Walking through the light snow and rain before we went inside the 92nd street Y, I told Miss Y I felt a little sickly. Today, this last day of the year and decade, was also my last day with my employer, WebMD, having left to stake out on my own. I was a mixed bag of emotions, overlaid with fatigue, and the shifts in temperature from the subway to chilly outside weather to warm indoors was burrowing an itch at the back of my throat. Ooh boy, under different circumstances, I would've much rather preferred to stay home.
But then I had been waiting to see The Romeros for years and had bought tickets way in advance to guarantee the best seats in the house. So there was no way I was gonna miss this concert. How good were the seats? Well, in the picture below you see Miss Y, and I was on her right
One thing I realized however, seated this close, was that it feels totally embarrassing to take pictures! For one, it's not allowed. And while the 92Y is much less strict at enforcing the rules than say, Stern Auditorium in Carnegie Hall, the performers can easily see me and I'm sure they'd hear the shutter click. It had to be done, but it had to be done with utmost sensitivity, picture quality be damned.
The Romeros came in to warm applause, from left to right, Celin, the eldest, followed by Lito (Angel's son), Celino (Celin's son), and team captain, Pepe. If you're a classical music lover, surely no introduction is necessary.
The program started with all four playing selections from Estampas by Torroba. I'm sure all of us here have experienced that special feeling where during a concert we're suddenly transported to a magical place. Tonight I didn't expect to be transported immediately from the very first notes, the hackneyed cliche that comes to mind is it felt like I died and had gone to heaven. As an audiophile, it felt like that first time I heard special effects ping ponging around my head while wearing headphones, except that this was done with guitar notes. For guitar players, however, you'd immediately realize how superbly the Romeros have crafted their sound.
Celin, on the far right, playing a spruce top guitar was the anchor. Most of his parts are meant to provide structure-- I noticed he preferred playing bass lines with the flesh of the thumb which took me a while to understand but eventually I got that he "extended" the mellow character of Pepe's, playing beside him. While Celin's role can be thought of as the most minimal, he is the "father," stepping into the role of the late Celedonio. Pepe's cedar top guitar was much more sweeter and rounder, not as incisive but as much as this guitar is among the best I've ever heard, Pepe's playing was perhaps the best Spanish guitar I've ever heard. Such delicacy and nuance and with perfect rhythm and elegance. Touches of flamenco technique embellish his playing but done with proper sentiment and balance. There are classical guitarists and flamenco guitarists. Pepe is the archetype of the Spanish guitarist.
Celino, to Pepe's right, was the perfect sonic foil. His was the "aggresivo" to Pepe's "cariƱoso." While his sound lacked the depth of character of Pepe's, his guitar had more body and extension and his ponticello playing is delicioso-- sharp, precise, with fantastic control. It's also obvious that someday he'll be the torch bearer for his family. Finally, beside Celino, his cousin Lito, also playing a spruce, reminded me so much of Angel, that in one rare moment of transport after he played solo, I blurted, "Bravo Angel." Sonically he was in between Pepe and Celino, often playing the role Angel played to Pepe's.
Here's a sample of their playing, not from today's program, and with Celin and Lito swapping positions.
As this was a New Year's Eve party, champagne was served during intermission. This concert had a good turnout.
After the intermission, Pepe played some popular Albeniz encores-- Rumores de la Caleta, Sevilla and a duet with Celin on Granada (video below from an earlier concert)--
Before we knew it, the concert was over. The year was about to end and we had a long subway ride home. But then, all my ailments had vanished, I was floating on air and the night, yes, the night was young.
Thanks for reading!