Interview with ANTONIO REY, new release 'Colores del fuego'

He’s still one of the great promises for flamenco fans.  At his age, and with what he’s achieved, any predictions about the future of guitar-playing always include him.  But Antonio Rey (Madrid, 1981) still labors under the burden shared by his entire generation: that he is more a virtuoso than a musician.  Nevertheless, that obstacle that keeps natural competitors from moving forward, in this case of a young prodigy, the obstacle seems to melt away in his second recording, “Colores de Fuego”.  A spectacular, and at moments advanced piece of recorded guitar music.

It’s been a long time since we’ve seen such sincerity in front of a tape recorder, and it says a lot about him, because in these “promo” times we live in, performers tend to put on a mask for the world….

In this record I think you settled down a bit more than in the first.
Yes, you could also say I’m a different guitarist.  And this is actually my first record.  Much more flamenco, and what’s more, closer to who I really am.  With things taken from others, of course, you know, but more like a recollection, not so much in the delivery or creation which is where I’m beginning to have a place of my own.  I see much more of myself, in the production, in the sound, everything.  Before, there was no one to help me with the production, I used too much picado, it was sheer competitiveness…

I know that two years ago you didn’t like that first style I had, the live solo recording from Sabatini…(Laughter)

I just didn’t like it, it wasn’t you, it was other people’s ideas.  And that someone like you should play like that, it didn’t seem good for the future of guitar…
It’s possible I took inspiration from others, from my idols, it’s true, and I don’t mean that as a defense.  In this work I began to be me…it’s an uphill struggle until you find who you are and get just the right personality. And even so, in the bulería “por medio” for example, there’s a lot of Paco de Lucía.

It’s funny, the second bulería sounds more “Paquera” to me.  And then, to call the rumba “Río de Miel”…generally speaking you sound more like Paco de Lucía to me than Vicente Amigo, no matter what they say.
I was considering using that for the title of the record.  But Farru told me Paco de Lucía had a piece with that name, the bulerías from the record “Luzía”.  I hadn’t actually realized that, but it’s true.

And couldn’t your record include what you played in Córdoba where you won the contest?  That was your own material, and playing solo.
Yes, but then the possibilities of making a record are non-existent, know what I mean?  And there aren’t that many back-up musicians on some of the cuts.  I always try to make it all sound flamenco.  The bulerías for example, it soulds totally like bulerías.  I’ve got a soleá that should contribute to stopping purists’ heart attacks.  If you give people a whole record of guitar on its own, four copies will be sold.  Yes, there’s lots of compás, rumba and all that.  One day I’ll have to make my dream record, but as it stands today, I wouldn’t be able to get ahead in this.  The record companies demand a certain portion of the content be catchy.  The way it is with pirating, if you sell few records despite a bunch of stellar collaborations, imagine if it was just one single guitarist.  I’ve got a rondeña and a siguiriya…but how was I going to fill up a record?  And on top of it, when a big company seeks me out….I wasn’t about to offer resistance.

The Córdoba prize was what you were missing.
In 2004 they paid no attention to me at all.  That year I reached the finals, but Gabriel Expósito won.  This time, in the 2010 edition, I finally got that out of my system, because in addition to the prize for solo guitar, they gave me the prizes for dance and cante accompaniment.  I was delighted.

So what was missing the first time?
Luck I guess…it was a different panel of judges, this time it was Manolo Sanlúcar, Serranito, José Antonio Rodríguez…
 
And I won’t be going to any more, that’s done with.  Competition is hard, it’s rough for the losers…anyhow, music is no longer a fight or a competition for me.  It was then because my father asked me to do that, he said it would give me the prestige I was lacking, that important prize…

But now I’ve got another mindset, and that change came from listening to the geniuses who use the guitar for making music, not for showing off, something all too common in my generation.

Getting back to your original compositions…I’ve seen people in competition play works that are not their own, and that’s not the case with you.  And then they were given the prize when the contest rules stated that was not permitted. 
What it comes down to is the judges haven’t got a clue.  There are people who play material from el Viejín, and the judges don’t even know who that is.  I always bring my own material.  If I didn’t, winning wouldn’t have any meaning.  I know Paco’s rondeña by heart, I know Vicente’s records from beginning to end, but I wouldn’t bring those pieces to a contest.

You’ve brought out a second recording relatively soon after the first, when “A Través de ti” could still be circulating.
I began to think about this second one almost immediately, yes, the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle started coming together very quickly.  In two weeks I recorded the guitar part, and another month for the collaborations.  I had no desire to be kicking this around for a year, no way.

Vicente Amigo is probably the most important guest artist.  What relationship do you have with him?
Right now, very good, for me it was like a gift from heaven.  Certainly he was always one of my idols.  Ever since I heard his first record….he’s one of a kind.

