Photo: Álvaro Salazar . © Bruno Nacarato
Questionnaire/Interview
When and where did music begin for you? Did your family support your initiation in music?
Álvaro Salazar: I could have been born in a musical family, as Bach's sons, but this wasn't the case. Although – either at my parents' or my maternal grandparents' home – one used to listen to a lot of music. One also played the piano. All of the women from that time knew to play the piano – for example, my mother used to play quite well. When I was little, a child (an infant almost), I sat in the piano room, listening to my mother playing and from a certain moment I began to ask her: "play this" or "play that". Therefore, I ended up developing a musical instinct – if one really has such an instinct... in me it was then awaken.
In my family there were various amateur musicians. I have a cousin who lives in Lisbon and who is a couple of years older than me. Recently, and already at an advanced age, she made a Gregorian music course, having later lectured on these subjects.
Here in the neighbourhood I had some colleagues – teenager boys. We used to meet at their place to play some light music: songs, fados, among other things. At that time I was also studying Spanish guitar and I accompanied them. These meetings and their environment also helped to develop in me this instinct, so from a certain moment I started having a somewhat superior position towards these friends of mine. I used to say: "You enjoy banal music, and I like other things". Because I was accustomed to the music we used to listen to at home.
I started going a lot to concerts, not missing anything what happened here in Porto. I used to follow the activity of the Porto Orchestra, which at that time was a Symphony Orchestra of the Portuguese National Broadcaster – unfortunately with great limitations. Let's say that only recently has there been a substantial improvement, when the present orchestra in Porto was created – the Porto Symphony Orchestra Casa da Música. And this is an ensemble of an European level and importance – it can perform any work, either in its headquarters, or abroad where it makes tours many times. It's an orchestra with significant musical activity and with important achievements.
Can you distinguish the moment when you felt that music was indeed the path for you to follow? Was it a moment or rather a process?
Álvaro Salazar: It's interesting. My mother, despite her musical capacities, didn't want me to study only music. And my father went crazy. Why? He wanted me to graduate from an academic course that would give money. His idea was that I would have a profitable profession and not an unprofitable one, which was music at that time.
Nevertheless, nowadays many musicians complain that to follow this career is also not easy and unprofitable...
Álvaro Salazar: Yes, but presently it has improved substantially. My father wanted another thing for me – and this took my whole adolescence: me wanting to do one thing and him opposing it. Nevertheless, finally after a lot of discussion we made an “entente cordiale”: I would go the the Conservatoire to study music, etc., but simultaneously I had to study at another superior course.
And so it was – I graduated from Law at the University of Lisbon. And at the National Conservatoire I studied instruments, not to become a performer, but with the perspective of my idea of composition. What I really wanted was to become a composer. In any case, I studied oboe, the English horn, a little bit of double bass, piano, etc. – not with the aim to be the best in the world playing violin or piano...
You didn't want to be a virtuoso...
Álvaro Salazar: These and other instruments made part of the composition curriculum. And I wanted to compose. I need to say that at that time at the Conservatoire composition was somewhat out-of-date. The professors were rather interested in the more or less distant past – they had studied at the French school and then they came back because of the war. But they were defenders of neoclassicism – composers who thought that Hindemith was amazing, that Stravinsky from the neoclassical phase was the one that really interested... that is... they had these ideas, which I had to overcome. And there was only one way to do it... to learn on my own.
So you decided to follow your own path...
Álvaro Salazar: Yes, I followed this path as autodidact. Later, I was holder of the Gulbenkian Foundation scholarship, I went to study abroad, etc. When I graduated from the Faculty of Law, I found myself in a situation of still not having anything in any area – I still didn't have a legal profession, and in music I still didn't have the necessary means to be recognized as composer and to work in this context.
So it took some more years... years, during which I did various things... I can mention some of them: I was at the magistracy (only during a couple of months). Then, I went to Austria, to Vienna, to study music. So I abandoned the magistracy. I also started a diplomatic career. In this sense I came to work at the Embassy of Portugal in Rio de Janeiro... this in itself would be an enormous story, which I have already told many times, so I think that it doesn't make sense to come back to this subject. The most important thing is that in 1972 I came back to Portugal, I got unattached from the diplomatic career and I said to myself: "Now it's only music, and nothing else!"
At the time of your diplomatic career, were you already composing?
