The well-known yet unfamiliar music filled the auditorium. The audiences’ gaze lingered on stage, on the lone performer seemingly oblivious to the rapt faces of around 900 spectators. World-renowned classical guitarist Michael Dadap was playing the Five Visayan Serenades for Guitar and by the time he was finished, everybody applauded.
But it wasn’t his traditional barong tagalog or his wispy salt-and-pepper mane that got hold of the crowd, nor was it his gentle features that glued the audience to their seats. It was probably one of the simplest yet most intimate presentations I’ve seen. Devoid of bulky props and fancy décor, the Luce Auditorium’s cozy ambiance was just right for a night of classical guitar music.
I couldn’t have come up with a better way to start August than with a trip down Luce Auditorium to see Michael Dadap in concert. Watching him in action was like looking at a story of a man and his guitar, and the music that spelled their bond. He began by introducing each song and its composers, and after a few tweaks and twists of his guitar strings, his fingers worked their magic as they glide, scurry, and manipulate the strings, thereby producing either the softest tune with his flesh or the fastest jingle with his nails.
I particularly enjoyed Imo Ako, Wala’y Djaga’-djaga’, a Visayan serenade inspired by soft drink crowns the musician and his elder brother used to collect during their childhood years. True to its idea, the complicated string play included the raspy chinking sound made when shaking a bunch of crowns.
I was amazed with Asturias, originally composed for piano by Isaac Albeniz and written for guitar by Segovia and Dahil sa Isang Bulaklak by Ernani Cuenco. I could feel Huling Awit composer Resurrecion Bunyi’s grief writing the song, craving for the company of the poor man she fell in love with before dying of misery.
I liked all the songs in the repertoire but my top five favorites were Agustine Barrios’ Valse Junto del Corazon (Waltz Close to Your Heart), Francisco Tarrega’s Capriccio Arabe, Constancio de Guzman’s Maala-ala Mo Kaya? (Will You Remember?), and Dadap’s very own folk song settings for guitar, Kuratsa Leyte and Pobreng Alindahao.
One couldn’t ignore the hint of Latin influence in Barrios and Tarrega’s music. Barrios’ waltz evidently showcased his native Paraguay’s culture and love for music that burns with passion and romance. It was Tarrega who revolutionized classical guitar music by introducing the complicated banduria technique. The Spanish composer’s gift for music has made him the father of modern classical guitar whose brilliant opus like Cappricio Arabe could never reveal he was born with no nails.
My favorite among the Visayan folk songs played was Kuratsa Leyte, a lively vibrant piece clearly fit for festive occasions. It was, after all, a wedding dance. Visayans might have a different way of showing emotions, as reflected in their folk songs. Dandansoy Ilonggo has such a depressing melody for a happy song, while Pobreng Alindahao Cebuano has a bit lively tune for a sad song.
The repertoire would not be complete without Constancio de Guzman’s Maala-ala mo Kaya? (Will You Remember?), a certified classic that anyone who doesn’t know the song was either a foreigner or probably living under a rock.
The audience stayed till the end, perhaps hoping for an encore. Some hurriedly went backstage to talk or shake hands with the musician. A few friends who got up close and personal with Michael Dadap could only say good things about him. World-renowned as he is his feet remained firmly planted on the ground and his heart securely fastened to his humble beginnings. He was a true Filipino, a true musician, and I could only wish to see him perform again. It was a night of classical guitar songs and mostly Pinoy serenades, a celebration of world class talent, and a story of one man and his guitar.
*Thanks for lending me your ticket, Mickey!
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