Suite populaire espagnole (1914)

arranged for cello and piano by Paul Kochansky

El paño moruno

Asturiana

Jota

Nana

Canción

Polo

Falla’s Siete canciones populares españolas, which he wrote for a Spanish soprano in Paris in 1914, have proved to be highly attractive not only to singers but also to instrumentalists, not least the Polish violinist Paul Kochansky. Leaving out the second of the songs, Seguidilla murciana, Kochansky arranged the remaining six as a Suite populaire espagnole for violin and piano and for cello and piano – using the word “populaire” not in the sense of well-liked, incidentally, but in the same sense as “populares” in Falla’s original title (which really ought to be translated as “Seven Spanish Folk Songs” rather than “Seven Spanish Popular Songs”). All the tunes are, in fact, drawn from traditional Spanish sources and allied with a accompaniments as idiomatic as only Falla could make them.

arranged for cello and piano by Maurice Maréchal

El paño moruno

Asturiana

Jota

Nana

Canción

Polo

Falla’s Siete canciones populares españolas, which he wrote for a Spanish soprano in Paris in 1914, have proved to be highly attractive not only to singers but also to instrumentalists, not least the French cellist Maurice Maréchal. Leaving out the second of the songs, Seguidilla murciana, Maréchal arranged the remaining six as a Suite populaire espagnole for cello and piano - using the word “populaire” not in the sense of well-liked, incidentally, but in the same sense as “populares” in Falla’s original title (which really ought to be translated as “Seven Spanish Folk Songs” rather than “Seven Spanish Popular Songs”). All the tunes are, in fact, drawn from traditional Spanish sources and allied with a accompaniments as idiomatic as only Falla could make them.

Maréchal’s arrangement was not simply a matter of leaving the piano part as it was in the original and rewriting the vocal part to suit the cello. One particular aspect of the piano part, which is its guitar-like repeated notes and arpeggios, is quite naturally transferred to cello pizzicato in, for example, the introduction to El paño moruno (“The Moorish Cloth”), a song with strong Andalusian colours from the province of Murcia. Although the cello is confined to the melodic line in Asturiana, a lament from the North of Spain, its guitar alter ego is restored to it in the Aragonese Jota, which is a most effective alternation of vigorous dance and amorous song. In Nana, a lullaby from Andalusia, the cello plays much the same quietly melodious role as in Asturiana but adds a new kind of colouring in Canción with its double-stopped harmonies in the middle and its artful glissando at the end. In Polo, a fierce dance from Andalusia, the cello is so fully occupied with its flamenco vocalisation, its ornamentations and exclamations, and the piano so busily active as a virtual guitar that there is no time for any exchange of roles.

Gerald Larner©

arranged for cello and piano by Paul Kochansky

El paño moruno

Asturiana

Jota

Nana

Canción

Polo

Falla’s Siete canciones populares españolas, which he wrote for a Spanish soprano in Paris in 1914, have proved to be highly attractive not only to singers but also to instrumentalists, not least the Polish violinist Paul Kochansky. Leaving out the second of the songs, Seguidilla murciana, Kochansky arranged the remaining six as a Suite populaire espagnole for violin and piano and cello and piano – using the word “populaire” not in the sense of well-liked, incidentally, but in the same sense as “populares” in Falla’s original title (which really ought to be translated as “Seven Spanish Folk Songs” rather than “Seven Spanish Popular Songs”). All the tunes are, in fact, drawn from traditional Spanish sources and allied with a accompaniments as idiomatic as only Falla could make them.

Kochansky’s arrangement was not simply a matter of leaving the piano part as it was in the original and rewriting the vocal part to suit the cello or violin. One particular aspect of the piano part, which is its guitar-like repeated notes and arpeggios, is quite naturally transferred to cello pizzicato in, for example, the introduction to El paño moruno (“The Moorish Cloth”), a song with strong Andalusian colours from the province of Murcia. Although the cello is confined to the melodic line in Asturiana, a lament from the North of Spain, its guitar alter ego is restored to it in the Aragonese Jota, which is a most effective alternation of vigorous dance and amorous song. In Nana, a lullaby from Andalusia, the cello plays much the same quietly melodious role as in Asturiana but adds a new kind of colouring in Canción with its double-stopped harmonies in the middle and its artful glissando at the end. In Polo, a fierce dance from Andalusia, the cello is so fully occupied with its flamenco vocalisation, its ornamentations and exclamations, and the piano so busily active as a virtual guitar that there is no time for any exchange of roles.

El paño moruno

Nana

Canción

Polo

Asturiana

Jota

Falla’s Siete canciones populares españolas, which he wrote for a Spanish soprano in Paris in 1914, have proved to be highly attractive not only to singers but also to instrumentalists. Perhaps the first to make a version for a string instrument was the French cellist Maurice Maréchal, who left out the second of the songs, Seguidilla murciana, and arranged the remaining six as a Suite populaire espagnole for cello and piano. Since then viola and violin arrangers have followed suit, leaving out the Seguidilla murciana as Maréchal did and using his title Suite populaire espagnole - in which, incidentally, “populaire” is to be understood not in the sense of well-liked but in the same sense as “populares” in Falla’s original title, which should really be translated as “Seven Spanish Folk Songs.” All the tunes are, in fact, drawn from traditional Spanish sources and allied with a accompaniments as idiomatic as only Falla could make them.

Making an effective arrangement for violin and piano is not simply a matter of leaving the piano part as it was and rewriting the vocal part to suit the violin. One particular aspect of the piano part, which is its guitar-like repeated notes and arpeggios, is quite naturally transferred to violin pizzicato in, for example, the introduction to El paño moruno, a song with strong Andalusian colours from the province of Murcia. In Nana, a lullaby from Andalusia, the violin plays much the same quietly melodious role as the voice in the original version but in Canción it adds a new kind of colouring with its harmonics and its double-stopped chords in the middle and its artful glissando at the end. In Polo, a fierce dance from Andalusia, the violin is so fully occupied with its flamenco vocalisation, its ornamentations and exclamations, and the piano so busily active as a virtual guitar that there is no time for any exchange of roles. While the violin is muted and confined to the melodic line in Asturiana, a lament from the North of Spain, its guitar alter ego is restored to it in the Aragonese Jota, which is a most effective alternation of vigorous dance and amorous song.