Text: Estela Zatania
Photos: Paco Sánchez
El Junco
Sala La Compañía. 1900h
Dance: El Junco. Guest artist: Susana Casas. Cante: David Lagos, David Palomar. Guitar: Ramón Amador, Michelle Iaccarino. Percussion: Roberto Jaén.
With the performance of dancer Juan José Jaén, “Junco”, the series of recitales “Solos en Compañía” devoted mostly to young dancers, came to an end.With more than a decade in the group of Cristina Hoyos, as dancer and choreographer, he took on the challenge of going solo at the Festival de Jerez, backed up by the little-known but very interesting dancer Susana Casas.
With a classic style, and a streamlined look that justified his nickname which means “reed”, Junco danced tangos with Susana, followed by siguiriyas on his own. Casas offered alegrías with a shawl and polkadot bata de cola, a perfect portrait of Seville-style flamenconess, with lots of personality. After a cante solo by David Lagos, one of the most interesting voices from the new generation of Jerez singers, Junco returned with soleá, excellent despite some hectic accelerations of the type no longer used in 2007.
It all comes to an end with a down-home fiesta finale that includes the dance bits of both Davids, Lagos and Palomar, quick-witted and full of compás, and the thoroughly dignified singing of el Junco.
Manolete / Agujetas
Teatro Villamarta. 2100h
Dance: Manolete, Judea Maya, Susi Parra, Mónica Fernández, Pol Vaquero, Isaac de los Reyes. Guitar: Felipe Maya, Basilio García, Juan Jiménez. Cello: Batio
For several years it’s been the custom of the Festival de Jerez to close the event with classic artists.With no smoke machines, cajón, flashy effects or superficiality of any sort, two much-admired veterans of flamenco dance and cante respectively, came to the Teatro Villamarta to demonstrate their absolute relevance.
Manolete, from the prolific center of dance that is Granada, with impeccable lineage, represents the next evolutionary step after Toni el Pelao whom we saw a few days earlier in the Sala La Compañía. Just like Pelao, he wore a vest, although there was no gold brocade, and the ruffled shirt was no longer present. Manolote’s dance is dry and sober, with that geometric touch popularized by his legendary paisano, Mario Maya.
Elegantly intense, fully justifying his professional longevity
After a siguiriyas presentation with the entire group, Manolote did a solo farruca, without cante and with cello, constructing a heavy, dense atmosphere. Next, the two young dancers, Pol Vaquero and Isaac de los Reyes, dressed in black, with white boots, a Michael Jackson image, began with soleá which soon turned into bulerías where the powerful influence left by Farruquito in relatively few years, became evident.
Manolete, seated, dressed in white, with a dramatic overhead spot, does footwork for a “false beginning” of soleá which turns out to be alegrías.Dancing to the cante of romeras (or Pinini, depending on which team you’re on, Cádiz or Lebrija), that was so popular in the nineteen-seventies, the grand master is elegantly intense, fully justifying his professional longevity.He is rewarded with enthusiastic, grateful applause.
After intermission, when the curtain goes up, the mere presence on stage of Manuel de los Santos Pastor, “Agujetas”, triggers an ovation. This is the last performance of the 2007 Festival de Jerez, and people have come prepared to hear the weather-beaten voice and delivery of “the last flamenco singer” – the maestro Manuel himself uses that description, and at seventy-something, he is undoubtedly the oldest professional singer of basic cante.
From the first verse of soleá, the shouts of “ole!” ring out, and many of us have fingers crossed hoping the singer will simply sing and not make outlandish statements as is is his custom. Immediately you notice how he works the compás, traveling masterfully through the highs and lows of the pulse, never considering pre-packaged units of twelve that so many younger artists take literally these days. Compás the way God intended it to be, to receive the singer’s inspiration and let the rest of us participate in it.Guitarist Antonio Soto is overly-cautious, but we must take into consideration what it entails to accompany this undomesticated, anarchic singer.
As on other occasions, Agujetas has the annoying custom of not developing the set of cantes with three or more verses, but rather delivers two, and springs from his seat indicating he’s finished. The audience applauds and then he continues, even though he might go on with the same form. His repertoire is limited, but we already knew that, and no one seems to care: soleá, siguiriya, fandangos and martinete, delving into his own darkness, in relentless pursuit of the duende.“Bulería pa’escuchar, o al golpe” says the maestro... no way to make it any clearer for the uninitiated: he’s talking about soleá por bulería, although he abstains from the classic styles of La Moreno, La Peña and El Gloria, and it’s more like a free-wheeling soleá with marchlike compás instead of being phrased and shaded.
Delving into his own darkness, in relentless pursuit of the duende
With fandangos he gets the first important applause which seems to put him in a good mood, and he indulges in pleasant small talk with the audience.“I’ve got a very old cante from Sanlúcar”, and he sings the cante of La Mica to siguiriyas: “De Sanlúcar al Palmar / había un carril / que lo había hecho Tía Juana la Mica / de ir y venir”. [‘From Sanlúcar to El Palmar, there was a well-worn path made by old Juana la Mica from so much coming and going’]. He follows with martinetes, not without first declaring “They’re ruining flamenco, and the environment too!”, and his ecological leanings draw a strong round of applause.Manuel calls for his son Antonio to appear on stage. The young Agujetas looks frail and disoriented and mumbles: “Good evening to everyone, and to all the flamenco bosses”. He sings the toná of the “petate”, sounding older and more rancid than his father who doesn’t take his eyes off the young man for a single moment. After one siguiriya verse, Manuel indicates he should wrap it up and leave the stage. The father offers more siguiriyas, followed by the mercifully short dance of Kanako, Mrs. Agujetas; “She must have gypsy blood!” exclaims Manuel, and I’m suddenly reminded of Citizen Kane and that woman he wanted to turn into an opera singer.
Tientos is the only variation in the repertoire, and they’re tangos de Jerez, ended with Triana styles. The singer jokes with the audience explaining how he learned to write his name in Japanese and eat with chopsticks. He’s feeling good and warms up for more siguiriyas, taking the tone a hair sharp as he does to such great effect at strategic moments. One lone verse, then he bolts to his feet, waves goodbye and thus ends the 2007 edition of the Festival de Jerez.
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