Flamenco’ (1995) and ‘Sevillanas’ (1992). Director: Carlos Saura. Juan Lebrón Producciones

What more could you ask?

by Juan Vergillos

This film has much to offer. The artists and their performances were carefully calculated to keep an even pace: every centimeter of film is essential.  The most noteworthy interpreters of the era file across the screen under the naked gaze of Storaro, so that it is practically impossible to cite highlights beyond one’s own personal taste.  Even so, we can’t resist briefly recalling several sequences: the close-up of Paquera with her bulerías war-cry; no one had ever before portrayed the singer in such a truthful way.  Or the sensual warmth of Merche Esmeralda.  The categorical rhythm of Diego Carrasco.  The earthy moaning of Agujetas and the gut-wrenching silence that follows.  Never before had a martinete been filmed in such starkness.  The serene visceral quality of Toronjo.  The existential crunch of Fernanda de Utrera, the only artist, along with Chano Lobato, who also appeared in Neville’s “Duende y Misterio del Flamenco (1952)” the lone predecessor to this work.  Fernanda de Utrera’s interpretation is possibly the most moving moment of “Flamenco”: an unvarying close-up, almost institutional, breaks the soleá to pieces, this essential voice, the most important of the century that just ended, naked artifice and technical resources, almost voiceless, in the pure skeleton of cante: an essential truth.
 
Or the Grecian profile of María Pagés.  The intimate sadness, a miner’s lament turned into lyrical song, of Carmen Linares.  The perfectly tuned honey of Lole.  The raucous hoarseness of Rancapino.  The geometric seduction of Belén Maya.  And of course, the bare-chested torso of Joaquín Cortés.  And many other memorable moments (as already mentioned, the artistic and cinematographic level seems unsurpassable), since we are dealing with the most important interpreters of this art.  To those already mentioned we must add Morente, El Chocolate, Mario Maya, Tomatito, Manuela Carrasco, Mercé, Antonio Toscano, Manolo Sanlúcar, Matilde Coral, Paco de Lucía, Menese…  Some were young hopefuls on the way up, such as Belén Maya or Farruquito, and for them the film was a great impetus.  Others are now gone (Paco Toronjo, Farruco, La Paquera, El Chocolate), but there they are captured on film for future generations.
 
The work comes as a single package along with “Sevillanas” (1992), which is sort of prologue to the later film.  In this work two fundamental artists of the twentieth century offer their swan song: Lola Flores with a surprising, surrealistic, basic interpretation of rociera style sevillanas, and Camarón de la Isla, with sevillanas composed by Isidro Muñoz and which are as profound as siguiriyas, acrid, definitive, intimate, terminal. We must also add the names of Manuel Pareja-Obregón, Toronjo, Paco de Lucía, Manolo Sanlúcar, Rocío Jurado, Salmarina, Los Romeros de la Puebla and the Corraleras de Lebrija.  What more could you ask?