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FLAMENCO IS THE WORLD'S MOST EXQUISITE DESSERT
Alfonso García
Antonio Núñez Montoya "El Chocolate" (Jerez, Cádiz,
1930) carries the essence of the most classic school of flamenco in his cante,
a kind of cante which expressed truths in all their primitiveness and where there
was no room for artifice or pretense.
At just nine years old he was already wandering around the bars of Seville's
Alameda de Hércules rubbing elbows with Mojama, El Gloria, Los Pavones,
Vallejo, Caracol... After a stint at Seville's Casino de la Exposición,
his professional career was a long string of appearances at festivals as well
as peñas, cultural centers and universities. Among other awards he received
the Premio "Pastora Pavón" at Córdoba's Concurso de Arte
Flamenco, the Premio Nacional de Cante de la Cátedra de Flamenco de Jerez
de la Frontera, the Giraldillo del Cante at Seville's fourth Bienal Flamenca,
the Taranto de Almería, and the recently awarded Premio "Ondas"
(October, 2001) for career achievement in flamenco.
His particular sound is raw and ancestral. When he sings, his image and
his voice penetrate listeners to the bone.
How
do you feel about the Premio "Ondas" you've been awarded?
I'm grateful, both for myself and for flamenco. Whenever this art is honored,
I'm full of pride, and if it's the kind of flamenco that I represent, all the
better. And I would like to make this clear with no trace of vanity.
What's it like to be awarded a prize at your age?
Just great. I think after a certain age you take everything a bit more calmly.
When you're young a prize might do more harm than good. In flamenco you have to
prove what you know in order to be someone, and at 71 I think I've accomplished
a great deal...and I'm not finished yet.
What memories have you of Seville in the thirties?
My artistic and personal initiation took place in Seville where I first arrived
when I was only six. Without a doubt it was very different then from now. There
was more street life, more communication between people, and particularly around
Triana and the Alameda, flamenco was an important element in discussions in the
bars and wherever people hung out. They would talk about the different ways of
singing of the most famous artists of the era like Vallejo, Marchena, Canalejas,
El Sevillano Tomás, Pastora...and many others. Each one would express his
opinion and frequently there were very heated exchanges. I also remember that
Triana and the Alameda made a point of being different: the people from Triana
were always very proud and seldom came to "Seville"; if you wanted to
hear them you had to cross the river, and they also made a big thing about not
ever catering to the 'señoritos', although that was only in the beginning,
and later on everything changed. The Alameda was something else. Outsiders always
congregated there.
Was
it always clear to you that you wanted to sing?
No. In the beginning, I liked football a lot and I managed to become a fairly
good player, but with flamenco I made my first salary and I soon forgot about
wanting to become a footfall-player. I remember when I was still very small, I
used to go to the "Puerta la Carne" and I would sing a few fandangos
there and afterwards I'd pass the hat and get five or six coins to get by. There's
always something that triggers our destiny, and for me it was the first thing
that brought in some money.
What were the famous "cuartos de juergas" [fiesta rooms] like?
You had to find a drunk with money and get him to give you something. Everything
would get under way when you'd see some guy drinking at the bar; you went up to
him, made friends and you sang something for him to see if he liked that. From
there, you'd move on to the back room with some girl who would join the party,
and with a thousand pesetas you could put together a great fiesta. It was tough,
but I was also younger and could handle it. Now young artists have it made and
are spared a lot of sacrifice. I don't know if that's good for cante flamenco.
Who were your first 'maestros'?
I started out singing fandangos and when I managed to get into a fiesta, that
was the only thing I could do, so I was very limited and didn't last long at the
gatherings. So I decided to learn other forms to be able to stay on and listen
to Tomás, Arturo, Caracol, Vallejo... I set my mind to it and did it -
that's how I started listening to these people who were true giants of this art,
and I was able to study the way they had of delivering or interpreting the cante.
They were my maestros because they were and are the be-all and the end-all of
cante flamenco. As far as I'm concerned, the Pavon family has been fundamental
in the history of this art. The way they had of vocalizing, linking and rounding
off, I don't think it's ever been bettered. Of course I like others as well.
