44th Festival de Cante Jondo de Mairena

44th
Festival de Cante Jondo de Mairena

Saturday, September 3rd,
2005. 11:00pm. Casa Palacio, Mairena del Alcor

Text & photos: Estela Zatania

It was a warm, sultry night for one of the last
cante festivals of this season, at the epicenter of the universe
that triggered the entire festival movement, not because it
was the first festival, because that honor belongs to Utrera
with its Potaje which next year celebrates its fiftieth anniversary,
but because it was here that Antonio Cruz García, “Antonio
Mairena” was born. No town on the flamenco map is more
powerfully identified with one single cante star as Mairena
del Alcor with Antonio Mairena, and it’s understandable.
Twenty-two years after his death, the singer continues to
be the object of as much admiration as heated debate, and
every flamenco fan has a well-formed opinion about “Mairenism”.

Calixto Sánchez with Manolo Franco	Manuela Carrasco

The night before the festival, at the amphitheater of the
Casa Palacio, the parallel cante contest was held, and as
is the tradition, the winner, Nazaret Cala, broke the silence
with the first cante of the evening. This young lady from
Puerto de Santa María has come to be a regular at cante
festivals, and her style reflects the obsessive attention
to detail, the perfect pitch, the carefully enunciated verse
and measured compás required to avoid making mistakes
which could cost her the prizes she longs for. She has everything.
Almost. Like poor Pinocchio, they forgot to give her a soul,
and it’s only worth mentioning because it represents
a worrisome phenomenon. Those flamenco-followers who have
their hands permanently raised to their heads bemoaning the
disappearance of cante, are constantly trying to find ways
of stimulating the interest of new young singers. Supposedly
contests contribute to achieving this admirable goal, but
what we’re seeing is a little army of blister-pak’d
singers tumbling off an assembly-line, individuals with tremendous
dedication and good intentions who manage to perpetuate the
cantes without enriching the art.

Her dancing, the magnificent shawls
she always wears, her imposing presence and her singing

But it’s a lengthy program and things get going little
by little. Antonio Ortega junior, a native of Mairena, accompanied
by the underestimated guitarist Niño Elías,
dedicates his soleá to Mairena’s flamenco fans,
and as is only fitting, he delivers a varied series of styles
paying special attention to the Seville repertoire with seldom-heard
cantes like that of Roezna (Alcalá) and Jilica (Marchena),
all well-defined. Next up, tientos tangos, and seeing as how
we’re in complaining mood, I wish to declare that I
liked it much more when tientos was not merely the prologue
to tangos, but an entity unto itself, ended, at most, with
a short bit of tangos. The young man has some annoying dissonances,
but the local audience loves him and responds with effusive
applause. Siguiriyas “dedicated to my father and to
Niño Elías, the two people who are guiding and
helping me”, which gives an indication of the involvement
of the guitarist we have before us. Once again however the
interpretations are correct, but the duendes fail to appear.

Esperanza FErnández con Miguel A. Cortés	Aurora Vargas

Esperanza Fernández from Triana is admirable for four
reasons which are, in descending order: her dancing, the magnificent
shawls she always wears, her imposing presence and her singing.
She is surely the most competent dancer among current singers,
or at least she doesn’t mind using this facet to round
out her singing performances. The shawls she comes on with
are stunning and her exotic looks complete the visuals. About
the singing… As is her custom, she begins with cantiñas
of Pinini, the ones that taste not of sea but of the interior,
and the lady dominates the most varied assortment of these
styles today. Guitarist Miguel Ángel Cortés
tunes down for siguiriyas, taking full advantage of the resulting
mysterious sound, but consumed with the desire to shine (he
is currently making his second solo record), his command is
excellent but the cante is not enhanced. Bulerías to
end up, and Esperanza takes care to insert some of Antonio
Mairena’s ‘greatest hits’, including the
minor-key cuplé “Dicen que van a temblar…”,
and “El pollito que piaba…” which is attributed
to Antonia Pozo from Lebrija, a town where Esperanza has family
ties.

Just under two months ago José Menese was unable,
for the first time, to perform at his town’s festival
as he was hospitalized in Madrid. So it’s good to see
him back in action, his voice slightly rough around the edges
but nothing serious. He said some words for maestro Antonio
Núñez ‘Chocolate’: “May the
Lord protect and keep him with all his duende”, and
then went on to sing a Mairena-style ‘romance’.
With tientos, the above-mentioned wish was granted and the
singer interpreted a varied assortment of styles without moving
into tangos. Antonio Carrión remains faithful to his
classic style for siguiriyas to finish, and Menese receives
applause that feels as much like moral support as appreciation
for his singing.

