| Cante:
El Charico, Diego Clavel, Miguel Poveda, La Cañeta,
Fosforito
Dance: Pepe Torres y su grupo con Farina,
Moi de Morón y El Gally, cante, y Paco Iglesias y Rafael
Cabeza, guitarra. Pepa Montes con Ricardo Miño y su
grupo.
Guitar: Emilio Maya, Antonio Carrión,
Chicuelo, Antonio Soto
Text & photos: Estela Zatania
Every time a group of flamenco singers, guitarists
and dancers are brought together in a given place to offer
a cante festival, just as happens with any dish, the ingredients
exist independently from one another at the same time they
blend together, and the end result reaches the senses as an
inseparable whole. The thirty-seventh Reunión de Cante
Jondo de La Puebla de Cazalla celebrated the night of Saturday
July 9th has been consumed and digested, and over virtual
coffee and brandy we can now reflect on the outcome.
 |
Salmonete de
Jerez |
Although we’ve mentioned it many times, it’s
worth commenting once again on the admirable goal of the organizers
to present a serious festival that shuns all cheapness, has
a perfect infrastructure and offers an incomparable venue.
Those who criticize the festival movement, even advocating
its disappearance, claiming that cante festivals are no longer
relevant, were not present to tread upon the fresh rosemary
strewn upon the ground, nor to relish young artists’
desire to shine, nor to feel goose-bumps when veteran artists
fought to deliver their artistic messages with all the urgency
of the first day.
The preceding night we’d attended the presentation
of the festival which, mercifully, was more singing than talking
with the Jerez cantaor Joaquín Jiménez Domínguez
“Salmonete” who gave a serious and intense recital
which opened our appetite for what was to come the following
day.
Master of ceremonies Juan Ortiz Ordóñez opened
the night with praiseful words for José Menese, one
of the founders of the festival. For medical reasons he was
unable to be present for the first time in the thirty-six
years since the festival began.
As is the tradition, the evening got underway with a guitar
solo, this year, by Antonio Carrión who also invoked
Menese as well as another classic currently hospitalized:
“This siguiriya is dedicated to maestro José
Menese, and that other great maestro, Antonio Núñez
“El Chocolate’ “. At that precise moment
the Andalusian countryside suddenly sent a cool breeze which
seemed to second those words, and Carrión’s guitar
rang out with a bit more feeling that on other occasions,
reminding us that an era is coming to an end.
The fragility of flamenco’s
raw material, and the limited pool of young talent
 |
El niño
Charico |
This year’s La Puebla festival was not the typical
menu of the day with the customary ingredients. Jerez was
present only in the person of a young man from Granada who
is causing a stir among aficionados. Victor Blaya “El
Niño Charico”, 26 years old, has a powerful voice
reminiscent of Terremoto senior, and it’s the cante
of Jerez he most admires. He takes inspiration from the most
important figures of Santiago and San Miguel, and with the
backup of his regular guitarist, Emilio Maya, he managed to
deliver bulería por soleá, siguiriya and cabales,
taranta and cartagenera and fandangos, without revealing his
surprising capability. Perhaps it’s true that irregular
output is the mark of genius.
 |
Diego Clavel
with Antonio Carrión |
Another star singer of La Puebla, with a more discreet career
but equally admirable knowledge and domain, is Diego Clavel.
He arrived on stage with the help of crutches and once again
it was impossible to avoid thinking of the fragility of flamenco’s
raw material, and the limited pool of young talent. “A
public tribute to my friend and colleague, José Menese”
and he delved into cantiñas with an old-style feel,
cantes of Pastora and Las Mirris. Clavel is a great student
of flamenco and even now, about to turn sixty, he is deeply
involved in the investigation and interpretation of the most
arcane cantes in danger of extinction. With his ability to
internalize emotion, only letting the power of his voice escape
at key moments, he began with malagueñas, some little-known
styles he identified as those of La Chilanga and Joaquín
el Tabaco, ending with rhythmic ‘abandolao’ cante.
“We’re going to do a little soleá de Alcalá”,
and with the expert playing of Antonio Carrión, the
cante unfolded, followed by siguiriyas ending with Clavel’s
signature ‘Manuel Molina’ ending to close out
the set.
The airs of a star, and
the decision to triumph on his own terms
 |
Miguel Poveda
with Chicuelo |
Next came the most exotic, risky and controversial ingredient
of the program. Just two years ago, at this very festival,
Miguel Poveda was seated in the front row as spectator, and
on commenting upon his presence with friends, I discovered
that the singer from Badalona was unknown in these parts.
Tonight he had come with the airs of a star, and clearly had
decided to triumph on his own terms. Take careful note of
where we are: La Puebla de Cazalla’s cante festival,
created by José Menese and Francisco Moreno Galván,
champions of a nearly obsessive crusade to promote the most
classic and traditional sort of cante, while rejecting the
so-called “cante bonito” that had been so well-marketed
by Niño de Marchena and followers, and which had dominated
for decades. For this reason it was not only poor judgment,
but baffling, that Poveda had decided to open with a long
milonga, that saccharine-sweet form that typifies the “cante
bonito” sound. The cool country air of the Andalusian
countryside filled with the delicate arabesques of “Rosa
Cautiva” by León, Quiroga and Quintera, popularized
by Juan Valderrama, and we were transported to the year nineteen-fifty.