Do
you remember the first time you were ever on stage?
The first time I ever set foot on a stage was in Melilla, but not singing.
I'll explain: I was hired to go with a group for four days, but after crossing
the strait I lost my voice and when I got there I couldn't sing, so in order to
earn my salary El Niño Azuaga decided I was to be an actor in a comic sketch
that was part of the show. I had to play a screaming insane person, so I ran around
the stage pulling at my hair and then slipped back into the wings. That was my
debut.
From then on I hit all of Spain's theaters, and many abroad as well. I've also
worked in tablaos; in Madrid's Corral de la Morería I alone sang for my
brother-in-law Farruco, but that wasn't for me and I soon gave it up. The best
thing in the world is a theater full of people and nothing on stage except you
and the guitarist; but a guitarist who knows how to give cante its due. That's
no easy task these days because most of them tend to go crazy with the guitar
and all they manage to do is annoy the singer. The beautiful thing is when a musical
conversation is maintained between the two. As far as I'm concerned the best of
all time was Manolo de Huelva. He was a very elegant guitarist and his 'llamadas'
were really classy. I haven't sung with other instruments. All I need is a good
guitar and "ole!". In compás.
Is there a difference between gypsies and non-gypsies as far as cante goes?
Just like between blacks and whites, it's a question of sounds and subtleties,
neither better nor worse, just different ways of feeling and expressing. It's
just as absurb to get involved in that debate as it is to talk about cante grande
and cante chico. It's clear that some cantes are easier than others, but the greater
or lesser worth depends on the artist. The only thing that's clear in this art,
as in any other, is that there has to be a communication between the singer and
the listener. When this occurs then the "duende" has appeared and everything
else is superfluous.
What do you think about today's flamenco panorama?
I'm very pessimistic because there is little communication between the artists.
We used to listen to each other and we learned a lot. Now you hear all about this
evolution like it's something new, when actually cante has always been evolving.
The important thing is to have a foundation, to have listened to the classics
and to get your own personality from them. Real or authentic flamenco will never
reach the masses, it will always be for special people who have a great sensibility.
In order to listen to good cante, you have to be patient. Real flamenco is always
new, what they call modern today will be old tomorrow. Alfredo Kraus used to say
that many people went to the opera to see, not to listen, and the same thing happens
in flamenco: first you have to have the sensibility, and then educate your ear.
What do you find lacking in today's young flamenco artists?
Flamenco feeling. You have to feel a lot to express and to communicate. I notice
they sing with very carefully studied technique, but empty on the inside, and
that's why there's little communication.
Would you ever be a teacher at a school for cante?
Of course. I would search for each one's special qualities and I would lead
the person down the most appropriate path, and also I would offer my experience
so they could draw their own conclusions. It would be a nice way of transmitting
my accumulated knowledge.
In the old days there were gatherings of knowledgeable people where young
artists could learn, or the families with a tradition of cante. What's the thing
to do now?
It would be a good thing if there could be "flamenco centers" where
youngsters could participate in talks and round table discussions with older people.
And of course, they have to do a lot of listening to the ones who know a lot about
this. The only alternative for those starting out is to saturate themselves with
recordings, and then you can always tell when they sing because they repeat everything
like parrots.
Tell me about this record you just made
This is a very thought-out work. I worked hard on it with the idea that it
had to grab the interest of both casual flamenco fans and professionals. I think
I'm at the right age to leave my flamenco heritage to future generations. I have
great faith in this record because it's pure and authentic, like the cante I feel.
After having seen so many different performance venues, where would you
like to sing that you've never been?
It would be a great honor for me to sing for the King and Queen of Spain, in
the Teatro Real. Although I would also like to sing for them in a small gathering
of friends and where I would offer them the world's most exquisite dessert: a
flamenco cante.
What would you ask for for Christmas this year?
Health to go on living. Strength to go on singing. Good fortune to continue
on my path. And freedom to speak my mind.
How would you like to be remembered?
As an honorable man and an artist who was always true to his art.
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