NOTE: Please acknowledge the authorship of these program notes by Jose Elizondo, the composer, if you use them for publicity material, concert program notes, or any other publication.

 

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·                  Estampas Mexicanas

·                            I.   Ferial

·                            II.  Danza del Pájaro Sagrado

·                            III. Teotlalli

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·                 Mexican Vignettes

·                             I.    Parade

·                             II.   Dance of the sacred bird

·                             III.  Land of Gods

 

·        Length: 10 minutes total for all 3 movements (each movement approximately 3 mins)

·        Mood: festive, joyful, Mexican, energetic, rhythmic

·        Movements: Suite in 3 movements. The first and third movements can be performed independently.

·        Premiere: The first performance of this piece was on December 9th, 1995 with the MIT Symphony Orchestra, conducted by David Epstein (reading conducted by Alan Pierson). The professional premiere of this piece was on July 6th, 1996 with the San Jose Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Leonid Grin.

 

Program Notes by José Elizondo: (for the orchestra versions of this piece)

 

Estampas Mexicanas is a three-movement suite featuring Mexican folk elements. It was Elizondo’s first composition and is an homage to three of his favorite Mexican composers. In particular, it is inspired by the rhythmic vitality of the music of Carlos Chávez, the ritualistic mysticism of Silvestre Revueltas, and the lyric melodies of Manuel M. Ponce. The first movement, Ferial, is a festive parade of simple, colorful, folk-like tunes and rhythms. The opening of this movement pays homage to composer Carlos Chávez, paraphrasing the opening measures of his magnificent "Sinfonía India". The second movement, Danza del Pájaro Sagrado, presents an imagined Aztec ritual which uses texture and rhythm to paint a musical image of step-pyramids and ritual dances. And the third movement, Teotlalli, includes clear references to the Mexican mariachi music tradition.

 

I. Ferial

 

A “Ferial” is a combination of a religious procession with a street parade, typical of central Mexico. It is a fitting title for the first movement of “Estampas Mexicanas,” which parades simple, colorful, folk-like tunes and rhythms. The piece makes reference to a historic moment in the development of Mexican classical music. Having attained its political independence from Spain and gone through the Revolution war of 1910, Mexico was left to explore how to reconcile the diverse elements of its rich cultural heritage. Some composers that had been writing in the European salon-music styles favored prior to the Revolution, now started to more vigorously incorporate folk musical elements in their compositions. Ferial plays with that juxtaposition of Spanish and native Mexican elements.

 

The opening measures feature a paraphrase of the opening measures of “Sinfonía India” by Carlos Chávez. However, Elizondo takes this musical material in a different direction to paint a vignette of an exuberant street parade. In the Latin percussion of this movement, one hears the festive sounds of a town celebration and even the sound of “Matachines” (“Matachines” are autochthonous dancers that participate in major Mexican religious parades, wearing shells and other ornaments in their hands and feet to create percussion music as they dance). After the festive sounds and energetic rhythms, the music becomes more intimate, presenting an interlude in the form of a waltz reminiscent of the salon music popular in early 20th-century Mexico. The melody of this section is more self-conscious and distinctly European, as is the suggestion of the waltz form in which it is presented. It is as if the exuberance of the native Mexican world had been allowed to be displayed in public but not invited into the intimate salons of the Spanish homes of the aristocracy of the New Spain. The opening music of the movement comes back in different forms --irregular, repetitive, primal, vibrant. The pervasive sense of joy and festivity brings Ferial to a hopeful conclusion.

 

II. Danza del Pájaro Sagrado

 

The second movement, Danza del Pájaro Sagrado (Dance of the Sacred Bird), is a more introspective piece evocative of an imagined Aztec ritual invocation of a bird god. It was inspired by composers from the reactionary movement that sought national identity in the music of the Mexican native people, like the Aztecs and Maya, consciously trying to avoid European influence. Spanish missionaries had destroyed most documentation of such music, and without the results of research that are available now, composers from the early 20th century could only “imagine” what Aztec or Mayan music would have sounded like. The orchestration of Danza del Pájaro Sagrado is sparse and symbolic, walking the listener through the scene of an imagined Aztec ritual. The cyclical and simple bass drum figure pulsates like the heartbeat of a giant earth goddess. It is soon joined by a drum figure in the congas that, like a trance-inducing mantra, is repeated time and time again, unchangeable. A pizzicato motive starts in the low strings, later echoed and joined by new layers of ever-higher strings that lift the ritualistic procession upwards, as if climbing a step pyramid.

 

The piccolo’s register was chosen to sound like a clay ocarina. The piccolo sings an invocation, piercing the air filled with mystery. Its incantation transports the participants of the ritual, supported upward by the step pyramid of the strings, from the plane of the earthly to the realm of the divine bird god. Colorful blocks of woodwinds join the piccolo at the top of the pyramid, moving in parallel, in a relatively primal but relaxed motion, performing some sort of brief dance. Then, they stop and we hear the pyramid effect in reverse. The strings retreat to the nothingness from which they came, first carrying the piccolo invocation with them, then, accompanied only by the percussion mantra. There is one subtle difference in the invocation. The piccolo has been joined by a bassoon. The divine shadow is now visible on the earthly realm. Eventually, the heartbeat of the land, the giant goddess, is the only thing left. Seemingly as an answer to the ritual, the song of the bird, perhaps the bird god itself, is heard at the end. It evaporates with the sound of the mystical gong.

