He speaks the way he plays, smooth and enveloping, you understand him from the first work and everything seems perfectly in place. But what José Antonio Rodríguez says and thinks is full of great depth. His guitar goes against all trends and his words are militant. A true romantic, he defends his music to the limits of his artistic sensitivity, because one year after his inaugural concert at the Córdoba Festival de la Guitarra, José Antonio Rodríguez is presenting the sounds and images of that evening in a double format (CD and DVD) with Universal called….
… “Córdoba en el tiempo”…
Yes. “Córdoba throughout time”, it’s how I see Córdoba from my vantage point in Seville. But the title also refers to time as a musical measure, and it was a title that seemed to suggest itself from the first piece, because if we were to look for a motif for the work, it would be the river, the water that brings each composition. The concert begins with a sound that strives to represent that process. Basically it’s a small artistic conceit of setting the memories of my hometown to music. Some people don’t understand why I dedicated a soleá to Guadalcázar, which is a very small village, but which has tremendous sentimental meaning for me because my father used to take us along those dirt roads, and what could be more meaningful than putting music to something I’ve experienced. For me, that’s normal, and I even make a point of it, all my recent work is based on life experiences. I must try change a little and break into something else.
Was it planned beforehand that this concert would become a CD/DVD?
Not at all. The concert was commissioned by the Festival de la Guitarra de Córdoba using different recording methods than for a standard concert, with top-of-the-line equipment, three technicians… The idea of the recording was good, considering that we had all that at our disposal. We also had full run of the theater for four days to test sound and lighting. Obviously, this is not the typical situation, in most places you’re lucky to get two hours, which is a lot. So my technician, Eduardo Ruiz, suggested that since we had all this, why not rent a multitrack system. So we did just that and called in the technician who usually does my recordings. And once that was done, “why not get some cameramen as well?” And we went from two, up to six cameras. So the concert took place July 3rd, 2006, and the record was finished being mixed in early 2007, because we took our time, without even knowing if it would ever be released. But we liked the results so much, and the video people did such a great job, we decided to propose it to Universal, and they liked the idea a lot. And here we have the first part of “Córdoba en el Tiempo”, because next year it will be completed with the complete DVD of what went on, including some of the lighting and sound tests.
“No one complains when a symphony lasts 20 minutes. I don’t create with the idea that the music has to last three and a half minutes so it can be played on the radio”
Were these pieces composed specifically for the occasion?
There’s a little of everything. For example, there’s music created by me, but not for myself, but rather for the Ballet Nacional de España. I picked up bits and pieces of thing, but there’s also material created specifically for this record.
They’re long compositions compared to what others do. Do you feel more comfortable with this format?
Yes. I’ve been criticized at time for being too dense or “undefined”, buy no one complains when a symphony lasts 20 minutes. I don’t create with the idea that the music has to last three and a half minutes so it can be played on the radio. That can be great, but when I set about a new work, I do it from the musical point of view, and in my case, when I began to make my music, I put aside the traditional system of “falsetas” or “variations” commonly used in flamenco, especially in cante accompaniment. I find it difficult to develop a theme in three or four minutes. On this occasion there were ten musicians on stage, and you have to balance the various sounds. So the shortest piece is just over eight minutes…I may have come up short (he laughs). We took out a few things: in the siguiriya, which isn’t on this recording but will be included on the DVD, I cut some things that didn’t seem to work well within the group, but generally speaking, I don’t think in terms of ending the piece after a certain amount of time.
That’s just what I was going to mention, that your compositions aren’t a succession of more or less structured guitar variations or falsetas (a tremolo here, a picado run there…), but rather one unified concept, one emotional thread.
Well, this is nothing new. In flamenco, since there are no real guidelines, you try everything until it comes together. It takes us longer. What I’m doing is to develop. Years ago Astor Piazzolla and Leo Brouwer told me that with one single flamenco falseta you could create an entire work. What we flamencos do is condense everything in a minute and a half. I particularly believe this because flamenco is just that, the falseta, the flash in the pan, say a lot with very little, but it’s also true we can take advantage of the knowledge that comes to us from other kinds of music and other musicians to develop what we already have. Today, flamenco is in the theaters, and there’s an official school. It’s another kind of music. I’ve even commented at times that it’s become music for the elite, and that’s not bad. We have the most traditional, and the most innovative musicians. There are all kinds of tastes, and we shouldn’t cut that wide range of colors.
