to me that 
                  the violist takes a step beyond. He constantly surprises me, 
                  almost in every piece. There is some really excellent viola 
                  playing here! The recording quality is also very good. I would 
                  prefer to hear fewer of the extra-musical squeaks and noises 
                  that accompany the guitar playing, especially in Albéniz. I 
                  did not notice them much in the Piazzolla. 
                  
                  Did I like the disc? Yes, I did, though not enough to say that 
                  I loved it. It clearly consists of two distinct parts with a 
                  separator, which could make it a fine recital. Such lack of 
                  unity can be considered a disadvantage for an album, but it 
                  also keeps the listener interested over repetitive listenings. 
                  I can feel the passion that Enno Voorhorst and Mikhail Zemtsov 
                  have for this music. When I listen to each piece, I feel that 
                  I am gazing into its world. But still I feel some detachment, 
                  some coldness. I am seeing the world: I do not enter it. Anyway, 
                  this disc is very satisfying on many levels. It contains some 
                  signature music from Spain and Argentina, expertly played, in 
                  fine arrangements for an interesting combination of instruments. 
                  A good one!
                  
                  Oleg Ledeniov