Even taking into account that Pepe Marchena continues to be
revered in these small towns of Seville province – Carmona,
Estepa, Morón, El Arahal, Pruna, Coronil, Marchena
of course – it was an odd calling card which provoked
a certain amount of embarrassment in a portion of the audience,
although, the truth be told, a couple of elderly people cheered
the Catalonian singer effusively.
“How about a little soleá and siguiriya!”
shouted a voice, but Poveda opted for cantiñas, once
again with a Marchena sound, something he frankly does well.
Had it not been for the dynamic and very flamenco guitar-playing
of Juan Gómez “Chicuelo”, it was just like
riding in a time-machine. “What a pretty voice!”
shouted an older lady in the back. Malagueña ending
with rondeña, and in an attempt to appease the restless
crowd, martinete and siguiriya, but it was slick and painless.
His bulerías could have righted all wrongs –
Poveda knows how to sing traditional cante without concessions.
But he chose instead to serve up a ‘cuplé’
in minor key, passing off a perfectly polished and utterly
insubstantial product that just didn’t stick to the
ribs.
Suspended in a flamenco dialogue
of compás...who could dare glance away for a second...
 |
Pepe Torres |
Next on the menu was dance, from the neighboring town of
Morón de la Frontera. Pepe Torres, from the family
of Diego del Gastor, a member of Son de la Frontera, came
with his group displaying a fine, elegantly masculine line,
with no need for long hair or extravagant costumes. Discreet
echoes of the Farruco school, that never-ending source, credible,
well-executed flashes and lots of compás, earning a
standing ovation to end the first half.
Guitarist Antonio Soto opened the second part with a guitar
solo and then suddenly the stage was flooded with the extravagant
personality of the most authentic and experienced ‘festera’
of the current scene: María Teresa Sánchez Campos,
“La Cañeta de Málaga”. She was all
aflower in a bright red and white costume and flaming red
hair, working the audience with all the expertise you’d
expect from someone with over a half-century of performing
experience. “I’m going to sing the tangos of my
mother La Pirula”, but there was more Cañeta
that Pirula, and it was all fresh, alive and very flamenco.
A member of her group danced alegrías giving Cañeta
a rest, and she came back strong for bulerías. She’d
had enough of the mike and worked from the edge of the stage
with frequent flashes of dance, art in every detail, and we
were all suspended in the flamenco dialogue of compás
with Soto’s prodigious thumb: who could dare glance
away for a second.
The maestro didn’t sing
– he held mass via the cantes that have marked his career
 |
La Cañeta
de Málaga |
Few individuals could have filled the vacuum left by José
Menese’s absence in La Puebla. The person who came to
do it, pulled it off barely managing to sing. That gives you
an idea of the dimension of Antonio Fernández Díaz
“Fosforito” who is currently a candidate for the
Llave de Oro del Cante, a seldom-awarded distinction reserved
for true maestros. Rushing off from the Congreso de Guitarra
in Córdoba to come to La Puebla at the mayor’s
request, the maestro didn’t sing, he held mass via the
cantes that have marked his career: soleá apolá,
cantiñas, taranto and petenera. Nowadays few singers
of a certain age can avoid a Fosforito sound precisely in
those forms, because in the sixties and seventies, just as
Antonio Mairena guided us through the labyrinth of soleá,
siguiriya and tonás, this man was the ultimate source
for nearly everything else. With his knowledge, his table
for knocking out the compás, his unfailing dignity,
a sense of humor and an overwhelming need to convey his cante,
he won over an audience that wasn’t really his. The
vocal chords no longer respond, but those of us who remember
the singer’s glorious heyday when he was king of the
festivals were able to fill in the notes he was unable to
reproduce. The audience’s respect and affection hung
heavy in the air, and the last taranto verse provoked tears
throughout the audience: “I can’t go on, my strength
is flagging, not even this taranto, can I finish, and it makes
me want to cry”. He ended with bulerías, and
the compás was all he needed to recall a classic repertoire
that continues to play in the collective consciousness of
all flamenco-lovers with a voice that is young and strong.
El maestro Fosforito with Antonio Soto
 |
Pepa Montes |
The festival could, and should have ended then and there,
but there was still more dance, with Pepa Montes, and the
guitar of her husband Ricardo Miño. They appeared with
a discreet group for a performance that added little to the
festival. On this night of good intentions and occasionally
disappointing results, Montes had the most flimsy pretext
with a dance that was not classic, but merely old-fashioned
and passé, based on a hackneyed tablao-style routine
with lots of footwork. Her veteran singer Paco Taranto seemed
bored with his own singing, and the most attractive element
was the red velvet dress the dancer wore.
In La Puebla de Cazalla there’s always a fiesta finale.
Carrión sang, Miño danced and each artist did
a small bit except Clavel who finally wrapped up the festival
with tonás, single-handedly, at 5 A.M.
Text & photos: Estela
Zatania
More information:
XXXV
Reunión de Cante Jondo - 2003
XXXVI
Reunión de Cante Jondo - 2004
Interview
with José Menese
| |
|
Diego Clavel
'Por los rincones de Huelva'
|
|
|
|
map 
shopping cart 
help 
