I imagine a sunrise in Zegama. Idyllic. With a burning sun, eager to live, that dyes the Aizkorri mountain range with light. The dawn always amazes, no matter where you observe it. As in Naples, with that Tyrrhenian Sea converted into a bed. No wonder it inspires artists so much. Painters, writers… or musicians.
The latter is the case of a Zegarrama and a Neapolitan. Both transferred their impressions on a pentagram when contemplating the sun in their hometowns. With a very different result. The first, Juan Tellería, wrote the melody of an a priori unknown Amanecer en Zegama; while the second, Alfredo Mazzucchi, did the same with O sole mio. Now, the composition that the Gipuzkoan created in 1935 without lyrics and without political will became a year later into the far from innocent Cara al sol.
To make a living, he taught classes, played the piano in bars, theaters and cinemas, and composed whatever he was asked to do, whether it was tangos, boleros or the famous pasodoble Venta de Vargas (which Lola Flores popularized even more ten years after his death). .
On his return to Madrid he met Primo de Rivera, who was looking for music for his anthem. That was his big mistake. Not only was he never paid royalties (as happened to Alfredo Mazzucchi with O solo mio) but he was marked for life… and for death.
In the Civil War he was imprisoned and escaped being shot thanks to a judge who believed that music was a universal language without ideologies. Tellería continued composing for the republic and then for the dictatorship, which asked him for more hymns and also to give up the rights to Cara al sol, which he registered before the war. He said no. Tellería was not liked by anyone. And his most relevant work, composed of symphonic poems and zarzuelas, remains forgotten or unpublished. This ended up being, without a doubt, his greatest condemnation.