Álvaro Salazar: Yes I was, although in a somewhat incipient manner. In 1972 I settled in Lisbon, more specifically in Parede, and I was contracted by the Conservatoire. So I started giving lessons right away – I didn't teach composition, but rather musical education, among other more primary, but important subjects.
Then I applied for a scholarship to go to France. I received it in 1973 and went to Paris, where I lived during some years. In Paris I contacted the GRM – Groupe de Recherches Musicales, where I worked with Pierre Schaeffer and his students: François Bayle, Guy Reibel and others. It was the concrete music school and I remember that one of my colleagues, the Romanian composer Horațiu Rădulescu was dismissed from the course, and only because he presented a piece of electronic music. This was not appropriate for the musique concrète Temple of Paris!
Curiously – and I'm telling this as an anecdote – many years later, I was in Lisbon as professor at the Conservatoire and there was a concert and a meeting with Pierre Schaeffer at the Gulbenkian Foundation. To my astonishment, since Pierre Shaeffer also had with him some of his works, like... the Symphonie pour un homme seul (1940-50), etc... these kind of works. But also, he brought a reel-to-reel audio tape to be listened to... and it was electronic music! Imagine my astonishment – so he had been an irreducible adversary of electronic music and in the end... Then he went to Paris and, curiously, if by any chance this work exists, who is in its possession? Me! I kept the tape. When Pierre Schaeffer left to Paris, I wasn't able to give it back. And it was a huge tape. So to conclude the anecdote: one can say that the GRM hasn't been what it used to be, anymore [laughs!].
Coming back to my education, simultaneously I studied musical analysis, above all based on the works – and this choice is interesting – of the Second Viennese School, whose music I analysed very scrupulously. I've also explored the music of Edgar Varèse, as I've always had great interest in him, and it has prevailed until today.
Nevertheless, you have never composed any piece in the style of the Second Viennese School.
Álvaro Salazar: No. One of my professors was, and is a composer, only two years older than me – Gilbert Amy. Sometimes, he also exercised the functions of the orchestra chief at the Maison de la Radio and I used to go to the rehearsals, where I learned a lot with him.
At the same time I perfected my knowledge and practice, which until then had been somewhat empirical, on orchestral conducting at the École Normal de Paris with Pierre Dervaux. Before, I had also studied in Vienna with Hans Swarowsky, but I was obliged to interrupt the studies for military reasons...
Since my stay in Paris I have never wanted anything else than music. When I came back, I went to the Conservatoire as professor to teach composition and analysis – I was one of the first to teach this discipline in Portugal.
Then, simultaneously with the National Conservatoire, I passed through various educational institutions – the Music College of Lisbon (ESML), the ESMAE – Superior School of Music and Performance Arts in Porto, and the Academy of Espinho. What did I teach in these schools? Apart from analysis, everything else that I knew. And some of my pupils have developed, or are developing, their careers. I am convinced that I've made my modest contribution for the progress of these schools.
Moving towards the question of your first works – it was your decision to destroy an important part of the works composed in the beginning...
Álvaro Salazar: Yes, I destroyed the works previous to the one that I consider the first work in my catalogue – Palimpsestos II for solo flute. Its score has been edited and released by the Atelier de Composição from Porto. The work was written in 1965 and then in 1974 I revised it. Its performance by Pedro Couto Soares from the Oficina Musical was recorder and released on CD [Fugit Irreparabile Tempus, Atelier de Composição, 2008].
Regarding the works, which I destroyed, it's important to explain, why I did it. The reason is very simple: in terms of technique and aesthetics, they were incipient compositional attempts; in other words, they were various decades late in relation to what was being done at that time in Europe, the United States and in other parts of the world. And I am talking about pieces that were publicly performed – so they're not only in my imagination. They were crossed out from the catalogue and destroyed, some of them even physically, others in the sense that nobody could ever see and perform them. However, this doesn't mean that I later didn't use some elements from these works – the series Palimpsestos, for example, is based or let's say "informed" here and there with remnants or "quotations" from the previous works and pages.
Considering "Palimpsestos" from 1965 as the opus one in your catalogue, what began to distinguish your musical language? How could you characterize it?
Álvaro Salazar: Everyone is subject to influences. We're not born from a spontaneous generation – but there are those who stay behind and the ones for whom staying behind would be the worst thing in the world. Now, am I so original that I can't recall the influence of anybody? I think, however, that if I don't establish my own genealogy it will be difficult for the analysts to get there.
