Suite Espanola, no. 1 and no.2

When I think of Spain, an image of a dark-haired flamenco dancer in a colorful dress comes to mind. The strength in her movements and the music’s rhythm evokes a passion that is at the heart of Spanish music. I find that same passion in Isaac Albéniz’s Suite española, no. 1 and no. 2 for piano. With a heart for his country, Albéniz contributed to the nationalistic movement using sounds familiar to his heritage. In his Suites españolas he gave unique distinction to each section by utilizing various rhythms and melodies typical of Spanish music of the time.

Albéniz was a child prodigy who made his public debut at age four, initiating a childhood of recital touring throughout Europe and the Spanish Americas (Clark). Though Albéniz spent much of his time traveling, he always found his way back home to Spain, whether physically or through his music. In both of the Suites españolas, Albéniz pays tribute to nine cities in Spain by naming each movement according to the town or community it reflects. For example, one movement is named for the old town of Cadiz, where flamenco began. Furthermore, Albéniz gives a subtitle to each movement in the first suite, explaining what mood it is to convey. “Cadiz” is therefore given the subtitle “Saeda,” a flamenco-style song played for religious services. As this piece is in triple meter, it naturally feels like a dance. Albéniz emphasizes the second beat by using a turn or a trill, which suggests castanets, a wooden instrument used in Spanish music for percussive ornamentation. “Granada” is given the subtitle “Serenata,” meaning serenade, and in it Albéniz creates a guitar-like sound using a rolled chord in the right hand. This strumming chord is played repetitively on top of a lyrical melody in the left hand to imply a dreamlike serenade. Using these techniques, Albéniz contributed to the ever-growing movement toward nationalism. In a period when Italy and France defined what music should be, many composers strayed from the norm and sought to make their compositions representative of their homeland. For example, Chopin incorporated Polish melodies and dances into his polonaises and mazurkas and Rimsky-Korsakov used Russian folk melodies to give his music distinction. Albéniz also found ways to help listeners identify his work as nationalistic.

Albéniz’s place in the late Romantic period is fitting as his use of modern harmonies and chromaticism, especially in the piece “Cuba,” connect Classical style with new Romantic ideas. As a first time listener to Albéniz’s work, I naturally assumed that all of the music was original and as complete works, the Suites españolas are indeed his own. However, an article from Notes reveals that a couple of movements in Suite española no. 1 are taken directly from an earlier work, Chants d’Espagne, also written by Albéniz (Clark). Though this seems scandalous, many great composers have been caught doing the same thing in order to meet the demands of their patrons. If one were to glimpse at Bach’s outpouring of music, he would likely find a melody or chorale tune used more than once. While we do not look down on Bach for such acts, perhaps this is a reason for the Suites españolas exclusion from the canon we know today.

While the Suites españolas are not a regular part of the canon, Albéniz’s work did not go unnoticed by his contemporaries. Not only did Debussy find greatness in this Spanish composer, he encouraged others to look to Albéniz’s work so that they could learn from him as well. When discussing nationalism, Debussy remarked, “Without using actual popular tunes he is the kind of person who has them in his blood. They have become so natural a part of his music that one barely distinguishes a demarcation line” (Lesure and Howat). It is clear that Albéniz was recognized during his life, however he seems to go unheard today. While I am unsure of the reason for this, I would gladly place Albéniz Suites españolas in the canon among the works of Chopin, Bach, and Debussy.