Argentinian composer Ariel Ramírez’s Misa Criolla claims to be the “first setting of the Roman/Latin-rite Mass in a vernacular tongue”, emerging almost simultaneously with the 1963 decree of the Second Vatican Council that authorized practice of the liturgy in languages other than Latin. And not only was its Spanish language text unique, but the composer set the words in the musical idioms of his native country. Needless to say, the movements are flavored with the rhythms and instruments of folk-dance and the melodies and harmonies immediately appeal with their familiar, easily singable, simple forms. This mass, conceived for liturgical purpose, was something of a “hit” when it premiered on a recording in the mid-1960s, and it’s still performed in concert if only rarely these days in the context of a church service.
More interesting–and enchanting–to my ears is Ramírez’s Navidad Nuestra, his setting of six poems by Felix Luna, “a cycle of poems that situate the Christmas story in the homespun of Argentine folklore” and speak in a unique way to the poor, the disenfranchised, the persecuted and exploited common people. Ramirez assigns a different dance style to each tableau, and through this sequence of stories we experience the entire 12 days of Christmas, from the Annunciation (here the Angel Gabriel visits a Guarani Indian girl) to the journey of the Magi (dancing kings who bring “a poncho of the best wool”), and ending with the flight of Joseph and Mary and the Infant Jesus–celebrated as the Feast of the Holy Innocents–to escape Herod’s brutal child-massacre. The music in these scenes is wonderfully colorful and evocative–well worth multiple hearings. Compelling too is Oscar Sixto Bareilles’ set of three Argentine folksongs, Flor de Chañar. The second of these, Baguala, is a strange and irresistible mix of spiritual and early-American hymn-tune styles, an affecting and memorable lament that remains with you long after the music ends.
The singing, by Coro Hispano de San Francisco, whose members are drawn from the Spanish-speaking communities of the Bay Area, is first rate–expectedly idiomatic and fully engaged in the spirit and style of the music. Highlights include the tender, touching performance of the unnamed soprano soloist in Navidad Nuestra’s “El Nacimiento” (The Birth), and the following “Los Pastores”, a scene that leaves no doubt that this group of shepherds really knows how to have a good time! Recorded at two different venues over a period of three years, the sound is somewhat inconsistent in matters of spatial orientation, balance between soloists and small groups versus the full ensemble, and in overall perspective. None of this matters much in terms of our ability to simply enjoy the proceedings, which give us a real sense of both celebration and thoughtful reflection on the consequence of Christ’s birth and its meaning for millions of people, many of whom happen to live in a Spanish-speaking world.