Who are the composers that influenced me a lot? One of them is Varèse. And how? Mainly when it comes to the importance which he gave to instrumental registers – frequently almost impossible to execute. Let's take for example Varèses' wind instruments and their certain sounds, so difficult to achieve. Then... there's the Second Viennese School and above all Anton Webern.
In some previous interviews I already told this anecdote that "silence allows for the articulation of sounds". In other words, on the one hand, the sounds are in some way moulded with the pauses with different duration within a writing where they're plentiful. On the other hand, one can also say – and I said it many times – the contrary: it's not the silence that serves to carve the sound (this is the expression, which I use), but I would say that the sound serves to carve the silence. In this sense the silence is in itself already an autonomous work.
Obviously everybody knows that absolute silence doesn't exist, because there's always some ambient noise, etc. Now what has always attracted me... I worked on different aspects of using silence, always with the hope to one day create an interesting work made only of silence, or almost only silence and undetermined sounds, what the layman normally designates as "noise".
So let's say that the sounds carving the silence, the undetermined sounds and some aspects of the North-American school, above all Morton Feldman – influenced me. It's obvious that I “cooked” these ingredients in my own way and I suppose that if Webern heard a piece of mine, he wouldn't say: "this is my influence". Neither Varèse, nor Feldman would... because this palpable influence doesn't exist. I cooked everything in my own manner and I guess that – if there's anything that one can call "style" – in me this style exists, it is real. Each work of mine has something that in fact has already existed in the previous pieces – all of them have something in common.
For example in the context of the "1960s generation", to which I belong, from my point of view and making a judgment on the value of the composers integrating this generation – my music doesn't have anything to do with the music of Jorge Peixinho, my music doesn't have anything to do with the music of Emmanuel Nunes, my music doesn't have anything to do with the music of Constança Capdeville or Cândido Lima... Therefore I'm not an epigone. I'm also not a genius, but what I do has entirely to do with me.
Your compositional style is in fact very strong – it's indeed your own voice. It's a very important objective for many composers. In this context it's interesting to recall one of your past interviews conducted by António Pinho Vargas and published in the Arte Musical [4th Series, no. 2, Lisbon 1996]. In it, you made a reference to Virginia Woolf's words, asking herself whether she reached the moment in time when she is finally able to endure the reading of her own printed words without bushing, nor trembling and wanting to hide. Do you think that this time has already come for you too?
Álvaro Salazar: Nowadays I like my own music, but I suppose that in this sense I'm not original at all. I like listening to a work of mine, hearing it again when I've already forgotten it, as if it were by another author. What I want to say – it's important to create the minimal creative objectivity, which didn't exist at the moment of composing. And sometimes I get positive surprises. Recently, at the Crystal Palace in Porto at the exhibition Musonauts, Visions & Flaws [Musonautas, Visões & Avarias, September 7 – November 18, 2018, Municipal Gallery of Porto], I put on the headphones that were there, without being aware, whose music was being played. It seemed familiar to me... it was a work of mine for two pianos. And I enjoyed it! I thought that it had been well crafted, seductive and original.
To what extent composition and performance – that is conducting the music by composers from different periods and with various ensembles, including the one created by you, the Oficina Musical – are for you complementary activities?
Álvaro Salazar: As a matter of fact conducting either symphony orchestras, or chamber music ensembles where I could include contemporary works, gave me, in the first place, the great pleasure of leaving the too trampled paths. Secondly it gave me access to the works that I was interested in studying and analysing as composer – I wanted to know how the others did it. I think that this was my great school of composition. The discipline of analysis was indeed my great composition lesson – I learnt a lot with these works. I remember that once a musical critic – let's call him this way, he already passed away so I won't mention his name – he said that one could note in my conducting that I had analysed the works. And this could be bad...
…what was his argumentation?
Álvaro Salazar: He was one of those minor critics, supporters of spontaneity, which means not studying and moving forward with one's eyes closed. I've never regretted having analysed meticulously the works, which I conducted. I did it both in relation with the music by contemporary authors – Jorge Peixinho, Emmanuel Nunes, who are for me two major composers in any part of the world – as well as when it comes to the authors from other periods, for example. I conducted a lot the music of Fernando Lopes-Graça and some works by Luís de Freitas Branco. I've never conducted – and when I say that I've never conducted certain authors it's for having a critical approach towards their music... I've never conducted the music of Joly Braga Santos, for example. And why? In my perspective Joly Braga Santos has already been told in Luís de Freitas Branco.
