Manuel Maria Ponce (1882-1948) Guitar Works Vol. 2 Manuel Maria Ponce was born into a middle-class family in the Mexican provincial town of Fresnillo,...
Manuel Maria Ponce
(1882-1948)
Guitar Works Vol. 2
Manuel Maria Ponce was born into a middle-class family in the Mexican
provincial town of Fresnillo, Zacatecas, and received his first piano lessons
from his sister Josefina in Aguascalientes when he was only six years of age.
Ponce's prodigious talents took him to Mexico City, to advanced studies in
Bologna and Berlin, a position at the Mexico City Conservatory, and an extended
sojourn from 1925 to 1933 in Paris, where he worked with Paul Dukas. After 1933,
Ponce returned to Mexico City where he taught piano at the Conservatory and
folklore at the University. He also had a busy career as a music critic and
journalist, from youthful articles in the Aguascalientes newspaper and a period
from 1915 to 1917 in Havana, to editing major music periodicals in Mexico City
and Paris. As a composer, Ponce merged the influences of his youth, salon music
for the piano, sentimental art-songs and folk-tunes, with sophisticated
counterpoint, impressionistic harmonies and the new Latin American nationalism.
Although he was not alone in forging a Mexican national musical tradition, his
works, with their often breath-taking melodies, still have broader appeal than
those of his few rivals, such as Chavez, and it would not be unreasonable to
proclaim him Mexico's greatest composer.
It was in 1935 that Fritz Kreisler finally admitted what many had
already come to suspect: that some of the little violin pieces by
half-forgotten masters that he performed were in fact his own compositions. Was
this an innocent joke or a despicable fraud, as some critics irately claimed?
The verdict of history has favoured Kreisler, and hearing some of these pieces
today, with the advantage of hindsight, it seems obvious that the critics had
no-one but themselves to blame for being fooled in the first place. Kreisler,
however, was not the only touring virtuoso to do such a thing.
A few years earlier, the Spanish guitarist Andres Segovia had plotted a
similar joke with his friend the Mexican composer Manuel Ponce. Segovia was a
pioneer of the inclusion of what we today call early music in the concert
repertoire. The texture of Renaissance and Baroque lute music particularly
suited the guitar, and the music itself had a quaint and exotic flavour which his
post-Romantic audiences loved. Furthermore, the music itself was becoming
fashionable in the 1920s, when Respighi's orchestral settings of old Italian
lute music created a sensation. It put Segovia at the cutting edge of the
latest musicological trends while lending to the guitar a certain legitimacy as
the heir to the immense lute and Vihuela repertoire, much as the piano was heir
to the harpsichord repertoire. The principal problem was the availability of
fresh and suitable examples of such music. The study of the Spanish vihuelists,
still in its early stages, provided Segovia with selections from the
Renaissance period, but Baroque music was a greater problem. The late Francisco
Tarrega had transcribed for the guitar a few pieces from Bach's lute music, and
Segovia himself would transcribe a few Scarlatti sonatas and more Bach.
Segovia, though, was never a scholar in the usual sense and, in the decades
before the photocopying machine, the prospect of sitting in dusty libraries and
transcribing lute tablature had little appeal to the popular virtuoso.
It is not clear exactly when or where the idea was born to persuade
Ponce to compose his modern counterfeits of Baroque music. The surviving
correspondence indicates, intriguingly, that in the 1920s Segovia and Kreisler
had become friends, sharing advice and even impresarios. One tradition, related
by Corazon Otero, has it that Segovia asked Ponce to compose the Suite in
A minor as a joke on Kreisler, with whom he was to share a concert. It
is possible, although unlikely, that Kreisler had impulsively announced to his
new friend his greatest secret, or perhaps they had commiserated with each
other on a mutual problem: Kreisler's worry that too much of his programmes
consisted of his own compositions, and Segovia's concern that too much of his
were, increasingly, music by his favourite composer Ponce. It is also clear
that Segovia, in encouraging Ponce to write for the guitar, had discovered that
the composer had an aptitude for composing "in the style of' others.
