José Manuel León, flamenco guitarist. Interview

“A solo guitarist has to
seek out new ways”

Silvia Calado. Madrid, June 2006

The east wind blows. And José Manuel León’s guitar flies away. He comes from Algeciras, from where the maestro’s from, from that same school of discipline and rhythm. But the wind carries him further on, to a territory so personal that it sometimes creates complexes or scares or surprises or enamors. But if Gerardo Núñez and Carmen Linares have put their trust in what he offers, what is there to fear? The answer is ‘Sirimusa’, a new wind with the name of a mountain, a brave proposal in its release and independent attitude. And, at the same time, it is further fruit of ‘The New School of Flamenco Guitar’, that source which foretold of the impressive future of an instrument that is constantly soaring.

How did you decide to capture your music on a first album?

	José Manuel León (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Pablo Martín was the instigator. I’d already had my songs and my stuff for some time. The thing is that nobody had ever helped me. Talking to the record companies to offer them my music was an idea I didn’t like. Since Pablo put his trust in my stuff straight away, well then, I moved forward. And the truth is that he’s given me freedom, an absolute free hand to record what I’ve wanted to. I’ve had a lot of advantages. Then, if you get it right and people like it, then perfect. And if not, at least you’ve worked without any pressure of any kind, which is already a lot.

Would you prefer that freedom from an independent label to any possible imposition by a large record company?

I knew what songs I wanted and I knew how I wanted to record them and how I wanted them to sound. It was just a matter of finding someone to contribute some things, because Pablo has contributed a great deal, but from another point of view. I already knew the guitarist’s viewpoint since it was mine; they were my songs. He saw them more from the outside, with his influence from classical music. He’s been great. And he’s been a technician, he’s sat down and recorded, he’s provided his house, his studio, his money... God bless him!

Homemade but professional, isn’t it?

Definitely. No means were missing, or better microphones or anything. It sounds really natural. Afterwards, the percussions and clapping were recorded in Sanlúcar, at José Miguel Évora’s studio La Calle de la Luz. And the truth is that we were treated wonderfully.

What was the recording process like?

Really simple. Pablo would call me up and ask me if such-and-such a day was OK for me. I’d go, record a song, and depending on how it went, we’d call up the collaborators. It was that natural. We hadn’t previously planned to call such-and-such a musician. No, we’re going to cut the crap and we’re going to play ourselves, which is what we’ve been waiting for for six years. In “we”, I include contrabassist Martín García, who I have a lot of musical influences from because he’s one of the best musicians I know in Madrid, amazing. And we’ve learned a lot from each other. Since there’s a lot of trust and we tell each other everything, we’ve always reached a consensus really easily.

What’s the listener going to find on ‘Sirimusa’?

I think, first and foremost, it has energy. We’re really devoted. I hope that at least they find something different, that they listen to a flamenco guitarist, but he doesn’t do the same old thing. Not such dense songs... well, mine are dense but a little more open. You can’t set out to do the best taranta in the world because the best taranta in the world’s already been done by Paco de Lucía in ‘Fuente y caudal’. Nor does it make sense to set an aim and if I don’t reach it, I die. If not, you go crazy. It’s a question of bringing out what you have and if you have another way of seeing it, great. If you go that way it’s really hard, unfortunately. A solo guitarist has to seek out new ways because if not, I think the circle closes a lot. The ones who are there are there, and they’re more than justified.

José Manuel León (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Aren’t you afraid that the more traditional listener will be shocked by what you do?

Yeah. It’s a fear I’ve had for many years now. With my way of composing and playing when I used to go to the peñas in the province of Cádiz to play... oh, what reactions, how harsh. When I played por taranta or por soleá and brought out my stuff, people used to go cold. It perturbed them. But I felt like also showing what I do. If you like it, OK, and if you don’t, the same. There’s no other way. You have to make it easy for people; that’s what Gerardo Núñez used to tell me and rightly so, within everyone’s musical paranoia. I myself feel, if I go and see a concert that’s too dense, that they’re making it hard. You have to make it easier for them, but as far as the rest goes, you have to put your faith in what you do. People can tell if you don’t believe in what you do, if you come out and play and you’re more interested in their reaction.

Your album, like that of other colleagues of yours, shows that new ways are being opened up. Where are things leading?

Paco de Lucía’s is still lasting. There’s him, his stuff, his way and you have to draw from his source, but not to the point of wanting to imitate him technically because you can’t, because he has his gift and he’s unique. And there are guitarists who are important pillars who have made their contribution, but the one who’s laid down the rules is Paco. And he’s still the one because he brings out an album and he goes like that, and everybody’s mellow and listens and... If you get a little bit away from that, it’s easier. And that’s so even though he’s from my region.

And is there a trait which identifies guitarists from Algeciras?

Frankly, I think there is a style. There’s José María Bandera, José Carlos Gómez and Salvador Andrades, my father, who’s the one who taught me and is completely from Paco’s school. The one who taught him was Paco’s father, Antonio Sánchez. That strictness when studying, that discipline with the rhythm... I think it comes from there. Rhythmically, I think it’s the best thing the Algeciras school has. When composing too, but with the rhythm Paco’s really strong; it’s what impresses me the most. And there’s something there... It must be the wind coming in from the east.

Gerardo Núñez presented you in ