A classical evening for a carillon tower

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By John Anthony S. Estolloso

On rare occasions, you might hear a quaint melody drifting from the carillon bells of St. Clement’s Church. High up in their rundown tower, they chime the Marian hymns of our childhood. Now, this tower is up for repair and renovation – and what better way to raise funds for a structure dedicated to musical bells than with an evening of classical music?

The National Museum of the Philippines – Iloilo played host to this classical evening last February 20. While crowds paraded towards the Freedom Grandstand in celebration of Chinese New Year, a modest group of classical music enthusiasts congregated at the museum to attend the Red Charity Gala, a rather demure soiree dedicated to raising some amount for the refurbishment of St. Clement’s carillon tower.

Graced by the presence of the Redemptorist Fathers, the evening promised a display of virtuosic talent. Granted, the ambiance was informal, in the most intense sense of the word: amid the music, there were hushed conversations in the background, the clinking of glasses on the museum’s upper floor, and the restrained motions of photography at the sides. Suffice to say that it was an evening most opulent – but I can only write for the music.

Sometime between the cocktails and the conversations, the Davao Suzuki Youth Orchestra opened the evening’s performance with a medley of folksongs and excerpts from Bach. An all-string rendition of ‘Kruhay’ sounded exotic, sans the familiar guttural power delivered by the human voice.

Evgeny Ukhanov’s Chopin and Liszt on the piano at the onset of the programme were a generally charming preface, played as if to anticipate and foreshadow a showcasing of musical virtuosity for the rest of the evening. The tempo was riddled with subtle rubati, but the clarity of phrasing more than made up for his musicality.

Soprano Karina Gay Manlutac Balajadia-Liggayu lent her voice to a tremulously plaintive ‘Kundiman ng Langit’, her soaring crescendos tempered by the delicate spirituality of the lyrics; she would reprise this with Francisco Santiago’s ‘Ave Maria’ at the programme’s end.

Taking the spotlight of the evening was Prof. Renato Lucas on the cello (erstwhile principal on the instrument for the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra) and Lyon Lopez on the guitar. The duo’s brilliance on the instruments brought to life an obscura of pieces infused with Latino pathos and fire: compositions by Maximo Diego Pujol, Roland Dyens, Astor Piazzolla, Enrique Granados, and Manuel de Falla inundated (or should it be complemented?) the restlessness at the museum’s atrium. In all appearances, the Hispanic nuance seems to be a common musical denominator among these musicians, Filipino composers included.

For instance, one usually encounters Antonio Molina’s Hatinggabi as a nocturne, an andante mood-piece for a romantic, moonlit midnight. In that evening’s performance, the tempo di habanera – as dance and not merely as harmony – dominated the delivery: the nocturne was transformed into a seduction, flaring with flair, as if to match the Latin verve of the tangos.

Played on the cello and accompanied by guitar, Ennio Morricone’s themes from his film scores for ‘Cinema Paradiso’ and ‘The Mission’ were sparsely haunting and nostalgic: here is Italian music meant more to be seen and not just heard. The latter especially was poignant (and personal to me): one can hardly detach the Jesuit undertones from the melody, especially when it wafts forth from the cello.

Emphasizing the religiosity of the concert’s endeavor, two versions of the Ave Maria were performed: Bach-Gounod’s and Santiago’s. One can hardly be unfamiliar with the former: every pianist begins with that Bach prelude, and who can escape the contemplative lilt of Gounod’s melody? On the cello and guitar, the salutation of the angel was elevated as soulful meditation. Sung as Santiago’s sacred aria, the Marian prayer became a heartfelt invocation to an enduring Muse, one ready to perpetually succor us.

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As the highlight of the evening, the prospective design of the refurbished carillon tower was unveiled to the public. Sleek yet architecturally stark in design, it is crowned with a tower clock overlooking the vicinity with its imperious gaze, as if to both look back into the city’s history and onto a promising future. For our part, we look forward to the day the tower reopens – and once again, to experience and relish the music it keeps within.

(The writer is a language and literature teacher in one of the private schools in the city.)