I once played with Farruco, in his show “Al Natural” he showed up in the dressing-room, I didn’t even know he’d been in the audience.  He told me he really liked what I had done, and that’s how we met.  I sent him my record.  A short time afterwards, I took my car from Jerez and the next day went to see him perform in Murcia and went to say hello.  He really thought highly of me.  I accompanied him to the hotel, and we were playing for a long time.  A great guy, completely natural, really good person.  And, well, that’s how it was.  I made this recording in Córdoba, where he tends to make his recordings, in his studio alongside the house.  He came to see me while I was right in the middle of working…

He’s a terrific guitarist, plays all day long.  He goes to few fiestas, so devoted to his family and to the guitar.  That’s the only way to do this, and to play the way he plays.  To play at that level, you either give it everything you’ve got, or nothing.  He’s got things that would make you cry, absolutely incredible.  He’s working on a new record.

Is he already recording?
No, but he’s got some things prepared, three or four rhythmic compositions.

I said that his previous record had been the “worst”, the least flamenco.
But most likely, the way things are it happens to all of us, it didn’t depend on him, know what I mean?

It feels short that piece, just three minutes, compared to other longer ones…the guitars open the recording and go directly to that number.
You know the saying, “if it’s good and also brief, doubly good”…It’s a circle built on a basically simple, but at the same time complex theme…and it wasn’t a question of playing with him for seven minutes, and expecting that to be acceptable to his record company…and Vicente really holds nothing back.

Really?
Absolutely.  That’s how we are.  It just shows how good Paco’s recording “Fuente y Caudal” was, that they made him add a rumba, which is what caused his extraordinary popularity.  No one is immune to that policy.

As journalist and flamenco-lover I lay it out here and now for anyone who’s interested.  Because the first thing a guitarist is going to do with this record is go straight to the piece with Vicente Amigo, and it’s one of the shortest.
Exactly.

I didn’t know you were such an admirer of Josemi Carmona.
Yes, and in fact I wanted him to produce my record.  I’ve always listened to Ketama’s music, what he used to do, I’ve always admired his father, who is a friend of mine, a guitarist and producer of excellent recordings.  By the same token, since I knew he was a producer it was an appealing idea to count on him and learn from him.  But when I brought him two pieces, he told me there was little he could do, that almost everything was done and he just added the mandola at the beginning.

He says that with someone like you playing, he doesn’t make guitar solo recordings any more…(Laughter)
He’s a fantastic musician, the thing is he’s already got his playing style set, and he’s the best in that style.  If you make him play soleá, taranta…although he might do it well, but that would be taking him out of his ambience.  He has his own personal style.

Farru and Farruquito, your dancers.
Farru is the godfather of my daughter Mara, we’ve been friends for a long time.  His wife is there singing too…delightful.

Farruquito and me, just imagine.  He does all the palmas and almost all the letras, he’s an artist for whom I can only feel the deepest admiration.

Many people count on him as a composer, but you hardly hear about that facet of his.
That one or anything else, such a great artist, he plays a guitar falseta and makes you cry, he plays the piano…but when they talk about Juan now it always goes back to the same thing….
Now he’s preparing a work with a group of dancers to gather his earlier productions.  No matter how much I talk about him, it always falls short.

You surround yourself with musicians much in the line of Paco de Lucía.
I know the maestro, I’ve played with him, we’ve been together a lot.  He said he liked my first record, that he follows me on youtube.  When he does something new, he’s going to really stir things up, wait and see.

What you do with Estrella  Morente, I think that’s a work of art, the best thing on the record in the modern line.  What do you do to compose like that?
Look, Estrella is something else.  The first thing, the idea can hit you any time, anywhere, in the bathroom, the dressing-room, the hotel…then you record it, you put it in order and that’s that.  And Estrella’s part.  I’d given up on her because her father had just died and I wasn’t going to call her again to remind her we had to record…but it was her, five days after her father’s funeral!!  She said it gave her life and happiness to sing that nana.  And she kept her promise in best of faith, it was really something.  And the fandangos.

The musical motif was in my head ever since my wife got pregnant, then we added things like the bonus track from the first record, it’s a Pat Metheny thing…

You also called Arcángel.
It was more like a fiesta with him than with Vicente (laughter).

What’s behind the title “Suena a Pelaíllas”?
That’s a tribute to the dynasty of the Pelaíllas, which is where my mother is from, she’s half gypsy.

Who’s “Mi Hermano Carlos”?  You only have a sister…
An intimate Mexican friend of mine, from childhood, who died in a traffic accident and to whom I owed this.  It’s true, I only have a sister.  At least that’s all my father told me about (laughter).

I’m very interested in talking about the guitarists of your generation.  How does it look to you?
Look, for me it’s Diego del Morao.  We’re different, he’s more flamenco.  More pungent and steeped in tradition.  I’ve got another line.  I also have to say, that talking about other guitarists, there aren’t as many as people think, nor as good.

The generation before mine was fabulous, with Vicente, Gerardo, Cañizares, Riqueni…too much!…but the one before that with Paco, Serranito, Manolo, Enrique de Melchor…absolutely tops.
It’s very difficult to play and create like that, it was another era.  I grew up listening to Josemi, Metheny and Vicente.  They took the modern element from Sabicas, and went further.
Now, like I said before, people my age just want to impress, and I can’t be bothered with that any more.  I’d rather hear an “ole!”, than have them come to me with their eyes bugging out in wonderment.

And tomorrow you’re off on tour.
I’m on my way to Copenhagen, Netherlands, Barcelona…and all alone!!!  Now I can play whatever I want, wait and see.  Live performance is my secret weapon.

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