By Penelope V. Flores

SAN FRANCISCO -- When I heard that Maestro Michael Dadap and guitar virtuoso Florante Aguilar were performing as a duo for the first time in a concert dinner format, I wasted no time in purchasing a ticket. Apparently, I was not alone, judging by the sheer power of the group in attendance - a virtual who's who of the Bay Area Filipino Community.

The concert, billed as a fundraiser for the Harana documentary film directed by Benito Bautista, produced by Fides Enriquez and Florante Aguilar, opened with an 8-minute trailer following Florante across the countryside riding in overcrowded jeepneys and walking with village folks in search of authentic practitioners, interviewing leathery-faced haranistas— a slowly vanishing breed in the Philippines.
When asked to explain the concert's repertoire, Florante replied:

“We immediately thought it should be an All-Pilipino selection based on the music we both have been championing through our recordings, the harana and kundiman. Our individual approach is actually very different from each other, with Michael leaning towards more traditional harmony while I take more liberty in harmony and form. We thought this combination offers a richer musical experience.”

Dadap and Aguilar opened with their arrangement of Santiago Suarez’ benchmark harana piece Dungawin Mo Hirang, played in a lyrical and sustained tone that brought back pre-adolescent memories. Aguilar’s arrangement of Silos’ Dahil sa Isang Bulaklak went for full harmonious tones characterized by rising and descending slurs. Florante’s touches are virtual breaths, his tone color, silences.

Constancio de Guzman’s Maala-ala Mo Kaya, arranged by Dadap, was the audience favorite. I admired Michael’s finger slides with great delicacy. He perfected that rare portato approach dragging the notes that end with a sigh.

Florante rendered his Philippine Folksong Suite with evocative emotions. Atin Cu Pung Singsing never ceased to please.  Ili Ili exhibited pleasing appoggiaturas, while his modernistic arrangement of Manang Biday conveyed happy dissonances.

Balud, an evocation of neap and riptides, showed Dadap’s love for the Leyte seascape while his arrangement of Resurreccion Bunyi‘s Huling Awit reminded me of patriotic songs of the era.  Dadap explains that while Dandansoy may sound like a sad farewell in slow rhythm, given the Visayan’s highly nuanced folk tradition is actually a happy song.  In contrast, the apparently happy sounding Pobreng Alindahao is in reality a sad song as depicted in the “Aruy, aruy” verse.

Bayani Mendoza de Leon's Kapilas Na Giting for solo guitar, played with panache by Florante, attests to the fact that Pilipino guitar music goes beyond harana as it takes the listener slightly out of their comfort zone.
Dadap’s Huling Pagsamo was played with full texture with little pulls at spots. Bayan Ko, evolved into a patriotic song popularized by demonstrators during the People Power Revolution of 1986, afforded Florante the opportunity to show off his tremolo and evocative virtuosity.

In Dadap’s Folkloric Suite for two guitars, Aguilar gave us the light touch of Lulay. Dadap enriched the 2nd movement Kundiman (from the theme of Joselinang Baliwag) with the ebb and flow of rubato, unbeholden to the rhythm of the metronome. The Kuratsa, a wedding dance typically played by a rondalla, is given a lively rendition.

The guitarists’ hands were dancing in Dadap’s arrangement of Manuel Velez’ Sa Kabukiran.  The audience went wild with the question/answer mode of the cadenza - a pasikat piece between the master teacher (Dadap was Florante’s teacher in New York, circa 1980’s) against the student virtuoso. I would have liked to hear a false note here and there if only to show their rootedness and for many beginners, to play like them. They opted instead for the bright glissandos, lilting cantabiles and affretandos, beyond the reach of others.

 In between pieces, lively discussions ensue with Dadap explaining the kundiman is played in 3/4 time, always starting in the minor mode (sad) transposing to its parallel major (happier) mode midway through, while the harana is played in the habanera style, also called danza, in 2/4 or 4/4 time.

Florante added that while any love song can be sung in a harana, a classic harana song is defined by a characteristic habanera rhythm a lot slower than the Spanish version and Tagalog lyrics that are metaphorical and poetic particular to the endeavor itself. Titles such as Natutulog Ka Na Ba Sinta, Kay Lungkot Nitong Hatinggabi, Sa Gitna Ng Dilim and Harana Ng Puso places the haranista right in the act of serenading.

Kundiman according to Dadap came from the conflation of three words: Kung Hindi Man (meaning “If at all possible”, like making a plea) and was also often sung during the serenade.

For me, a harana engages emotion. At some point, the opportunity was missed. Maybe it was the length of the program, but Danny Harana was brought in to sing two songs – Suarez’ Kay Lungkot Nitong Hatinggabi, played with artistic artifice, and O Ilaw in his representative syrup-and-molasses singing style.
Aguilar and Dadap created a remarkable, sensitive harana concert. Intramuros Restaurateur and Chef Barry Picazo designed the menu and the aesthetically pleasing venue. Chef Dodie Torres served a perfect lengua dish to die for.

Congratulations to Fides Enriquez and crew for producing the documentary film and the concert. Watch for the next series of Harana concerts. It is a must for young people who need to know about this traditional Filipino music and a retreat for older folks who reminisce about this disappearing brand. A need to understand who we are, why we are here, and how we cope has value in the harana’s power and significance.

Dr. Penélope V. Flores is a tenured professor at the College of Education, San Francisco State University and the author of several books.  She is also a classically trained pianist. Lately, she took courses in classical guitar at SFSU’s College of Music. She continues to take private lessons and is totally enamored of the persuasive beauty of guitar music.