 

 

III. Teotlalli

 

The third movement, Teotlalli (Land of Gods), opens with a dissonant melody with contours that remind us, mockingly, of the melodies that came before. The oboe’s register makes it sound strained and tense, rough and primitive. Its melody combines that of the first movement with some of the ornamentation of the piccolo melody of the second movement, but there is something awkward and sarcastic about it. The cello ostinato that supports that melody emphasizes the dissonance and parodies the ostinato accompaniment of the second movement. The conga sound is wild and exaggerated, further providing a sarcastic comment on the imagined, “native” world of the second movement. This introduction section ends with a brass punctuation. A question is being asked... shouted, actually. Which of the cultural elements referenced in the previous two movements is more representative of the “Mexican” sound? Actually, neither of them. This third movement is about the synthesis and expression of all the various cultural elements in a relaxed, and more genuine, non-splintered manner.

 

This movement is inspired by Mexican composers who sought to find a voice for Mexican music, not rejecting its many influences, but simply synthesizing the European, native-Indian and mestizo sounds, as well as the very prominent folk music from the time of the Mexican Revolution. The rest of the movement is more varied, like Mexican history of the post-Revolutionary period. We are no-longer facing the romanticized salon music of the Pre-Revolutionary period, or the imagined pre-Hispanic ritual music of the early Post-Revolutionary composers. This new music might be somewhat chaotic and eclectic, but it is less self-conscious, more comfortable and it thrives in the presence of folk traditions, even in the sound of the Mariachi band, which is now the most recognizable form of Mexican folk music worldwide. Festive, like the first movement, but more Mexican somehow, Teotlalli is a celebration of this legendary Land of Gods.

 

 

The following poem was inspired by the music of this piece. It can be optionally used to complement the program notes. It has even been read by a narrator before each movement during the performance of the piece.

 

Estampas Mexicanas

Mexican Vignettes

 

Music by José L. Elizondo

Poem by Karina Melendez

(based on the music and conversations with the composer)

 

I. Parade

The conqueror kissed the New Land before wounding it with a shovel. He took pride in the hands that uprooted this bundle of cempasuchil flowers that now embellishes his vase.

The stars descend from the European sky to caress his melodies. Your footsteps, Aztec people, are present in the anonymity of the rhythm that the conqueror now claims as his own.

There is no link between you and him. If he had any ancestor on this land, he would remember… still, he sings this tune that, though dear, remains foreign to him. A song that speaks with the voice of a promise that will not hold true for him.

II. Dance of the Sacred Bird

The memory of the chant rests among the abandoned pyramids. Wearisome shadows descend to lay upon the earth. The timid plea of those who seek to rescue their identity from the past echoes in the dark. Each fragment of the temple raises its sight to respond to the invocation. The heartbeat of the sleeping volcano can be heard breathing in this land.

Centuries make way for History to approach the present from afar. She rises from the remains of the pyramids and exhumes herself from oblivion. History comes like the feather that tears time apart.

Music dresses herself with the feathers of the Quetzal. The sacred bird claims his song, his whistle, and fuses with the invocation, revealing itself with the glory of a soul that is reborn from its grave.

The Spaniards watch the winged god haul its trill back to the past and bind them to silence.

III. Land of Gods

Our back is burdened by stone idols that will speak to us no more and with ships that will carry only precious stones to the Old Continent. We have been left adrift.

Let the Ancient Sun sink and drag the ships and idols with him. You, who are neither Aztec nor Spaniard, will inherit this land: Teotlalli. The seed that shall nourish your descendants will be sown in this Land of Gods. Your music will embrace them and give them life.

Learn to accept the beauty of dawn in this horizon that is yours, before taking on glory that is not your own. Your song will no longer be Nahuatl or Spanish. From your melody, the new Mexican Sun will rise.

 

I. Ferial

El conquistador besó la nueva tierra antes de herirla con su pala. Se enorgulleció de las manos que cortaron este ramo de flores de cempasúchil que ahora adorna su florero.

Las estrellas del cielo europeo bajan a acariciar sus melodías. Tus huellas, pueblo azteca, están presentes en el anonimato del ritmo que hoy él reclama como suyo.

No existen lazos entre tú y él. Si él tuviera antecedentes en esta tierra los recordaría…. Y sin embargo toca esta melodía que aunque grata, permanece extranjera a él. Un canto que habla con la voz de las promesas que no se cumplirán para él.

II. Danza Del Pájaro Sagrado

El recuerdo del canto reposa entre las pirámides abandonadas. Bajan lentas las sombras a recostarse sobre la tierra. En la obscuridad retumba la plegaria tímida de los que buscan rescatar una identidad del pasado. Los fragmentos de los templos alzan la vista para responder a la invocación. El latido del volcán dormido se escucha respirar en estas tierras.

Los siglos abren paso a la historia que viene caminando desde muy lejos, que se levanta de entre los escombros de las pirámides y se desentierra a sí misma del olvido. Viene la historia como una pluma que desgarra el tiempo.

 La música se viste con el plumaje del Quetzal. El ave sagrada recobra su canto, su silbido, y se funde a la invocación. El dios pájaro se deja ver con la gloria del alma que renace de su sepulcro.

Los españoles observan como el dios emplumado se lleva su trino de vuelta al pasado y los deja solos con el silencio.

III. Teotlalli

A nuestra espalda sólo quedan ídolos de barro que no hablan ya más con nosotros y las carabelas que sólo llevarán oro y piedras preciosas al viejo continente. Estamos varados.

Deja que el viejo sol se ahogue y arrastre con él a los barcos y a los ídolos en su naufragio. Tú, que ya no eres Azteca ni Español, heredarás esta tierra: Teotlalli. En esta Tierra de Dioses se sembrará la semilla que nutrirá a tu descendencia. Tu música los acogerá y les dará vida.

Aprende a aceptar la belleza de la aurora en este horizonte que es tuyo, antes de adornarte con una gloria ajena. Tu canto ya no será Nahuatl ni Español. De esta melodía surgirá el Nuevo Sol Mexicano.