Canción

by James Manheim Milos, whose real name is Milos Karadaglic, comes from Montenegro and has the good looks to sustain a booklet comprising exclusively pictures of himself (there is a track list, but no text). Milos studied in London and has named Julian Bream as an influence. He lives up to that name-drop with crisp, elegant playing. The single-name titles of his albums, Mediterráneo and now Canción, might put you off, but these are superior examples of their type. Consider the way Milos puts together his Latin-flavored program here: it deepens as it goes along, and it never devolves into mere exercise or sentimental manipulation. His choice of arrangements is as strong as his playing itself. Milos opens with a quartet of popular song arrangements by one of the great South American guitarists, Sergio Assad. Then he offers a unique version of Astor Piazzolla's Libertango that required work from no fewer than three arrangers. It's not exactly a version for guitar and orchestra but rather a guitar piece embellished with hints of the original bandoneón part (here played on an accordion) and with bits of orchestral texture, breezes of the Buenos Aires night, as it were. Luigi Boccherini's Fandango, arranged by Juan Carlos Cuelto, marks another sharp turn, and as for the end, it's right there in the track list, but you have to hear it to know how delightfully unexpected it is in this context. Deutsche Grammophon's sound is exemplary in its treatment of the guitar. Sure, you can buy this album because Milos qualifies as some kind of a sex symbol, but what you get is a superb recital of light Latin music.