Review Summary: One of the coolest things you'll ever hear!
The Classical Guitar. No. 5
Have you ever thought about why there’s an amplification industry around the guitar rather than the violin or the cello, or why electric guitars are a thing in the first place when acoustic and classical guitars are perfectly serviceable instruments? On first thought the answer to this question might seem something like “well, because it’s the guitar!”, and the thought of amplifying a violin would seem strange. And it would be strange. But y tho? Well, it’s not because the guitar is cooler than the other stringed instruments, or because the guitar necessarily sounds better amplified than a double bass or something would. The real reason amplifiers are part and parcel of the guitar industry is because the guitar is a very, very low volume instrument. A non-amplified guitar just cannot compete with other stringed instruments or the piano, let alone horns, winds or an entire orchestra. Writing chamber and orchestral music for the guitar, therefore, is exceedingly difficult, and thus there’s been very little written for the guitar in those genres.
The volume deficiency of the instrument poses a problem to the health of the classical guitar, for if the classical guitar is to survive it needs the ability to play in groups larger than one. So, what’s the classical guitar composer to do? One answer composers have come up with is to write the guitar into obscure duets with an oboe or saxophone or whatever. Obviously, one on one, the guitar has a fighting chance to be heard. But what about the genres that are the meat and potatoes of classical music like quartets, chamber music, and concertos? An obvious avenue for the classical guitar composer is to have the guitar play in their own duets and quartets. Unfortunately, sequestering the guitar in this fashion has only further distanced the guitar from its stringed brethren. It’s not all bad, however, because although guitar on guitar music obviously doesn’t address the volume issue the guitar has when playing with other instruments, there’s a good amount of decent guitar ensemble music out there. As is natural, not all of it is good; some of it’s really bad.
But today I want to talk to you about the really good, and the best place to start is with the LAGQ, the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet. There’s not enough praise I can communicate to you about these boys, so I’ll just hit the basics; The LAGQ is the world’s most renowned guitar quartet. Since using superlatives is easy in writing maybe it sounds like I’m editorializing or something. Well, I’m not. From inception to reception
everything about the LAGQ has been fated for greatness. The LAGQ was formed in 1980 at the music conservatory of USC by William Kanengiser under the direction of Pepe Romero of the legendary Romeros Guitar Quartet. By 1986 the lineup that the world would come to know as the classic LAGQ was formed. It consisted of William Kanengiser, Scott Tennant, John Dearman, and Andrew York, and each one of these dudes are legends in the guitar community for their recordings (Kanengiser/Tennant), pedagogy (Dearman/Tennant—whose guitar handbook
Pumping Nylon has become a world standard), and compositions (York).
I would be remiss if I failed to mention a few other things about the LAGQ: they’ve toured just about everywhere across the world from Hollywood to Carnegie Hall to the Canary Islands to Spain to Berlin to Istanbul to South Korea to Tokyo to Hong Kong and everywhere in between, they’ve been nominated for two GRAMMYS and won one of them for their 2004 record
Guitar Heros, and finally, they’re not your average guitar quartet; their recordings run the gamut from classical to jazz to bluegrass to rock and more.
One of the pieces that brought the LAGQ critical acclaim is their shtick on Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The story goes that sometime before the release of their 1996 album
For Thy Pleasure—a recording of Baroque classics—someone, probably either their manager or the record label, requested that they do a recording of Pachelbel’s Canon in D for the album. The guys didn’t want to do it. Frankly, the Canon in D isn’t all that intellectually stimulating, especially for musicians of their caliber, and the guys didn’t want to learn the piece well enough for a polished recording unless maybe they could do something cool with it, and boy are their variations cool.
The seeds for a riff on Pachelbel’s Canon were planted back in 1986 when the LAGQ had been contracted to do a bunch of concerts for elementary children in and around Los Angeles. More than just playing, the guys toyed with ideas on how to make music fun and educational for the young students, and one of these ideas was for variations on a well-known tune, one that children would know, like the Canon in D. Although the guys didn’t end up writing their version of the Canon in D at that time, they didn’t scrap the idea either, leaving it on the back burner. Later, when the guys were asked to record the Canon the time was right to bring their idea to fruition. Luckily for us, the record label assented, and the boys ended up writing seven variations, each one in a different genre and each one as awesome as the last. The genres of the variations in order are as follows: Reggae, Tumbao, Bluegrass, Funk, Jazz, Grunge, and Rumba.
First, though, let’s talk a bit about the theme, the music off which this really cool piece is based. What exactly is a Canon? If you’ve ever heard “Row Row Row Your Boat”, you’ve heard one. They’re pretty simple. Basically, a Canon is a piece in which several voices play the same music, each one entering at an equally proportioned interval of time, every two measures in this case. In Pachelbel’s Canon three voices are in canon while the continuo in the bass acts freely.
