Liebert's Virtuosity

Nestled between Otis Redding and Outkast on my iPod, one can find Ottmar Liebert.  I have a wide variety of musical interests, but frankly, before last evening, Mr. Liebert didn’t get much play;  and when he did, there were candles lit and I had other things on my mind.   After seeing him with his guitar in the quartet of outstanding musicians last night at the Colonial Theatre, Ottmar will find himself in more than just the late-night rotation.

It was a damn fine day.  I left work early, had a gin and tonic with lunch, enjoyed a deep tissue massage, and had an as-always-awesome meal at Marly’s.  I could get used to days like that.  Mr. Liebert topped the day off and played with perfection.  He made the guitar sing and dance and speak in a way that gave me an entirely new understanding of the flamenco style. It was as if he were dancing himself.

As he tapped his bare feet to the beat, his hands flew-- merging baselines, and countertempos, and gracenotes, and 32^nd notes, and percussional harmonies into a confluency of auditory and visual art.  Golpe, Picado, Rasqueado, Alzapua, Tremolo.  Even the language of Flamenco is beautiful.  It was virtuosity.  It was fluidity.  It was joy.