Flamenco Flair in Albéniz's Asturias (Leyenda)
The Best Moments

I start the piece that publishers later called Asturias (Leyenda) with a fast, driving pulse in G minor where the pianist's hands have to alternate rapidly around a single repeated note, as if trying to convince a heavy wooden piano that it is actually a plucked flamenco guitar. This opening builds up to loud, percussive chords that imitate the sound of a guitarist strumming furiously across all the strings at once.

After all that frantic energy, I slow things down in the middle section to a speech-like melody that sounds like a solitary singer pouring his heart out on a quiet southern evening. It gives the poor player's fingers a much-needed rest, like stepping out of a busy street into a cool, shaded courtyard for a few minutes.

Before long, I bring that restless opening rhythm rushing right back in, making the hands leap across the keyboard one more time so nobody falls asleep in the back row. Then, just when you expect a grand, crashing finale, I wrap the whole thing up with a quiet, gentle coda that slips away almost on tiptoe.