The backbone of the Pachebel’s Canon is in the bass with the ever-familiar tune that cycles through the tonic notes of circle of fourths in D which in this case is I-V-vi-iii-IV-I-IV-V (D,A,B,F#,G,D,G,A,). It’s sweet, peaceful and just really touches the tenderness in the heart. The bass repeats this sequence in perpetuo. The Canon is in 4/4 (four quarter notes per measure), and as you can see, each beat of the theme gets one note, eight altogether for a total of two even measures. The first voice enters two measures in, then the second two measures later, then the third two measures after that, each voice playing the music that has sounded in the two measures prior to their entrance, and then following each other after that.
Now for the LAGQ rendition. We begin with the theme, beautifully scored by Kanengiser who plays an arpeggiated version of the bass which he elongates to four measures instead of two and cycles for a total of five times (twenty measures). The next three voices enter four measures apart, each playing the notes in the way Pachelbel wrote them until we end on a half-cadence waiting to be resolved. Now the real fun begins. It’s time for some Reggae. The bass enters playing the theme in syncopated chords (rather than on the beat and in single notes) followed by a really cool syncopated line in the first voice that the other voices do not repeat and that essentially acts as accompaniment and as a bassline, but still again follows the prescribed chord progression. The piece is called “loose” for a reason. Next comes the second voice playing again in syncopation with the melody in thirds that Kanengiser infuses with an air of improvisation. The third voice follows in canon eight measures later. Just like the theme, the Reggae variation is sweet, tender and uplifting, as Reggae often is.
After the tenderness of the theme and first variation the boys pick up the pace and start having some fun. The second variation employs an Afro-Cuban rhythm called the Tumbao, a rhythm which never plays on the beat and uses continual tied notes across beats and measures. It’s a sprightly rhythm, makes you want to dance, and is perfectly suited for the guitar. Here, instead of sounding the Tumbao in the bass, Dearman plays the Tumbao in the higher register of the instrument, followed by percussion accompaniment also in a Tumbao rhythm by Tennant. Kanengiser enters with the melody that follows the same shape as the one by Pachelbel, but like the other voices utilizes syncopation, and then for the first time scalure runs. York follows in canon two beats later building until the quartet crescendos on the tonic.
Now it’s time for some bluegrass. I would never have thought that the classical guitar could imitate the banjo, not until I heard this variation. Like all bluegrass, the variation is high-energy and propulsive. Instead of the voices entering one by one, they all come in at the same time except for Tennant who waits for the genre characteristic solo, Dearman strumming chords in the bass and Kanengiser and York sharing a variated version of the famous sixteenth-note run from the original. And then comes the solo. Holy crap. I don’t know if there’s anyone else in the world who can imitate a banjo on the classical guitar so well. Tennant’s fingers move so fast its mind boggling, and the notes of the solo capture the essence of Appalachia herself.
The funk variation will surely bring a smile, if not a laugh, to your face. These guys are serious professionals; they really know their way around the ins and outs of all musical genres, even ones, like funk, that aren’t at all typical for the classical guitar, and so it’s a real treat to hear them do it. Dearman does his best Flea impersonation, Tennant has percussion, York accompaniment, and Kanengiser takes a tasty solo that makes much use of electric guitar techniques like the slide and the snap-bend.
With the Jazz variation, you’d have little idea that it’s based off the Canon in D, which makes the fact that it clearly is even more impressive. Dearman plays a walking bassline that follows the proscriptive chord progression, this time a bit more flavored with sevenths added in, Tennant the percussion, and Kanengiser chordal accompaniment. For York, this is his time to shine, he’s the jazziest of the bunch. His solo is tasty asf. He makes use of quintessential sunny sonorities and varied rhythms full of deep greens and blues (he does play it with a pick though which is pretty cringy). The dude outta be wearing a beret and sunglasses, taking puffs of a cigarette he’s stuck in the headboard a la Stevie Ray Vaughan.
If you remember, after the jazz variation comes the grunge one. Yes, the grunge one. Chugga-chugga-choo-choo! Kanengiser begins by playing speedy power chords that follow the proscriptive chord progression. As he’s strumming on V (Amaj) the other three make their entrance, York imitating the slide of a guitar pick down the neck. After a repeat of the brief material, the boys bellow “PACHELBEL!” in a unison gang-chant. You should see the look on Kanengisers face. It’s pure, genuine joy. There’s another repeat and then it’s time for the finale.
The seventh and final variation is a rumba flamenca, a style of flamenco developed in Andalusia. This type of rumba features a duple meter with eight beats grouped into a 3+3+2 pattern and a particular strumming pattern absent other types of rumba. Tennant is an absolute wizard; he might as well be an old-world flamenco player on the streets of Granada. Kanengiser takes the melody which is high-energy and vocal, and with it comes the sweetness of the theme perfectly complemented by the second voice played by York. We’ve come full circle. We end on a crescendo of strummed tonic chords to the thunderous clapping of the audience.
The LAGQ have helped make the classical guitar respectable in the eyes of tradition. They are consummate professionals who cultivate and care for their craft with the utmost of seriousness. And yet they’re also capable of writing and playing something as cool as the loose variations on Pachelbel’s Canon, and believe me, this is seriously one of the coolest things you’ll ever hear.