In flamenco, a lot of artists have been sidelined as far as the general public is concerned, great creators who never received due recognition for their genius. For example, I was glad to see the name of Cobitos on your record.
Since flamenco is such a living, dynamic art, fashion comes into play. This is inevitable, and there is much injustice. There have been people who made great music and were pivotal in the success of others. In that small space between one season and another, they didn’t receive the credit they deserved since they were never widely known. The same thing would have happened with Cobitos had it not been for Luis de Córdoba, for whom I played in some festivals and recorded many years ago along with Enrique de Melchor. It was Luis de Córdoba who spoke to me about Cobitos and he sang one of his tarantas whose verse I can’t remember right now, but which had some very unusual melodic turns. I was always impressed by that cante, and I asked him to do it for me. So when I composed this work thinking of my hometown of Córdoba, I wasn’t only thinking of certain places, but also experiences and, in this case, those encounters with Luis de Córdoba were fundamental. Thanks to Luis I was introduced to a series of cantes I would never have heard if it hadn’t been for Luis.
“I not only got up close but I’ve been in the “infirmary” more than a few times with serious “wounds” because of my commitment to flamenco”
That taranta on the record is wonderful. It’s done with tender loving care, there’s an exquisite sensitivity.
Yes, I’m especially fond of the music of the Levante because those were the first things I began to compose. It’s also true that my first prize was at La Unión, in 1981, I’ve been through a lot since then, and the first thing I had to compose for the contest was a taranta. That style of music is very special for me, and comes naturally to my way of feeling and playing. And although F sharp holds many mysteries, fortunately, I feel very comfortable in that key and that emotional ambience.
In “Alquimia” you use some poems of Félix Grande. Despite being so involved with flamenco for so many years, very little of his verse has been put to cante, except by Lebrijano and one or two others… But in this piece Rafael de Utrera does the soleá apolá of Cobitos.
Félix is an incredible poet, a great flamenco follower and a friend. With Félix Grande I’ve been in debt since my first recording because he wrote a text that he later published in a book and whose title was that of another record of mine: “Luna al Atardecer”. So I was really indebted to him. I had to put music to something of his. I decided to do it with Rafael’s voice – he’s an exceptional singer with speed and light in his voice that makes my hair stand on end – and I chose a poem that Félix wrote about the painter Antonio López. There’s an introduction of bulería por soleá…three and a half minutes! But I couldn’t bear to cut that. It was a little poetic license I took during the concert. It was what I felt like doing, music is music, then we put in the cante, the guitar and even Rosario Toledo’s dancing. It’s a piece that includes everyone who participates in the concert.
When I listen to your music, and not only on recordings, but also what you compose for dance works like “La Leyenda” for the Ballet Nacional de España, I have the feeling that it’s not just an idea and a development…the guitar seems to situate the action in a specific place, in an atmosphere with its own particular landscape, its own color…
Yes, the thing is that its physically impossible to touch, and that’s a drag. I’d like to express what I think. On this record precisely is the siguiriya from La Leyenda which, thanks to José Antonio, I was able to play live for the Ballet Nacional, because previously it was just recorded music from the ballet. When I composed that work I was very interested in it, like another I did for guitar and orchestra about Picasso’s blue period, and god only knows when that will be released, if ever. So I like not only to develop the idea, the melody or a specific harmony, but to change it along the way. I don’t whether you’d call it atmosphere, or ambience… You can play the same musical phrase with a different suit of clothes. I like to tinker with the music, but without giving it away, looking for the element of surprise with people’s emotions. It wears me out. It takes a lot of work, because you need time which, with all the concerts I have, is simply not available. But when I’m working on a specifically commissioned work, I devote myself to that and try to make it happen. Then too it’s a great learning experience for me.
