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Ms. Lafourcade’s One-Woman Fiesta New York
Isaac Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall
10/10/2024 -
Roberto Sierra: Alegrìa
Arturo Márquez: Danzón No. 9
Gabriela Ortiz: Antrópolis
Natalia Lafourcade (Vocalist)
Brooklyn Youth Chorus, Dianne Beerkun Menaker (Artistic Director), Los Angeles Philharmonic Gustavo Dudamel (Music and Artistic Director, Conductor)
N. Lafourcade, G. Dudamel (© Fadi Kheir)
“Classical music in Venezuela is now something like a pop concert. You can see people screaming or crying because they don’t have a ticket.”
Gustavo Dudamel
Two nights ago, Gustavo Dudamel climaxed his first Los Angeles Philharmonic concert with a rousing Malambo dance by Ginastera, straight from the Argentine pampas. Missing from the program notes, though, was the most appropriate line, “Continued on October 10th.”
Nor is “continued” the right work. Maestro Dudamel last night augmented, agitated and roared up the South- and Central American rhythms with a full evening of song, dance and of course orchestra.
And while most was linguistically incompressible to half of the audience, the other half clapped, swayed, moved with the movements.
A good reason for the incomprehensibility: when in Central America or Spain, I can get along with the language. But when a singer comes on stage with such majesty and delight, with almost no English, one must gaze and wonder. For Natalia Lafourcade is not only a prima diva in Central America and Mexico, but last night she was a force of nature.
Perhaps I had heard her before, on buses in Venezuela, Costa Rica or Ecuador. But I never listened. Here, for the second half of the concert, Ms. Laforurcade showed a voice, rhythm (she came near to dancing but mostly walked and pranced), and, above all, a style rare for any artist.
This was a voice that growled, recited, gave lyrical impetus to songs which she may have written (she was billed as “Singer-Songwriter”, a banal phrase not even used for Franz Schubert). Each song was introduced with snappy Spanish patter, but a large part of audience knew immediately words and music.
I could have heard her sing without any assistance. (And yes, in one of her songs, she recited alone, sounding like Leonora in Fidelio). But she did have help. First, Gustavo Dudamel, who grew up in Caracas with this music, had obviously created special orchestral accompaniment. These long introductions, with many a First Chair L.A. Phil player, had an artifice that was hardly needed, but were not unseemly.
And this music was backed up by guitar, piano, piano accordion, vocals and drums, apparently her own ensemble.
N. Lafourcade & Brooklyn Youth Chorus (© Fadi Kheir)
Far more original was the entrance of the Brooklyn Youth Chorus. They sung with her, they swayed, clapped, possibly hummed (they were in the back of the stage) and made a charming background setting.
Yet most impressive of all was Ms. Lafourcade’s non‑vocal personality. Her joyous entrance saluting conductor frequently embracing the Maestro, orchestra and audience seemed actually sincere. And as she gazed up at the topmost balcony, with her youngest most impecunious fans, her greeting was a display of what seemed to be genuine.
One cannot, should not ignore the three deft composers who offered dance‑style orchestral works. Puerto Rican‑born Roberto Sierra is frequently played in New York and his Alegría was a pounding “happiness”. Arturo Márquez dedicated his Ninth Danzón to the conductor. It is far more than a dance. More like a Dvorák furiant with trumpet solos and sharp rhythmic changes.
Last on this first half was Antrópolis, by Gabriela Ortiz. No relation (thank heaven) to Coppola’s Megalopolis, but a paean to the “emblematic dance halls of Mexico City.”
These were all worthy and worthily performed by the L.A. Phil. Yet in all honesty, it was Natalia Lafouracade who brought her singular artistry to youths to Senor Citizens, from the hallowed Carnegie Hall soaring into a Manhattan-Mexican-Iberian cosmos.
Harry Rolnick
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