A special night for fans of traditional
flamenco, with two very different, but compatible perspectives.
Matilde
Coral, Chano Lobato and Juan Habichuela have two hundred and
fourteen years of collective experience between them, and
in this show they revel more in their seniority than in their
art as such. Raise your hand anyone who would deny them that
privilege, because aside from racking up years, something
anyone can do without even trying, their era had nothing to
do with the way stars are cooked up overnight in publicity
agent's offices nowadays. They traveled the low road, living
through the most primitive conditions when there were no mega-salaries
for flamenco artists, and these people are true flamenco laborers.
Never was the trite phrase «for the love of art»
more appropriate.
Chano Lobato & Matilde Coral
Therefore all unsentimental realists, those who would not
be moved by the image of Matilde Coral's face knotted up to
hold back the tears as she embraces Chano after he sings his
alegrías de Cádiz for her, had best take their
leave. Also strongly advised to abstain, all those who would
not enjoy the wise, rock-solid Granada sound of guitarist
Juan Habichuela nor of course the delightful bulerías
steps of this man who started out as a dancer over a half-century
ago.
«This isn't the cathedral of cante like they say…it's
the whole darned Vatican!» That Chano with his Cádiz
wit. Then a verse about «Los 4 Juanes» [the 4 Juans]
so well-known in Granada: Juan el Habichuela, Juan Maya Marote,
Juan el Ovejilla and Juanillo el Gitano. Chano sings tangos
squeezing a fandango in the same compás when no one's
looking, and Habichuela's guitar sketches memories of Sacromonte
where he spent so many years. «This one here's four-star
general of the guitar» says Chano acting as spokesman
and pointing to Habichuela, the most reticent of the three
but no less delighted if the Cheshire cat grin on his face
is any indication.
Chano Lobato
Juan Habichuela
You hear so much about the rivalry between flamenco towns,
but in the end the best of Seville, Granada and Cádiz
have been brought together here by the passing of time. «We're
dancing, singing and playing on doctor's orders!» exclaims
Matilde, and one thousand five hundred members of the congregation
chuckle delightedly at the trio's spontaneity as they trade
off anecdotes, one-liners, little songs and dances, everything
«little» because there's no longer any need to keep
up with the young hotshots, and flamenco flows from these
people as effortlessly as breathing. Soleá, fandangos
de Huelva, bulerías with…what's that?…classic cartageneras
to bulerías?… «This is La Unión honey!»
Chano tells Matilde after she scolds him for mixing styles
so brazenly. Tanguillos de Cádiz with colombiana slipped
in God knows how, bulerías finale, tears, embraces,
sincere heartfelt applause. «We came to give a little
taste of the past to the young folk»…you bet, Matilde…
After intermission we return to our seats and to the present
with the group of Catalonian singer Miguel Poveda. But young
Poveda learned his lessons long ago and his singing is full
of echoes of the past: Caracol, Marchena, Aurelio, Talega,
El Gloria…all the classics traipse through his experienced
vocal chords. He has an excellent backup, most notably his
regular guitarist and fellow Catalonian, Juan Gómez
'Chicuelo', another young artist who has always been looking
over his shoulder to the past before embracing the so-called
«new tendencies» which he knows how to apply with
such good taste.
Poveda comes on stage dressed as if for his first communion,
in dazzling white. Luis el Zambo once said that Miguel Poveda
«delivers Cádiz cante like a native 'gaditano',
Jerez cante like someone from Jerez and mining cante just
like a native of the Levante», no small compliment for
a Catalonian, and no exaggeration as the young singer demonstrated
with the alegrías and cantiñas he used to open.
Nevertheless Poveda is relatively little-known among flamenco-followers
in Andalusia, in stark contrast to La Unión where the
coveted Lámpara Minera he won in 1993 at the age of
twenty was one of the most acclaimed in the history of the
festival.
Miguel Poveda
Sonia Poveda
«My entire performance tonight is dedicated to the maestro
Pencho Cros who taught me to sing mineras…I'm thrilled
to return to my second hometown which is La Unión»
announces Miguel, and he sounds completely sincere. A set
of malagueñas sung with extraordinary sensibility if
perhaps a slight excess of histrionic gestures reminiscent
of Caracol. A siguiriyas 'hit parade' with such classics as
«A clavito y canela…», «Mi hermana Alejandra…»…the
young man clearly studies hard, but he never forgets to inject
his own personality. Fandangos del Gloria among others, a
long bulerías set «a palo seco», a capella,
very flamenco, very solid. «Era catalana y se llamaba
Carmen…», the popular classic slightly, mischievously
altered to suit the circumstances.
The pace slows considerably with the singer's sister, dancer
Sonia Poveda, who bears a striking resemblance to her brother.
She offers a taranto…correct and well-executed, but lengthy
and academic, as so often happens these days. Her dance doesn't
come together and she fails to communicate, but receives the
audience's reprieve, presumably in deference to her brother's
status in these parts.
At the audience's insistance the performance is wrapped up
with bulerías, with the participation of singers El
Londro and Encarnita Anillo, and we leave the market cum cathedral
to stake out a place by the entrance steps where Rocío
Díaz is to sing accompanied by Pedro Sierra. And this
is only the second day….