“I like to tinker with the music, but without giving it away, looking for the element of surprise with people’s emotions”
Would you say your music is becoming more lyrical?
I’ve always been a defender of melody and musicality. Always. Of course, with interesting harmony, but since I’m an incorregible romantic, if there’s anything I keep up, it’s my way of expressing music. Musically, there’s very little left of that boy who recorded in 1984, because you pass through stages, however the way of expressing yourself, the way you use certain mechanisms, continues to be the same from the outset. And at this stage of the came, I don’t think I’m going to change.
One of the things I most like about your guitar, and is very evident in the long pieces, is that it’s like reading a book with your eyes closed. Your music is understood perfectly. All you have to do is let yourself go…but if you stop to analyze what you’re listening to, you realize how complex it is, the richness of the elements and the variations of that dialogue.
It happens to me too, and as a guitarist it drives me crazy. I put on the DVD and sometimes it even seem too easy like you say. But then I pick up the guitar and I know just what I’m doing. When I give a course or master class and someone else plays it, you don’t expect the person to play what you heard, which is much more complex than it seems. It’s even happened to me studying. My wife says I make things to hard for myself, but I’ve always done it, I’ve always admired Serranito, and it shows. Although I admire Serranito for many other things as well. I’ve always taken the difficult route because I’m curious about things. But in any case, it good to know my work is interesting for a guitarist and understandable for the audience.
That’s something Serranito has always said, “I have the habit of taking the difficult route in life…”
I remember the fifteen days I spent in Serranito’s hours, in Arturo Soria, and I couldn’t believe it because he was a big star, and to be able to see him play every morning, and seeing the incredible things that man does with the instrument… It drove me crazy. I remember Leo Brouwer told me I’m a polyphonic flamenco guitarist. At first, I was puzzled by that, but later on I realized it’s precisely what I’m trying for, polyphonies on the guitar. You lose some of the effects we have in flamenco, but you achieve another type of sound.
“I’ve always taken the difficult route because I’m curious about things”
And with more depth, since there are various conversations taking place at the same time…
Of course, I can’t play a melody one note at a time, “a cuerda pelá” like they say, which can be very effective, even necessary at times, but my background is of another nature, and I try to follow it.
Another surprising thing is the graphic concept of the work. Even the plastic case has rounded corner, and the cover photo of you with your guitar is all out of focus…the print is special, a contemporary concept.
Everyone who participated in the work had a part in this. The photographer is María Moya, a childhood friend from Córdoba, and the whole idea of the record cover comes from Universal, the team of Fernando Crespo and Javier Pozo. The photos were from a documentary of the soundcheck and live performance. On the cover is a lighting check: the designer told me to sit like I was going to play the guitar, to see how the light fell, what the background was like and all that. And since I was dying to play, because the concert was two days away, I was already thinking of that, so it’s like I’m playing but without a guitar. A designer friend of mine told mme the guitar and the music are represented although they’re not visible…I think this team was a great idea and they deserve credit. I’m delighted…and overwhelmed with it all: the originality, the way it’s being received…
You mentioned earlier there’s been a lot of water under the bridge…¿did you ever get wet?
How do you mean?
Did you protect yourself, or were you vulnerable?
‘You mustn’t look back, not even to take a running jump’, it’s a good saying. I only do it when I have to put my house in order and I find those prizes they’ve given me over 20 or 25 years…or when I get angry with my son and I realize I’ve spent 30 years with the guitar, and then I realize all the water under the bridge… With all that I know now, I wish I was 20 years old to keep killing myself with the guitar, because this profession is pleasure, but it’s also suffocating in many ways: it drains you of energy, it’s incredible mental and physical exercise. Arthritis is a problem for everyone, our joints wear down from overuse, and from trying to get 28 hours out of each day, you end up paying a price. Lots of water under the bridge, but I keep charging forward with my umbrella.
But do you fight the “bull” with the tip of the sword, or do you get up close?