The Suite in A minor, originally attributed to the lutenist
Sylvius Leopold Weiss, was probably composed before 1929, while Ponce was
living in Paris. The Prelude in E major for Guitar and Harpsichord and
the little Balletto for guitar date from the same time and place, and
were assigned to the same composer. The Suite in D major, ultimately
attributed to Alessandro Scarlatti, was completed a year or two later. Both
suites have the movements of the "traditional" Baroque partita: Prelude,
Allemande, Sarabande, Gavottes I and II, and Gigue. The
sparkling little Prelude in E major for harpsichord and guitar
(Paris, 1926) was also attributed to Weiss; the guitar part was probably
conceived as a solo, and is frequently performed as such. Ponce's Sonata for
Guitar and Harpsichord was also composed by 1926. Both of these works were
probably inspired by Falla's recent rehabilitation of the harpsichord and by
Joaquin Nin's revival of early Spanish keyboard music in the 1920s. The Homenaje
a Tarrega is the last movement of a sonatina for guitar; the unedited
manuscript, found among Ponce's papers, dated January, 1932. The first two
movements of this work had already been presented to Segovia, but they were
among the pieces lost or destroyed when Segovia's home in Barcelona was
looted during the Spanish Civil War.
Sylvius Leopold Weiss was a perfect choice for a pastiche. He was, by
reputation, a lutenist admired by Bach himself, but little was actually known
of his music, which survived in a tablature notation only few scholars of the
day could read. The evolution of the hoax can be traced in correspondence
between Segovia and the composer. In December 1929, Segovia wrote to Ponce,
referring to a Julius (sic.) Weiss Suite and dance-movements that he had used
as encore pieces. He also urged Ponce to work on his variations on the theme Folias
de Espana, suggesting that such a work might be attributed to Giuliani,
many of whose works remained at the time unknown. In October 1930, Segovia was
able to report the success of the works attributed to Weiss and the favourable
critical reaction. The following year, urging Ponce to finish the Suite in
D, Segovia cautioned that the new work should not be too like Bach, which
would arouse undue interest, and a few weeks later, he inquired about the
possible attribution of the Preambulo of the Suite in D major.
They settled upon assigning the suite to Alessandro Scarlatti, whose
instrumental music was less known than that of his son Domenico. In 1933,
Segovia invited Ponce to provide some sonatinas in the style of Domenico
Scarlatti, but by this time, Ponce may have been tiring of the charade; he had,
after all, profited little from these efforts. When Segovia proposed the Weiss
Suite to his publisher Schott, he demanded better terms than he had received
for the Bach editions because, he said, he possessed the only manuscript.
Perhaps for this reason, Schott never published the work. Furthermore,
Segovia's motivation for the "joke" was no longer his desperation for
new material. A world traveller with admirers everywhere, Segovia would have
had little difficulty obtaining a few authentic sonatas by Weiss or early
editions of Giuliani had he tried. Segovia himself had arranged several of
Domenico Scarlatti's sonatas for guitar and must have known that dozens more
were suitable for such treatment and that this could be accomplished as easily
as Ponce could compose counterfeits. Still, in 1937 Segovia continued to
request more pastiches, asking for a new suite that might be attributed to Alessandro
Scarlatti, Weiss, Kellner or any other composer of that period. It would appear
that Segovia simply preferred Ponce's works to the originals.
In 1938, Segovia issued his first recording of the Weiss suite. Within a
short time, there appeared several published transcriptions of the piece,
copied from the recording without Segovia's authorisation. The music had, after
all, been described as composed by Weiss and was therefore presumably in the
public domain. Litigation was out of the question. Miguel Abloniz, one of these
transcribers, later told of visiting Segovia in his hotel in Edinburgh in 1948.
Segovia introduced him to another visitor, the concert pianist Arturo Benedetti
Michelangeli (1920-1995), who had also copied the piece from Segovia's recording
and was performing it on the piano. Ponce's authorship was not revealed until
well after the composer's death in 1948. Segovia had confided the true
authorship to few people, and not until the 1970s did Ponce's heir, Carlos
Vasquez, officially confirm what many had come to expect. As with Kreisler, the
biggest mystery which now remains is how any "experts" were fooled in
the first place.
Richard Long