Dani de Morón in the series “Cine para Guitarra” in Seville

Dani de Morón

Dani de Morón

Text: Sara Arguijo
Photos: Adam Newby

Dani de Morón puts music to “Un perro andaluz” of Luis Buñuel in the Seville guitar festival.

Flamenco guitar: Dani de Morón. Palmas: Antonio & Manuel Montes Saavedra ‘Los Mellis’. Original idea and staging: Royds Fuentes-Imbert. Festival director: Francisco Bernier. Series: ‘Cine para Guitarra’. Festival de la Guitarra de Sevilla. Film: ‘Un Perro andaluz’, of Luis Buñuel. Sala Joaquín Turina. Wednesday, October 21st, 2015. Attendance: Nearly full.

DANI DE MORÓN, BIT BY BIT

It just so happened that Dani de Morón's Wednesday performance, within the series “Cine para Guitarra” of the Festival de la Guitarra de Sevilla, took place in the future announcing Robert Zemeckis legendary movie.  On October 21st, 2015, without the help of aeroskates, we were able to fly to the dreamlike universe Luis Buñuel left for posterity in “Un Perro Andaluz”.  In other words, the work of the Morón guitarist was to put music, “not a soundtrack” he clarifies, to this visual poem from 1929 which is, without a doubt, one of the key films of surrealism.  Twenty-one minutes in which Buñuel breaks with any sort of established narrative plan to concentrate on obsessions and deliriums (shared in the script with Salvador Dalí), and which we have now been able to recuperate from the point of view of the guitarist's angst, a travel through time.

In this way, the musician got into who-knows-what chords from Argentine tangos, farruca and malagueña, breaking the rhythm into pieces, just as the filmmaker did with his film.  An “experiment” in which Dani played with the accents and silences to make us feel all the more uncomfortable, if that was even possible.  So we saw the razor that severed the eye by the light of an even fuller moon, more terror in the car accident, more filthy the man who frenetically carresses the leading lady's breasts, more meaning in the ants that sprout from a hand, more melancholy…

Afterwards, the end of Buñuel's short, and the beginning of Dani.  The guitarist took advantage to give free rein to his most recent repertoire and, with the always excellent accompaniment of the Mellis keeping rhythm, he laid out his own dream.  The guitarist tirelessly searched for, and played at building and deconstructing new harmonies, at times seeming to find the neck of the guitar too limited.   It's clear this winner of the Giraldillo for guitar of the 2012 Bienal, can just as easily provoke, as invite the listener to close his eyes and find peace, because Dani is flamenco and he follows the paths this takes him down.

 

 

 


Salir de la versión móvil