REVIEW: A Vigorous Ride

Paul Bodine
Classical Music Daily

November 2o, 2025

However uncertain its pronunciation, Raphaël Feuillâtre’s name (fuh-YAH-truh) is one you should know. Born in Djibouti and raised in small Cholet, France, by immigrant parents, Feuillâtre began winning guitar competitions at age eighteen, graduated from the elite Paris Conservatoire, released his first recording at twenty-three, three years later signed a contract with Deutsche Grammophon (DG), classical music’s most prestigious label, and in 2023 became the second-most listened-to classical artist on Apple Classical. His virtuosic Latin-themed recital at the The Conrad Sunday, courtesy of La Jolla Music Society, confirmed his rocketing career is no fluke or marketing ploy.

Before the legendary Andrés Segovia (died 1987), classical guitar was an instrumental backwater. Viewed as a parlor or folk instrument of mostly regional interest, its repertoire was dated (few Romantic or contemporary composers wrote for it), its pedagogy and technique were barely standardized, and few guitarists toured. Because of giants like Segovia, today the classical guitar has conservatory training and global competitions, a vast repertoire of transcriptions and commissions, and touring ‘star’ careers such as Julian Bream, John Williams and very probably Raphaël Feuillâtre.

Not yet thirty, Feuillâtre is both the beneficiary of and a young standard-bearer for classical guitar’s dramatic resurrection. His Latin-heavy Baker-Baum recital showcased the rich tradition of Spanish and Latin American guitar in an amplified performance (‘to ensure proper sound balance’ according to La Jolla Music Society). Feuillâtre’s carefully crafted and interlinked program balanced the crowd-pleasingly well known (Albéniz’s Asturias; Tárrega’s Recuerdos de la Alhambra) with the relatively obscure (Antonio Lauro’s Ana Florencia; Leo Brouwer’s La huida de los amantes por el valle de los ecos [The lovers’ escape through the valley of echoes]; Sérgio Assad’s Cateretê [from Suite Brasileira No 4] and Scarlatti‘s Presto from Sonata in D major). All hit their mark.

The first half comprised seven works by four foundational masters of Spanish guitar (Scarlatti was Italian but composed the vast majority of his sonatas in Spain), none written after 1908. It was both a curated overview of classical guitar’s evolution in its birthplace, and a platform for displaying Feuillâtre’s formidable talents: rhythmic control, tasteful vibrato, delicacy of touch, precise articulation/fingering, two-voiced clarity and expressive balance (loud-soft, fast-slow). Feuillâtre’s complete mastery of guitar technique – from cross-string arpeggios, rapid tremolo, note-bending, ‘left-hand solos’ and sustained harmonics to rasgueado(flamenco-style strumming), nail sforzando, thumb (pulgar) techniques and percussive slaps – was obvious from start to finish but especially in Llobet Solés’ Variations on a Theme by Sor, which deliberately spotlights at least five playing techniques.

But another first-half piece by Llobet Solés, the moving, richly varied El Testament d’Amelia, showed off a less tangible but more defining skill of Feuillâtre’s: his ability to inhabit and communicate the character of each piece. In El Testament‘s three sections, Feuillâtre uncannily captured the voice of the young princess who self-sacrificially drinks the poison her stepmother gives her. The Spanish half of the program also highlighted Feuillâtre’s musicological confidence: rather than play the transcriptions composed by giants like Segovia, Llobet Solés or Tárrega of Albéniz‘s Asturias and Capricho Catalan (originally for piano), Feuillâtre cheekily played his own. No ‘anxiety of influence’ here.

Feuillâtre’s more adventurous second half shifted to the Americas and firmly into the twentieth century with eight pieces by a Paraguayan, a Venezuelan, a Cuban, an Argentine, and two Brazilians. He presented the first four pieces (by Agustín Barrios, Antonio Lauro, Leo Brouwer and Sérgio Assad) as a single suite of Latin American classical guitar with a populist (even ‘pop’) inspiration. Assad’s Caterete, in particular, had an agreeable MOR hook that made the suite click. The two Villa-Lobos works that followed were, as you’d expect, full of rhythmic life and soul, and Feuillâtre played them with an unbuttoned, rocking drive. As the recital unfolded, Feuillâtre more frequently deployed a visual weapon: his facial expressions, physical flourishes, and gestures of hand, arm, leg and head became additional tools to put the music across, though his assured playing seldom needed external help.

Like Assad’s Caterete, Piazzolla‘s Invierno porteno possesses an irresistible hook, and Feuillâtre gave it a vigorous ride.

With shouted bravi, hoots, whistles and cascading applause, the Conrad audience embraced Feuillâtre like the six-string ‘rock star’ he may well be. His encore was a tour de force take on fellow Frenchman Roland Dyens‘ incendiary ‘Fuoco’ (Libra Sonatine).