Guajira on the river / Adrián Aguiar; Dayron Ortiz

There will be a green silence

all made of stripped guitars

The guitar is a well

with wind instead of water.

Gerardo Diego

This story is told by two guitars. A game of chords and melodies. Steel and nylon meet to take us to the countryside. Field that blooms with various spirits: the tumbao dialogues with jazz and the blues. The ornaments, the oncenas and the passing notes embrace us and lead us to love. Tenderness can be smelled in this duet. The twelve strings vibrate in the trees and make the birds listen to this music. The work, which like a snail has a familiar shape, that old circular form of the straight ahead jazz (head-solo-head), dissolves at the end through a tremendous naturalism that simulates drops, stones, blinks, winks, tears and other phenomena of the world. The work pleases us. It is one of those listenings that caresses us.

Definitely this little six-minute gem is a generator of an organic aesthetic pleasure, one of those so needed in these days of heat, destruction and chaos. It is an opus that falls fresh as if we found an oasis in the middle of the desert, as if an old person found love again. And yes, at the same time that it is refreshing, it is exotic in the context of national jazz, it is a work for two guitars in the old style of Di Meola and MacLaughlin, or Joe Pass and John Pisano. The latter is a gift and is appreciated as a project.

In a quiet and beautiful country house (perhaps at sunset), like a nostalgic landscape by Esteban Chartrand, takes place this single (second) by guitarist Adrián Aguiar, a key young man in the popular guitar scene. Sitting on an armchair, guitarist Dayron Ortiz opens the solo section with his Ibanez, showing us once again his wisdom and taste in the instrument. After the guest's master class, Adrian takes on a solo that exudes intuition, technique and love, closing with a few octaves in the old Montgomery style (always appreciated). Dayron continues the game; the blues and the gods of the Afro-American countryside emerge through him. In Adrian's response, the capacity for dialogue, the exact communication with his musical brother, is noticeable. Adrian does not renounce to his influences and diverse worlds -such as the finesse and sharpness of the gypsy jazz- and yet responds exquisitely to the Play bluseado-jazzístico of Dayron.

Five to eight. The theme returns and it is time perhaps to accompany this music with a tea with honey, with a love letter or perhaps with a nap. The guitarists delight again in the counterpoint. They give us little solos, a brief moment of questions and answers, of slurred phrases and accented notes. Seconds later, the dreamlike finale of interplay with its jumping harmonies of whole tones and seconds takes us to the wide, vast dream... To the dream of the young love.

Young Love lies dreaming;

But who knows his dream?

A perfect sun

Over the top of the forest,

Or a perfect moon

Over the steep stream;

Or a perfect silence,

A song about beloved lips.

Dante Gabriel Rosetti