These were your choices as performer...
Álvaro Salazar: Yes, nevertheless, they've changed in time. For example, today my opinion on Lopes-Graça is different. It's different from the one I had at the time when all my acquaintances and friends kept a great admiration towards him. I remember that when I heard the music by Graça for the first time I thought it was highly advanced, and today I think almost the opposite. And I feel very sorry because I was his great friend, as he was mine.
There's and interesting anecdote about Graça. Once he told Mário Vieira de Carvalho... Mário Vieira de Carvalho was one of the musicologists who praised Graça the most – he has invented a Graça who perhaps has never existed. He has invented a Graça with modernist features, which he has never had. Now, at that time the admiration that I had towards Graça was above all made of political affinities. Because Graça was an example of a citizen who opposed the fascist regime, and in this sense his life was extremely coherent. And so we all thought he was also the best in musical terms.
So one day Graça met Mário, whom he would treat as if he was his son... and Graça said: "What a disgrace, our beloved Álvaro". Álvaro was me and the disgrace had to do with me. Mário, taken by surprise, thought the worst... he thought that I had died ran over by somebody or that I had committed suicide, something of that kind. And he said: "But what happened?!?" And Graça said: "He fell into the clutches of Peixinho!" The expression is astonishing, mainly because the peixinhos don't have clutches, they have fins! ["peixinho" in Portuguese means "fish"] But I thought it funny. Graça has never forgiven me, he has never forgiven me having fallen into the clutches of a modernity, which he couldn't follow.
Graça's thought has a great and fundamental, auditory, but not analytic influence of Bela Bartók. I say "auditory" because there's an abyss between Bartók's and Graça's technique. Bartók was extremely coherent in terms of harmony, which is widely known. He rejected the Viennese School – this is certain. Nevertheless, within the premises of a – shall we say – folklorism, he was an advanced figure. It's no coincidence that Pierre Boulez distinguished him and included Bartók in the concerts that he conducted. He had a positive impression of him, however with all those reservations that Bartók put the Viennese School aside.
Continuing the theme of Portuguese music, in one of your previous interviews you used an interesting expression, which is the “eternal recommencement of Portuguese music” [Arte Musical, 4th Series, no. 2, Lisbon 1996] – making reference to an art failing to move forward, remaining or always coming back to the same place. Do you think that the same continues happening nowadays, or there's been and alternation? What is your present perspective on Portuguese music?
Álvaro Salazar: Portuguese music underwent an alternation. The progress, the decisive moment happened in fact with my generation, which I tend to call "the 1960s generation", as it was more or less in the 1960s when it started appearing publicly. Jorge Peixinho presents his first works around 1959; he was two years younger than me. Unfortunately he died, because he suffered from a weak heart and also he didn't defend himself. Who are the composers from the "1960s generation"? Peixinho (1940-95), me (1938), Cândido Lima (1939), Constança Capdeville (1937-92). Then there are some curious cases that I don't know how to classify, except by not classifying. One is Clotilde Rosa (1930- 2017), who has also left us recently. Clotilde Rosa was eight years older than me. But she isn't from the “1960s generation”, as her first work is from 1976...
She began composing only at the age of 45...
Álvaro Salazar: So she began composing in the following generation. Filipe Pires (1934-2015) is also another case. If he was alive he would be 84. As it happened to all the ones who studied at the Conservatoire in Lisbon, he started composing within a neoclassical approach – his first works don't have anything to do with the "1960s generation". Then, as it was in my case, he destroyed the first works... "minor pieces"... ultimately... Then Filipe Pires tried to keep pace with a major modernity, what he actually came to do already after the other colleagues from the “1960s generation”. Is Filipe Pires from the generation following the 1960s? No. Before the 1960s? Also no. His is rather in middle of things. In various interviews he used a phrase to which I always responded: "Luís Filipe, I'm not sure if you are aware of what you are saying, but what you are saying... only depreciates your value!" And his phrase was: "I've never moved forward, but always stayed behind others". Now saying "behind others" means: "I'm an imitator of others".
Coming back to the question of the importance of the generation, which you call “the 1960s generation”...
