In the daily "El Correo" (Madrid) on 9- 23-1833 # 814 on page 2
In spite of how little our French neighbors generally are in lavishing praise on our compatriots, we believed that by an exception due to some chance circumstance they had praised the merit of Trinitario Huerta in an extreme and incredible way. So it is, that despite the respect that the Fetis and the Castil-Blaze deserve in us, we judge that calling him the Paganini of the guitar, the guitar man, and even the god of this instrument, came rather from the singular affection that they professed to Huerta that of his admirable skill.
But after the four concerts that he has given in this town in the hall of the Cafe Suizo, which have been attended by the most intelligent and chosen part of the town, they have all agreed to say that the fame he has had preceded Huerta was undoubtedly inferior to the surprising mastery with which he masters an instrument, as thankless and dull as it is stingy in its resources, in any hands other than those of this inimitable artist. And wouldn't we be excessively unfair if we denied him the tribute of praise that in the most populous and cultured foreign cities of both hemispheres has been granted to him with so much enthusiasm, without envy having yet disputed any of the applause won by his genius and application?
In the most beautiful pieces of Rossini, which he has played with exquisite taste and delicacy, in the whims that his creative fantasy has suggested to him and in the national airs, which with equal grace and brilliance as novelty and intelligence made his docile guitar resonate, we have admired at the same time the prodigious flexibility of his fingers, the magical harmony of the strings struck by them, and the enchanting expression of all sounds, always clear, distinct and melodious, which, gently introduced into the ear, flattered the heart. He felt especially moved by the sweet memories of the national sonatas that had so often enraged him with pleasure, and that more than ever produced in him a delicious vibration that filled his breath, and caused the entire competition to burst into loud and unanimous applause.
Who would have thought, having already seen the prodigies of Sor and Aguado, that the guitar still hid within it a new treasure, reserved for the talent of Mr. Huerta, and that this young man could be appreciated on a path not trodden until now, he had to cross with happy daring the goal set by his two able predecessors? Not only can it be said that naturally has inspired the art of varying tones in a very rich and inexhaustible way but also that of producing, with seemingly so limited means, clean, harmonious and robust sounds; forcing a poor instrument played by others, and incapable of a safe and pleasant effect, to penetrate with its sweetness into the very depths of the soul, as a faithful interpreter of the most harmonically complicated music. By saying that the mind cannot imagine anything that surpasses or that even equals Huerta in the perfection with which he plays the guitar, we persuade ourselves that we will be somewhat better understood, because we cannot explain the wonderful speed with which they run through the strings his divine fingers, nor the most wonderful faculty of making them sigh now with a full, sonorous and vigorous voice, now with a tender, languid and pathetic voice, now with all these accents artificially combined.
We have come to know with a certain kind of pride that he is a member of almost all the musical academies of the towns he has visited, that he is a member of the philharmonic societies of London and Paris, of the athenaeum of sciences and arts of the latter. capital and its famous conservatory, in which the guitar class was created for Huerta. Such are among countless others the most flattering and honorable awards that he has achieved and that redound to his glory in Spain, the cradle of enlightened talents of all kinds, which unfortunately we are rarely the first to recognize.