From Ariel Rámirez’ gorgeous Missa Criolla, as performed by José Carreras.
My boyfriend turned me on to this beautiful album in the early years of our courtship. His dad was a bigwig at Philips, bringing home one of the first CD players and high-end digital recordings like this one.
If I correctly remember the story, a producer was on holiday in Spain and had his mind blown when he heard a small-town choir and orchestra performing in the local church. All the performers were locals — butchers, barbers, bakers, but they came together in that church to make music of a rare and furtive power.
This producer called in José Carreras (who would shortly thereafter be treated for leukemia) as well as some additional session musicians, including the composer of the Misa Criolla himself as pianist. It was a bunch as eclectic as the music they’d make together; unequal parts South American, Spanish and Latin, with roots in diverse, but unified traditions.
Lastly, they sought out some beardy nerds from my home country, as Philips boasted the finest sound engineers in the world. They wanted to record on-site, in that little old church, to capture the magical resonance the producer had heard that first time.
My boyfriend’s mother had an old VHS tape of a documentary about the engineering prowess that went into capturing a live performance in such a space, for digital mixing no less. The long-haired Dutchmen would carefully place corrugated sound baffling sheets just here, and then aim the microphone just there to catch just that reflection…
There was a really funny bit, too: an exhausting siku panflute solo that had the (bearded) panflautist red in the face was to be followed by Carreras bellowing “Balthazar!” except he kept mangling it to “Balzathar!”. While Carreras kept his good humor at his repeated flubs, you could see the panflautist very rapidly reaching the point of explosion.
While I prefer the version on the album, I know that’s mostly because I’ve listened to it so often. This version is very good too. I especially love how the guy in the green is so moved by the spirits when he plucks the strings of his little charango.
