Zoran Dukić, a guitarist highly acclaimed in Europe but little known in the U.S., performed at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music on Friday night, presented by the Omni Foundation and San Francisco Performances. In a much anticipated second local appearance, following his debut in 2008 when David Tanenbaum invited him to open the Guitar Foundation of America Festival, Dukić stirred an enthusiastic audience with his passionate interpretations, sensitive musicality, and bravura technique. The artistically ambitious program featured compelling interpretations of works by Telemann, Barrios, and Piazzolla, along with a U.S. premiere by Dusan Bogdanovic and major sonatas by two contemporary composers from Eastern Europe.
It was a bold and unusual move to open the recital with the excellent sonatas by Atanas Ourkouzounov and Vojislav Ivanovic. Guitar audiences are accustomed to the familiar, and the first half of the recital was more like the program of a pianist known for adventurous explorations than like a typical guitar program. Dukić obviously knows what today’s audiences enjoy and how to reach them with his performances. The Sonata by Ivanovic, written for and dedicated to Dukić himself, was full of unusual and riveting textures, explored a wide range of dynamics and moods, and was performed with a fantastic sense of drama. I was sadly late to the recital and missed the beginning of the Sonata by Ourkouzounov, but I can report that the last movement, with its percussive conclusion, was spectacular. The works of both composers were met with zealous applause by the audience, and at intermission even the most sophisticated listeners seemed brimming with admiration.
The music after intermission was mostly familiar but always fresh and compelling. While Georg Philipp Telemann is a well-known Baroque composer, his 12 Fantasias, originally for solo violin, are little known. The Fantasia No. 1 is in four movements: a tender Largo that Dukić interpreted with a dulcet tone almost shocking in the intimacy it conveyed, a vivacious if formulaic Allegro, a bleakly grieving Grave, and a da capo Allegro.
At intermission even the most sophisticated listeners seemed brimming with admiration.
Agustin Barrios is a deservedly well-known composer, but two of his three works that Dukić presented are little heard in recital. The Prelude in C Minor uses a recurring two-note motive to explore chromatic harmony, in the style of Chopin meditating on Bach. The Caazapá is based on a traditional Paraguayan melody. In both works Dukić used a heartfelt Romantic approach to rhythm that conjured up Barrios’ image of himself as a kindred spirit to the wandering medieval troubadours. When the set concluded with the more familiar Choro de Saudade, Dukić took an unusually slow tempo that emphasized the melancholy melody and haunting harmonies. It was the most moving Barrios set I have ever heard.
Astor Piazzolla’s Invierno Porteño, as arranged by Sergio Assad, was given a dark and moody interpretation. Adios Nonino, Piazzolla’s loving reminiscence of his father, as arranged for guitar by Cacho Tirao, was alternately sweet and impassioned.
Staying True to the Spirit
The high point on the exceptional recital was provided by the music of Dusan Bogdanovic, an internationally acclaimed composer who served on the faculty at the San Francisco Conservatory from 1990 to 2007. The Fantasy (Hommage à M. Ohana) was written for and dedicated to Zoran Dukić and, in the spirit of the Renaissance Fantasias of John Dowland, is both improvisatory and contrapuntal. Intensely emotional, polymodal, and rhythmically complex, it features, near the end, a quotation of Ohana’s Tiento, which Bogdanovic characterizes as “like a mirage from another world.” Bogdanovic’s Six Balkan Miniatures is a plea for peace that memorializes six regions of war-torn Yugoslavia through their characteristic folk music. Both works were ideal vehicles for Dukić’s unique abilities as an interpreter. The Six Balkan Miniatures, in particular, were given an intense and moving interpretation, far from the supposed limitations of the score and yet totally true to the spirit of the composition.
The audience responded with a standing ovation and was rewarded with an encore, Ave María ¡Que muchacho! by Vincente Sojo.