A special night for fans of traditional
flamenco, with two very different, but compatible perspectives.
Matilde
Coral, Chano Lobato and Juan Habichuela have two hundred and
fourteen years of collective experience between them, and
in this show they revel more in their seniority than in their
art as such. Raise your hand anyone who would deny them that
privilege, because aside from racking up years, something
anyone can do without even trying, their era had nothing to
do with the way stars are cooked up overnight in publicity
agent's offices nowadays. They traveled the low road, living
through the most primitive conditions when there were no mega-salaries
for flamenco artists, and these people are true flamenco laborers.
Never was the trite phrase «for the love of art»
more appropriate.
Chano Lobato & Matilde Coral
Therefore all unsentimental realists, those who would not
be moved by the image of Matilde Coral's face knotted up to
hold back the tears as she embraces Chano after he sings his
alegrías de Cádiz for her, had best take their
leave. Also strongly advised to abstain, all those who would
not enjoy the wise, rock-solid Granada sound of guitarist
Juan Habichuela nor of course the delightful bulerías
steps of this man who started out as a dancer over a half-century
ago.
«This isn't the cathedral of cante like they say…it's
the whole darned Vatican!» That Chano with his Cádiz
wit. Then a verse about «Los 4 Juanes» [the 4 Juans]
so well-known in Granada: Juan el Habichuela, Juan Maya Marote,
Juan el Ovejilla and Juanillo el Gitano. Chano sings tangos
squeezing a fandango in the same compás when no one's
looking, and Habichuela's guitar sketches memories of Sacromonte
where he spent so many years. «This one here's four-star
general of the guitar» says Chano acting as spokesman
and pointing to Habichuela, the most reticent of the three
but no less delighted if the Cheshire cat grin on his face
is any indication.
Chano Lobato
Juan Habichuela
You hear so much about the rivalry between flamenco towns,
but in the end the best of Seville, Granada and Cádiz
have been brought together here by the passing of time. «We're
dancing, singing and playing on doctor's orders!» exclaims
Matilde, and one thousand five hundred members of the congregation
chuckle delightedly at the trio's spontaneity as they trade
off anecdotes, one-liners, little songs and dances, everything
«little» because there's no longer any need to keep
up with the young hotshots, and flamenco flows from these
people as effortlessly as breathing. Soleá, fandangos
de Huelva, bulerías with…what's that?…classic cartageneras
to bulerías?… «This is La Unión honey!»
Chano tells Matilde after she scolds him for mixing styles
so brazenly. Tanguillos de Cádiz with colombiana slipped
in God knows how, bulerías finale, tears, embraces,
sincere heartfelt applause. «We came to give a little
taste of the past to the young folk»…you bet, Matilde…
After intermission we return to our seats and to the present
with the group of Catalonian singer Miguel Poveda. But young
Poveda learned his lessons long ago and his singing is full
of echoes of the past: Caracol, Marchena, Aurelio, Talega,
El Gloria…all the classics traipse through his experienced
vocal chords. He has an excellent backup, most notably his
regular guitarist and fellow Catalonian, Juan Gómez
'Chicuelo', another young artist who has always been looking
over his shoulder to the past before embracing the so-called
«new tendencies» which he knows how to apply with
such good taste.
Poveda comes on stage dressed as if for his first communion,
in dazzling white. Luis el Zambo once said that Miguel Poveda
«delivers Cádiz cante like a native 'gaditano',
Jerez cante like someone from Jerez and mining cante just
like a native of the Levante», no small compliment for
a Catalonian, and no exaggeration as the young singer demonstrated
with the alegrías and cantiñas he used to open.
Nevertheless Poveda is relatively little-known among flamenco-followers
in Andalusia, in stark contrast to La Unión where the
coveted Lámpara Minera he won in 1993 at the age of
twenty was one of the most acclaimed in the history of the
festival.
Miguel Poveda
Sonia Poveda
«My entire performance tonight is dedicated to the maestro
Pencho Cros who taught me to sing mineras…I'm thrilled
to return to my second hometown which is La Unión»
announces Miguel, and he sounds completely sincere. A set
of malagueñas sung with extraordinary sensibility if
perhaps a slight excess of histrionic gestures reminiscent
of Caracol. A siguiriyas 'hit parade' with such classics as
«A clavito y canela…», «Mi hermana Alejandra…»…the
young man clearly studies hard, but he never forgets to inject
his own personality. Fandangos del Gloria among others, a
long bulerías set «a palo seco», a capella,
very flamenco, very solid. «Era catalana y se llamaba
Carmen…», the popular classic slightly, mischievously
altered to suit the circumstances.
The pace slows considerably with the singer's sister, dancer
Sonia Poveda, who bears a striking resemblance to her brother.
She offers a taranto…correct and well-executed, but lengthy
and academic, as so often happens these days. Her dance doesn't
come together and she fails to communicate, but receives the
audience's reprieve, presumably in deference to her brother's
status in these parts.
At the audience's insistance the performance is wrapped up
with bulerías, with the participation of singers El
Londro and Encarnita Anillo, and we leave the market cum cathedral
to stake out a place by the entrance steps where Rocío
Díaz is to sing accompanied by Pedro Sierra. And this
is only the second day….
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