Well, if you look at my career, I not only got up close but I’ve been in the “infirmary” more than a few times with serious “wounds” because of my commitment to flamenco. I have a personal commitment with my music and culture. I also try to defend flamenco at the institutional level, or even against the institutions. I’m not aggressive or anything like it, but sometimes I have no patience with the injustice we have to put up with. It’s not that flamenco isn’t appreciated, no. That’s ridiculous. The serious problem is what they do at the institutional level with flamenco, because in the end we’re all just politicians’ puppets. So yes, on occasion I’ve brought out the heavy artillery against powerful institutions and then of course, they put you on the famous black list that no one has seen, but we all know exists. I try to defend flamenco music. The truth is, we the artists are the first ones who need to really reflect, to be on top of what’s happening. Flamenco is on the move, and we can’t keep saying flamenco is duende, art and gracia, I mean yes, it’s also that, but duende can also be explained. So to keep saying “look how much duende he has” and similar phrases are only for a small private group, because everything can be explained and deciphered. Nowadays there’s much information and culture, so we can stop doing the Spanish culture bit.
Another one who pulls no punches is Maria Maya. He says the important thing in art isn’t the temporary thing, but that which is transcendental, the music you record knowingly and deliberately. What does it take for music to be “transcendental” according to you?
I firmly believe the music we’re making now is going to last over the years. I sincerely think audiences are not prepared for what we’re composing. Lots of people say what we’re doing now isn’t flamenco, and flamenco is what Ramón Montoya did. And of course, it was. But in just a few years we’ve become accustomed to a certain sound, a series of themes, and little by little people will get used to what we’re doing now. Right now is not an easy time, but it will last over the years. I play so the audience may enjoy the music, but I also need to have a good time, because if not, I wouldn’t be able to express myself. Flamenco will be enjoyed once people start to realize everything that’s being done. Now, if the record industry keeps making trouble, it’s possible no one will ever be able to enjoy this music. And that’s where the institutions come in, the problem is flamenco is not being disseminated by the record companies. The record companies are commercial institutions that exist for a very specific reason, but the people who should guarantee that this record will still be available in two or three years, even if it’s not commercial, are the public institutions who keep watch over flamenco, and there are many. I can’t understand how there are so many institutions, and such poor results.
What are your expectations for this work? And don’t tell me you hope to get air-time on the Top of the Pops.
No, not with this record. That’s all forgotten. Before, yes, I fought for that and even got it with a previous recording, they were playing it every hour, but only for one week, but for me, that was a success. I think I’ve got everything sewn up with this record. Firstly, the fact that it’s here, all finished…I never thought it would happen. Then, there’s a great deal of interest in contracting live performance, and lots of work after October. I’ve also been talking to the company about a series of plans for the record, but of course I’m not going to spill the beans [he laughs]. I don’t mean it’s bad luck, because I don’t think like that, I just don’t want to brag, and I still see it all very distant. I’m content the record has been born, and I’ll be changing its diapers for a while.
Speaking of diapers, how many children do you have?
One, the fifteen-year-old.
Does he like flamenco?
A lot. He likes flamenco a lot and music in general, but he doesn’t play any instrument. He started out playing several. For example the classical flute, which I still can’t get to make any sound, he pulls out melodies in a half hour. But I think he sees a musician as someone who spends eight hours sitting in the living-room plugging away at the guitar. When he was small he used to say to me “are you going to play the same thing again?” There was a certain negative reaction. And yet, he has the facility, lots of compás and a good ear. Sometimes he’ll hum something I’ve done, and I’m not capable of doing that. He’s involved, and not involved, kind of a double play.
If he comes to you some day and says he wants to be a flamenco guitarist, do you lock him in the closet until he gets over it, or do you encourage him?
He can do whatever he wants. At home we’ve never pressured him to study, and gets top grades at school. The way things are today, he’s too old to decide on a career in music. He’s 15, and when I was 16, I won the National Prize at La Unión. Even so, he can be a great lover of cante, amateur guitarist or play the cajón. And have a good time, because that’s also getting scarce these days, there are fewer connoisseurs of flamenco all the time.
