Remembering Niño Ricardo on the centennial of his birth

Without
him, flamenco guitar would not be what it is today. Simple as that.
Clearly genius does not abound in human endeavors, but I have not
the least doubt that Ricardo was a genius in his chosen field. His
sound, when he strummed siguiriyas, or bulerías among other
things, has not been rivaled except by those who followed his path,
heart and soul, in dogged devotion…but never managing more than
that, a mere imitation.

His creative imagination, for both rhythm and harmony, would bubble
to the surface every time he picked up the instrument, and it surpassed
the technique of his very hands. It could be said he thought beyond
what his fingers were capable of achieving…but that precise quality
was a personal struggle with the guitar, not all that different
from a singer who struggles with the cante, and his musical sensibility
was such, that he turned this technical shortcoming into an asset.
I’ve often heard how guitarists comment how Ricardo might
have played with cleaner, more advanced technique. Ridiculous! Ricardo
developed the technique he needed, not a whit more or less. Would
he have sounded equally flamenco if each scale and arpeggio had
been played with absolute perfection? Ricardo with the technical
ability of Sabicas? I doubt it very much. In retrospect, it’s
possibly Sabicas was more of a guitarist, and Ricardo more of a
flamenco.

Without
him, flamenco guitar would not be what it is today. Simple as that.

Soleá, fandango, siguiriya…these and other forms were
forever changed by Ricardo. From that point on it was like redirecting
the course of a river. That’s what genius is about when you
come down to it. Ramón Montoya also did this, Sabicas did
it, and so did Paco de Lucía…and someone else will eventually
come along. This process of art is like a relay race where the baton
is snatched away by youthful newcomers…provided they have the
ability.

Javier Molina and Ramón Montoya are the foundation upon which
Ricardo’s technique is based, not to mention Manolo de Huelva
with his rhythmic picados, so full of that flamenco sound. But then,
spurred on by that incredible creative spark Ricardo created a way
of playing that was so personal, so spirited and attractive that
he became the object of imitators both in Spain and abroad, resulting
in “the Ricardo school” which completely changed the
panorama of guitar-playing at the time. Originality is what most
distinguishes his playing, that unique sound, different from anything
that came before. I can personally testify to the fact that for
as great as he sounds in some of his recordings, the reality of
hearing him in person was always superior. To see him and hear him
was an indescribable experience.

What
singer of the era never recorded with Ricardo? Offhand, I can’t
think of any. He accompanied Pastora and Tomás Pavón,
Pepe Pinto, Manolo Caracol, Pepe Marchena, El Gloria, Valderrana,
Morente, Lebrijano, Antonio Mairena and many many others. It’s
quite possible he outdid Ramón Montoya in this regard…come
to think of it, he most certainly did. Someone somewhere must keep
statistics about these things. Naturally, he played for the most
outstanding singers of his time, but also for other lesser artists
who are remembered precisely for having recorded with this prodigious
guitarist.

His fingernails grew up and back as could be observed when his
outstretched hand rested on a bar counter or held a drinking glass.
He used to say “shit fingernails!”…fragile and constantly
breaking, but no one can deny that this had an effect on that special
sound of his…so…Ricardo-like. He recalled how Montoya once told
him “I can’t imagine how you play guitar so well with
those hands of yours”, to which he answered in his typically
irreverent manner, “me neither!”

Niño Ricardo con Carbonerillo y Pepe Pinto

It must be said that Niño Ricardo’s sense of humor
was not everyone’s cup of tea. He epitomized the wicked Spanish
rogue, a personality that came naturally to him, “defecating”
on the mother, father and ancestors of the most high-flung celebrities
whenever and wherever the inspiration struck him. After a throat
operation left him with a husky forced voice, friends and acquaintances
often inquired, with a certain degree of sarcasm, whether it was
true he had lost his voice, to which his quick and incisive riposte
was always “Yeah, but I’ve still got enough to ‘cagarme
en tós tus muertos’!” And you had to hear him
describe how poor defenseless mussels would shriek when he put them
live into boiling water: “Ricardo sonofabitch! Maricón!
¡Me cago en tus muertos!”

Esteban de Sanlúcar once told me when they were young, he
and Ricardo would play one prank after another on Melchor de Marchena,
one of the worst being one night after a drunken party when it occurred
to them to clip off Melchor’s right-hand thumbnail to the
quick while he was fast asleep, not long before they had to go to
the theater where the three of them were to perform. The “pzot
thunk” sound that came out of Melchor’s guitar, and
the looks he flashed them had the others nearly falling over themselves
with laughter on stage.

Felix de Utrera

And yet…there were times when everything was different, when
it seemed Ricardo had no self-confidence. Felix de Utrera, one of
his great admirers and followers, tells how they both had been drinking
quite a bit at his house one day. Ricardo picked up the guitar and
played some fantastic riffs to which Felix reacted enthusiastically,
praising Ricardo to the skies. Ricardo asked over and over if Felix
really thought he was any good, as if he couldn’t believe
it. This maestro who was so secure on stage and in life, didn’t
believe in himself. Felix insisted and repeated that he was the
best guitarist in the world, that there was no one who could play
that well, and “may lightning strike me dead if it isn’t
so”. Ricardo finally embraced Felix and both men broke down
crying.

Paco
de Lucía was weaned on the Ricardo school which was, without
any doubt, for a long time, HIS style of playing. The story goes,
and it’s likely true, that it was Sabicas who counseled the
boy in New York to look for himself, “play your own things”.
And that was when we saw Paco open the floodgates of his impressive
genius to let flow a tidal wave of flamenco sounds never before
heard, astonishing, extremely flamenco, he turned the guitar on
his head and inside-out like a sock…but the edifice upon which
he built was pure Ricardo, the foundations that cannot be seen but
which support all the rest.

Paco de Lucía

Without a doubt, a broad sampling of taste would bring up guitarists
who were more ‘gitano’, more technical, who dominated
the instrument better…whatever. But I doubt there has ever been
any with more “gracia”, in the best sense of the word,
with greater musicality and knowledge of cante, with more….flamenconess,
than Manuel Serrapi, for posterity, Niño Ricardo…

And don’t anyone be looking for bones to pick…this is just
a fond and personal tribute, nothing more…

Arzapúa