Son de la Frontera
Saturday, November 11th, 2006. 10:00pm. Bimhuis. Amsterdam.

Complete Program

Text: Estela Zatania

Cuban tres: Raúl Rodríguez. Guitar: Paco de Amparo. Cante: Moi de Morón. Dance and palmas: Pepe Torres. Palmas and dance: Manolo Flores.

The First Dutch Biennial of Flamenco flows right along, and with everything sold out for the extense program at a range of venues, the newborn event seems to be in excellent health. In addition to the main shows distributed between the two metropolitan centers of Amsterdam and Utrecht, there are film projections, conferences, exhibits and intensive courses. On Saturday alone, Granada guitarist Miguel Ángel Cortés gave a recital at one theater, while dancer Rafael de Carmen was with his group at another, Cañizares presented his Flamenco Trío, two episodes of the series El Ángel were shown and Faustino Núñez offered his conference “Comprende el Flamenco”, all this in addition to the regularly scheduled courses in guitar, dance and yes, also cante. Very impressive.

But the main event of the day was the appearance of the Morón group Son de la Frontera at the café cantante Bimhuis. Slipping into the recording market through the back door when no one was looking, this spectacular group has the unusual good fortune of being enjoyed by absolutely everyone. It’s not flamenco rock, nor a dubious mix of musicians who met for the first time the day of the recording, nor do the members have any desire to alter the order of things. It’s a bunch of young men who have known each other since early adolescence and share an overwhelming love of flamenco, particularly that produced in Morón de la Frontera. “Love is all you need” said the Beatles, another group of old friends with a clear common vision.

Son de la Frontera (photo: Anniemiek Rooymans)

Their own devotion serves to update the auditive memories they’ve been carrying around since childhood.

The geographical axis of Morón and Utrera, about 35 kilometers apart, has its own special brand of flamenco based on the cante of Utrera and the guitar-playing of Morón, with a special weakness for bulerías. A guitarist who died over thirty years ago, Diego del Gastor, was one of the central figures of that ambience. In an era when the fashion of fandangos and “cante bonito” was losing steam, the man from Gastor settled into his world and his town of Morón where everything came down to essentials, and he frolicked in the same forms that had served him well all along. When you hear Son de la Frontera, the first thing you notice is the absence of contemporary harmony, that aroma of jazz that filters through nearly all of today’s flamenco. And it’s a pleasant sensation, because far from being a nostalgic copy of that which was, and no longer is, these musicians make the most of their authentic devotion to the Morón sound, and that self-same devotion serves to update the auditive memories they’ve been carrying around since childhood.

The fascinating sound of the Cuban tres played by Raúl Rodríguez, throws you off just enough to open your mind and let in the music without intellectual obstacles. If the flute or the violin so many groups have incorporated over the last couple of decades continue to dine at the flamenco table as guests, and never as members of the family, Raúl’s tres sits at the head of the table and presides over the banquet. Paco de Amparo’s guitar is accomplice to the pleasantly metallic sound in a series of instrumental numbers where bulerías is king, particularly in the major and minor keys people in Morón are so fond of and which are so little cultivated elsewhere. Straight-ahead compás from the heartland of Morón is the machine that makes it all click through bulerías, alegrías and other pieces. Instrumental sevillanas, attributed to Diego del Gastor’s brother “el Mellizo”, with sweet irresistible harmonies in the old style, is appreciated by the audience, not as a museum piece, but as exquisitely beautiful music. The group’s good taste and firm foundation means there’s no danger of triggering the corn alarm.

Life experiences that are more felt than remembered

Raúl Rodríguez (photo: Anniemiek Rooymans)

Paco de Amparo begins playing soleá, recalling the unmistakeable flavor of classic Morón variations, and the deep rough voice of Moi de Morón paves the way for Pepe Torres’ dancing. The dancer’s sober figure comes in for a landing with the calm importance of a Boeing. The singer’s voice invokes memories of the old singer Joselero de Morón and once again calls up life experiences that are more felt than remembered, while the communication between these men is palpable every step of the way.

Tangos from their first recording reproduces a kind of hurdy-gurdy sound and the flavor of a Cádiz-style rumba years before Pescaílla burst on the scene with his aggressive “rumba catalana”. Cuban breezes don’t blow all that far from Morón. All that’s left is the good-humored lesson in minimalist dancing always offered by Manolitio Flores. With forms learned at home and inspired in Anzonini, Paco Valdepeñas and el Marsellés, Flores is another time capsule of this fragile art in danger of extinction.

So you can see, this group’s success is within anyone’s reach. All you have to do is be born in a town with a long flamenco tradition, and love that tradition with the utmost humility, simplicity, energy, imagination and lots and lots of compás.

More information:

Interview with Son de la Frontera

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Son de la Frontera

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