El amor brujo
Manuel de Falla
Composed: 1914-1915; 1916; 1921-1925
Length: c. 45 minutes
Orchestration: 2 flutes (2nd = piccolo), oboe (= English horn), 2 clarinets, bassoon, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, bells, piano, and strings
First Los Angeles Philharmonic performance (complete score): February 13, 1930, with contralto Mina Hager, Artur Rodzinski conducting
Although Falla owed much to a formative sojourn in Paris, where he learned from colleagues such as Debussy, Ravel, and Dukas, his music remained firmly rooted in Spanish arts, both folk and classical. Moreover, the majority of his most important scores are music for the theater — zarzuelas, ballets, operas, incidental music. It was the two-act opera La vida breve that served as his introduction in Paris, and the sounds of his homeland were never long out of Falla’s creative imagination; the principal work of his Paris years was the Siete canciones populares españolas.
Falla left Paris at the beginning of World War I. His first work back in Madrid was El amor brujo, in its original form a gitanería of dances, songs, and spoken texts. (“Love, the Magician” is how the work is usually translated into English, but brujo can be an adjective as well as a noun, and “Love Bewitched” might be a closer idea.) The work was requested by the great dancer Pastora Imperio, whose mother, Rosario la Mejorana, suggested an old Andalusian legend for the subject. Gregorio Martínez Sierra and María Lejárraga, with whom Falla was involved in several projects, wrote the scenario and texts, and the piece had its premiere at the Teatro Lara in Madrid in April 1915.
The music was generally well received, some grumblings about French influence notwithstanding, but the production was not notably successful. Falla then rearranged the work, expanding the instrumentation and revising the scenario for performance in 1916 (on the program with the premiere of Nights in the Gardens of Spain). Later still, the larger orchestration served as the basis for another ballet version, first played in concert in Paris in 1923, then given as a ballet in 1925.
The tale in its final version concerns Candelas, a young widowed gypsy haunted by the ghost of her jealous husband. To free her from his unwanted attention, Candelas and Carmelo, her new lover, must exchange a kiss of perfect love. In a series of dances the ghost first frightens the couple (Dance of Terror), Candelas tries to exorcise it (Ritual Fire Dance), and then her friend Lucia seduces it. While the ghost is distracted by Lucia, Candelas and Carmelo kiss, and then mock the ghost in the final dance (Dance of the Game of Love).
In telling the story from a flamenco perspective, choreographer/director Siudy Garrido has added a prologue in which the four principal characters are introduced by dancers, as well as a new sung character, a witch-like shaman. (There was a similar role in the original gitanería.) The guitarist José Luis Rodríguez created the music for this, as well as for a few transitions between scenes. “This is a great opportunity to embrace Falla’s initial vision, to bring these dancers and musicians together,” Garrido says.
Falla was studying cante jondo, the deep song of Andalusia, at the time of El amor brujo, and every musical aspect of the work reveals the influence of that study. Falla did not quote actual folk songs, relying instead on his knowledge of the idiom to create original “folk art” stunning in its power and authenticity.
“Falla was able to bring flamenco into a classical context, establishing a roadmap for orchestral flamenco,” Garrido says. “This has been a wonderful challenge, to dive inside Falla's music, in its layers and details, for six months, identifying true Spanish elements.”
Perhaps the best-known example of this is the oft-transcribed “Ritual Fire Dance,” the fierce central component of Candelas’ midnight ritual. Equally impressive, however, are the songs and other dances. This is not the prettified orchestral Iberiana of many famous French and Russian “Spanish” scores, but rather an earthy distillation of native impulses. Although a vivid work of theater, El amor brujo is as much a series of intense musical reflections on the power of love as it is sheer story telling. As the composer Charles Koechlin wrote in a review, “Purity of line in the writing, simplicity amid richness, and unexaggerated originality simply leap forth from this work.”
— John Henken is the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s Director of Publications.