You know that you are amid a dedicated folk audience when the audience applauds mid-tune as a musician sets down his whistle and picks up a set of bagpipes. Then again, this same audience was also in awe of a horned fiddle and enthusiastic about the hurdy-gurdy. As you might infer, La Musgaña has a distinctive sound — and not just because of the instruments they play. Their music is also distinctive and beautiful.
A full house gathered to watch this Spanish band at the First Parish Unitarian Universalist Church, so I cuddled up to the church’s pipe organ to watch the show. The group plays largely traditional tunes from central Spain, including dances tunes, love songs, traditional celebration songs, and church tunes. As frontman Jaime Muñoz explained, musical influences in Spain range from north African beats to Celtic rhythms. Muñoz played flutes and whistles (I counted at least eight), clarinet, drum, and the bagpipes. Other band members included Carlos Beceiro on the cittern, guitar, and the afore-mentioned hurdy-gurdy; and the two youngsters in the group: Jorge Arribas on accordion (and briefly, bagpipes) and Diego Galaz on violin and horned violin. The latter instrument lacked a conventional body around the neck, but had a horn that looked much like the horn of an old Victrola record player. It sounded much like a Victrola, as well — a very cool looking and sounding instrument developed near the beginning of the 20th century in an attempt to amplify the sound from the instrument.
I had an odd experience at the beginning of La Musgaña’s show: I could tell that the music was lively, and was well-played, but darned if I could make enough sense out of the sound to comprehend it. It was the cacaphonous aural equivalent of a complex braid: I couldn’t keep track of any strand of it long enough to actually hear the music, I couldn’t tease out the melody or the rhythm — nothing. If you’ve ever turned on a radio and taken moments to catch on to a tune, you know the feeling, but this lasted for minutes.
I’ve listened to — even appreciated — a few groups where the standard elements of music just don’t exist, but this wasn’t it. The fault was clearly my hearing rather than their playing. Then, during “La Abuela del Tiempo”, suddenly it all made sense. And it was glorious. The time signatures may have been part of my problem — 5/8 takes some time for my ears to become accustomed to, although my feet found a pattern far faster.
Another favorite tune of the evening was “Las Inviernas” — a dark, foreboding offertory (ie, intended to be played during the offertory section of a Mass). The drum sounds like a heartbeat, the moody violin builds the suspense, and the weird, scratchy sound of the hurdy-gurdy made for an extraordinarily powerful experience.
A little later, Jaime explained, “We say we play difficult dark music because we are people with problems” but the next tune was a happy song that celebrates the beginning of a holiday. On the other hand, this song is from Northern Spain, which may explain the cheerfulness.
It’s been eight years since the group’s last US tour. Then, pipe-and-tabor player Quique Almendros was with the group, and although he has since had a stroke that kept him from continuing to perform, he was remembered at the concert.
(Arlington, MA, January 19, 2007)