Álvaro Salazar: In the beginning the progress happened mainly with Peixinho – he was close, I wouldn't say intimately, but close to Pierre Boulez, Karlheinz Stockhausen, and he knew well the most advanced composers of the century: Luigi Nono, Luciano Berio... among many others. Peixinho was very inside of the things. Lopes-Graça didn't belong to this club, we already know this.
I can say that with Peixinho, and then right after with Emmanuel Nunes (1941-2012), the leap was taken so that a new generation was born, and we could call it a "1970-75s generation" with João Pedro Oliveira, whose music I've already conducted – the Requiem (1993-94) and also other works of his were performed by my ensemble, the Oficina Musical. Thereafter, now there are names whose works I even don't know. And I feel amazed. Some days ago I was told about a young and very talented composer... and I've never heard of him. I've never heard a single note by him. So, it's possible that the time has come when I'm already outdated... but not when it comes to aesthetics.
What is then your idea to divide Portuguese, 20th century music into generations?
Álvaro Salazar: The generations appear more or less every 15 years, but it wasn't me who invented it. It was a great Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset, who wrote a lot on generation and created a division of generations 15 in 15 years, with the possibility to move some years forward or back. According to him each period is marked with a central figure, a great genius for example, and there are other authors who revolve around him or her, forward or back in time. This method seems to me quite solid and philosophically seated. Many Spanish musicologists – such as Enrique Franco (not Francisco Franco, this one brings only bad memories) – adapted this method. Franco divided Spanish music in periods, at least the whole 20th century. Now I've also never retreated from the 20th century for the simple reason that I don't have the elements. In the more distant past Portugal has a generation, which is possible to determine as the polyphonists of the 17th century. Nevertheless then there are intervals and ruptures, which are not possible to fill as one would want to.
Now, hypothetically speaking, let's try to divide the 20th century Portuguese music into generations – despite my dislike towards giving names as sometimes they can lead to certain paradoxical situations. Additionally, I prefer to take into consideration not the year of birth, but rather the date of the beginning of musical production. This is a valid musical criterion, as someone can decide – theoretically, in practice it would be impossible – to live until the age of 105 and to start composing at the age of 100. Nothing forbids such an adventure.
We would then have the "generation of the First Republic in Portugal". We're in 1910 and so moving forward and backwards in time we can include Luís de Freitas Branco (1890-1955) and António Fragoso (1897-1918). The following generation... I can only name it in one way, the "New State generation". However it's unfair to include Graça (1906-94) in the "New State Generation", because he has always been opposing the regime. How should I call it then? "The Second Republic"? No. It wasn't a republic but a dictatorship. The Second Republic happens only after April 25th, 1974. This is the real Second Republic...
Well, let's say... the "First Republic Generation", around 1910. Then the following generation, which I obviously could call "the New State generation" or chastely "the Second Republic generation" (which was a dictatorship) – Armando José Fernandes (1906-83), Joly Braga Santos (1924-88), Filipe de Sousa (1927-2006), Maria de Lourdes Martins (1926-2009)… and Fernando Lopes-Graça (1906-94). His first works almost coincided with the foundation of the New State. Therefore he's an "anti-new-state" composer, but who's situated in the New State...
And then... the "1960s generation", which also gives us various problems. Such as the ones referred before – how to classify Filipe Pires (1934 – 2015)? It's confusing... Now it's evident that one needs to take into account that these concepts of generation are quite fluid. If one wanted to cut the 20th century with a knife as if cutting a cheese, one would need to make an aesthetic and not only factual interpretation...
And if one tried to divide 20th century Portuguese music this way, in two parts, what would the result be? What are the currents defining it?
Álvaro Salazar: Let's imagine... let's divide it only in two parts. The knife cut on the cheese is on the "1960s generation". And until then what is characteristic in Portuguese music? On the one hand: "romantic folklorism", that is grafted with the romanticism of the 19th century. Examples: Luís de Freitas Branco when he composes the Alentejo Suites (1919 and 1927), Joly Braga Santos... Romanticism with António Fragoso. Some say that "if António Fragoso hadn't died so early he would have become a splendid composers". I doubt that! In the time when he lived the music that he was writing was somewhat outdated, with impressionist hints. Neoclassicism and impressionism are the other currents that last until the "1960s generation". These are the ingredients, coinciding in the same composer or in various, characterizing Portuguese music. After the "1960s generation" until the end of the 20th century there's a modernity with some cases of "moving backwards", and some "Scarabs" in the middle of it all. Nevertheless there are also composers aware of the time they live in and willing to open new boarders.
