Harmattan. Flamenco. Review. Seville

Harmattan

April 23rd, 2004
Teatro Alameda. Seville

Desert winds

The time has finally come to put an end to all the
speculation. Behind the scenes of “Harmattan”
there was a massive campaign that managed to create great
expectation. Six young performers share the stage offering
a fresh approach and a pleasant mixture of musical flavors
from different parts of the world. Experimentation in combining
flamenco with so-called “Andalusí” music,
that is, the Spanish-Arabic musical tradition, is nothing
new, but this encounter is surprising in the natural way the
forms get along and the perfect communication between the
musicians.

Photo: Ana Gallego

The show opens with a rumba and the risky business of a purely
instrumental program gets underway. Jallal Chekkara sends
out his Arabic lament, profoundly flamenco, and the violin
begins to sound as if each note were being improvised. A sensitive
siguiriya ensues and Daniel Méndez’ guitar cries
compassionately and expertly through modern-sounding compositions.
The melodies of this young man from Morón de la Frontera
go far beyond the standard. His guitar is sweet, clean, devoid
of deliberately showy technique which others would use to
over-adorn each moment. His brief interpretation with the
ud of Compás Nazarí was very well-received by
the audience.

A percussion solo gives Antonio Montiel and black dancer
Nicolia Morris the opportunity to show what they’re
capable of. Felipe Mato is overshadowed by the imposing presence
of Nicolia who steals the show with her racial contortions,
her gestures and arm movements, not to mention her boundless
sensuality and the strength of her footwork.

After ‘jaleos’ which Daniel interpreted in the
show Inmigración, David Palomar dared to sing a bolero,
perhaps inspired by Diego el Cigala’s and Bebo Valdes’
success. He did nothing out of the ordinary but the audience
reacted well…a slight difference of opinion. This was followed
by some magnificent tangos, soleá and the fiesta ending
with bulerías: Caliche, capota y alcayata. Charming
was Montiel’s little dance. A wealth of artistic sensibility…

Kiko
Valle.