John Williams: Magic Box
Sony Classical SK 89483 CD. John Williams, prod., Geoff
Foster, eng. DDD. TT: 56:55.
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 No, not the John
Williams who composes all those film scores, but the John Williams who regularly
astonishes guitarists and normal people alike with his polished guitar technique and
soulful musical explorations.
Williams is, of course, a guitarists' guitarist. He's got
chops -- it's quite possible that he's the finest guitarist on the planet, if such a
distinction has any merit. But he also possesses an incredible sense of musicality and a
way with a tune that is nothing short of loving. Over the years, Williams has consistently
sought to add new material to the narrow -- some might say confining -- repertoire of the
classical guitar, which itself was practically established by one man (Segovia) earlier in
this century.
Williams was an early champion of the great Cuban guitarist
and composer Leo Brouwer and has recorded several discs of music by composers not
typically associated with the classical guitar -- Astor Piazzolla, Charlie Byrd, Toru
Takemitsu -- as well as composers he believed needed greater exposure, such as Ponce,
Barrios, Antonio Lauro, and the young Andrew York. He has also recorded several albums of
duets with Julian Bream (Together and Together Again) which are delightfully
un-doctrinaire -- and which boast phenomenally lifelike sound.
On The Magic Box, Williams looks to Africa, the Cape
Verde Islands and Madagascar for inspiration. Unlike South America, which nearly
universally adopted the guitar or variations thereof during its Spanish colonization,
Africa remained aloof to the instrument -- at least until this century -- for a variety of
reasons, not least among them the existence of indigenous stringed instruments with their
own rich traditions, such as the kora.
But in the 20th Century, especially the last half of it, a
number of influential African guitarists popularized the instrument. Zairian Jean Mwenda
("Bosco" to his admirers) forged a blues-rooted classical style that was
particularly influential. Cape Verdean and Malagasy musicians, reflecting the influence of
their Portuguese colonizers, also forged a swinging style of guitar music that owed more
than a bit to that other colony, Brazil.
Cameroonian novelist, ethnomusicologist, composer,
guitarist, sanza player (also called mbira or thumb piano, it's a small
gourd fitted with metal tongues or keys which are "plucked"), and singer Francis
Bebey created a type of pan-African folk-infused music, which ranks among the most lovely
and unforgettable ever recorded. Bebey's records are available throughout the world and I
highly recommend them, particularly Akwaaba. (Bebey also wrote a fabulously
readable classic in ethnomusicology, African Music: A People's Art.) Shortly after
celebrating his 70th birthday -- between the time The Magic Box was recorded and
released -- Bebey died of a heart attack in May 2001.
Williams plays five of Bebey's works on this disc,
including the title track, which describes a wind-up gramophone. Was the singer in the box
or on the record? Bebey even joins Williams in the performance of "Engome,"
singing and playing sanza. The other three Bebey tunes are makossa, infectious
dance tunes driven by a bouncy tattoo played on an empty bottle with a fork. These are
energetic and fun, capable of setting even the most leaden of gringo hips in motion.
Like the makossa, the three Malagasy tunes on the
disc are also irresistibly a call to motion, but as much as they create a dance groove,
they remain gentle and low key -- we Westerners don't have anything quite like this music.
They're seductively ebullient without a hint of frenzy or agitation.
The true high point on the disc is the African National
Congress' anthem, "Nekosi Sikelel'I Afrika," in an arrangement by
Williams in which his musicians first explore the theme together and then accompany the
African Children's Choir. It works on so many levels -- as a statement of quiet pride, as
a hymn, as music that transcends place (Williams uses zampoņa -- panflutes -- to
create a less African, more "world" feel). The performance by the children's
choir is remarkable. They're pitch perfect, with none of those boy's choir intonation
problems that tarnish so many otherwise stellar performances. The effect is quite simply
sublime.
Williams is joined on (or is it in?) The Magic
Box by a quartet of fine musicians. John Etheridge, who trades solos with him on his
steel-stringed guitar, is impeccable (what else?) and frequently as amazingly proficient
as Williams. Richard Harvey on flutes and whistles and Chris Laurence on string bass are
also remarkable, but the standout for me is Paul Clarvis' fluid, supple hand drumming.
The Magic Box sounds fantastic, too. The various
guitars are all easily differentiated one from the other and they sound as if they were
recorded in a large, comfortable room, not some antiseptic laboratory. Well, d'uh!,
I just checked the CD booklet and it was recorded in London's AIR Studios, surely one of
the best-sounding venues on earth. The snap of fingernail against string or the sound of
palm hitting drumhead is also crisply articulated, but in a warm, relaxed manner. You
couldn't ask for better, more supportive sound.
With such wide-ranging material and such talented
collaborators, it's no wonder that The Magic Box is, ummm, so magical. Don't
lump it in with other crossover albums -- it isn't one of those, it's one more step in the
evolution of John Williams, guitarist, and additional evidence, as though any were needed,
that Williams' way with a simple folk melody is one of the true pleasures available to us
on this earth. It's also a loving -- and quite fitting -- tribute to the amazing Francis
Bebey, a musician worth discovering and cherishing for what he has achieved here and
elsewhere.
...Wes Phillips
wes@onhifi.com
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