Intense and magical moments when
the flamenco chemistry reaches the boiling point

After a long tribute to the figure of Don Emilio Calderón
Álvarez, the majestic Manuela Carrasco appears, with
all the carriage of a high priestess announcing her arrival
and declaring the power of her artistic personality. There
may be better dancers these days, or perhaps not, but no other
flamenco dancer, male or female, has greater presence. She’s
brought a diluted assortment of performers compared to what
we saw in Lebrija not long ago – the fiesta dancer-singers
are missing, Torombo is missing, Tobala is superfluous –
and the format of solo spots for each component leads to a
few weak spots. Manuela by contrast is radiantly flamenco,
magnificent, majestic… The inclusion of guest artist Manuel
Molina is a grand inspiration. The singer-composer-guitarist
is still working the personality he invented for himself for
Farruquito’s show “Alma Vieja”, using the
guitar more as prop than musical instrument, half singing,
half reciting his own verses. It’s as though he possesses
some sort of wisdom we all need and which he generously dispenses
to Carrasco for a few intense and magical moments when the
flamenco chemistry reaches the boiling point. Manuela Carrasco’s
soleá is basically the same one she’s done for
the last twenty years, god bless her for it, and it continues
to evolve and keep fresh thanks to the efforts of three top
singers: Enrique el Extremeño, José Valencia
and Antonio Zúñiga (Juan Villar’s son).

It’s time Aurora Vargas’ talent be recognized.
“Just a festive singer”…”always the same
repertoire”…”off-tune”…”she just
sells her looks”. What is true, she’s everywhere
you go, I half expect to see her when I open the refrigerator
in the morning, but being in demand is no reason to underestimate
her…on the contrary. In the first place, Aurora never has
a bad day, she never lets you down. On this particular night,
her alegrías of Cádiz (where this Seville native
is much-admired), the soleá and tientos tangos that
are always included, go by in the usual competent manner.
But it’s in bulerías where she really unfolds.
With the complicity of the splendid guitarist Diego Amaya
– there’s a communication between the two that
approaches telepathy – Aurora constructs the house from
the bottom up, each time as if it were the first, never resorting
to easy repetitions. She has an innate sense of how to hold
the tension and the audience’s interest for long periods
which hasn’t been seen since Bambino strutted across
the best stages of Madrid in the sixties with his eloquent
gestures and swagger. Aurora is no great singer, nor is she
a great dancer. She’s a charismatic ‘festera’,
one of the four or five best in circulation today.

Aurora never has a bad day,
she never lets you down

Miguel Poveda con Chicuelo	José Menese en la ronda de tonás

It’s hard to know whether Miguel Poveda learned some
sort of lesson at the festival of La Puebla de Cazalla in
July where his most saccharine interpretations of so-called
“ida y vuelta” cante were coolly received. In
any case, here, in the birthplace of the man who did everything
possible to play down that type of singing, Poveda was dignified
and respectful. He continues to frolic in barely-whispered
melismas, a technique he has down pat, but he doesn’t
skimp with his full natural voice – in fact he seems
to have realized the emotive power of contrast. In the malagueñas
for example, he stopped the breath of a thousand spectators
with wispy threads of melody that could just barely be heard,
only to end with full-throated rondeñas using a straightforward
delivery. His specific talents are especially apt for cantiñas
which he always interprets with exquisite taste. He was less
focused for the siguiriyas, but noteworthy all the same for
the assortment of strictly classic styles he dominates. His
regular guitarist Chicuelo accompanied.

Just after five a.m. the last singer takes the stage. Calixto
Sánchez, honest and sincere, no flash or artistic aires…white
shirt, black trousers, Manolo Franco on the guitar, and with
each sung phrase we feel the affection this man has for the
cante. For the person who expects little, Calixto has warm,
profound moments devoid of extravagance of any kind, a welcome
trait in this era of false extravagance. Malagueñas,
tientos and a long series of old bulerías cuplé
– who said Calixto Sánchez can’t sing bulería?
His compás is fluid and natural, his phrasing convincing.
The audience demands an encore and the singer serves up some
fandangos before making way for the closing round of ‘tonás’
with the participation of all the solo singers of the night.

Standing at the exit after this well-rounded evening, an
informal eyeball survey shows the average age of the spectators
to be around fifty plus, and on the way home to Morón
I contemplate the importance of that piece of data.

More information:

Antonio Mairena
Special