And the future?
Álvaro Salazar: The future... how will the 21st century evolve? The 21st century, for now in these more advanced cases it's the natural continuation of the 20th century. We can't predict the future... will there still be a sudden victory of – apologize me for again using this expression – of the "Scarabs" creating light music sponsored by the Holy Church? For now we can't go much further beyond this, observing the composers that are on the wave ... on the top of the surfing board, and the ones that are drowning behind.
And what are the projects, which you have now in hand?
Álvaro Salazar: The time has passed and in March this year I had my 80th anniversary. I would like to still continue some more years, not many, I'm not asking for many but only a couple, to be able to complete certain things. For example, I have works that are incomplete or which need revision, but I don't see well enough to do this revision. I see... on the piano I have four magnifying glasses to read. Because I'm an eager reader not only of musical bibliography.
You also write poetry...
Álvaro Salazar: I published a weak book, very weak, and I regret it. But my impression is that any poet creates abominable things, when he or she begins writing poetry. Nevertheless I don't reject the poetry written after this book called Labirinto and published in 1961 – this one I reject completely. But it exists, let alone at the National Library in Lisbon and I can't go there to burn it. What should I do then?
Sometimes it's difficult to look backwards on one's own work with some distance, but on the other hand it's good to have this register to learn and keep the continuity of one's own creative process...
Álvaro Salazar: And I've kept it. There's also a work of mine released on CD: Estudos Incomunicantes (2007) [Atelier de Composição, Porto, 2012]. In the booklet accompanying this CD there's a poem in Portuguese and translated into English. In Portuguese it's a poetic work of mine that I accept. I'm not saying this because of vanity, but the piece even has a critical reference by an academic professor who has praised my poem. I shall meet her in order for her to see other texts of mine – there are various.
Well, but coming back to the question of the projects... I think that now I have only two things left: at my age, to try to get a little bit more older, what means to continue some more years. In composition – with the help of Pedro Junqueira Maia on the computer – to go on revising the things that I still want to revise and others that I still want to write. Apart from this there's the perspective of editing – also by Pedro – a book of interviews to me and another one with interviews that I made with other composers. And that's all.
To conclude our interview, could you reveal, which of the works from your catalogue is the most important in your path?
Álvaro Salazar: Absolutely! For me one of the most marking, well-achieved and preferred works in my whole catalogue is Glosa e Fanfarra sobre uma Fantasia de António Carreira (1975).
It was a work that took some time to write...
Álvaro Salazar: It took a lot of time and then the revision was made many years after. It was a work of long management, of constant amendments.
At the first public performance, at the festival in Bacău in Romania, only an excerpt of Glosa e Fanfarra... was presented. Then it was performed two times in full in Spain by José Ramón Encinar. And later, Lisbon finally got to know me at the Gulbenkian Foundation, where the work was also performed two times under the baton of Lawrence Foster (March 2003).
Now for a small divertissement in the middle of our conversation – Foster conducted very well the two concerts with Glosa e Fanfarra.... I was satisfied with the execution. After the concert I went to greet Foster who is an excellent conductor, but not properly in love with contemporary music. So in the end, he was animated and asked me: "Did you like it?" And I said: "It was a very good performance, yes sir". And he said: "It's not my style, but I made an effort to do it well". And I confirmed again: "It was splendid, yes sir". And then I thought that I should make him a joke, so I said: "But of course, not everyday does one have the chance to conduct a masterpiece!" And he remained like this, confused... until today he doesn't know, and nor do I, if I was serious or not...
And why is this work so important to you?
Álvaro Salazar: It's important because it was a kind of laboratory, where I made a lot of experiences. I made so much experience... that there's a part of the work from the title – Glosa e Fanfarra... – the Fanfarra is not in the score! The copy was made by Musicoteca in Lisbon. The editor skipped some measures, not many – five or six repetitive measures – but they constitute the Fanfarra! And it's not there in the score. The work has never been performed with the Fanfarra! So I have already told Pedro Junqueira Maia: "Let's include one page in the score". It should be enough for the Fanfarra...
Álvaro Salazar, October 2018
© MIC.PT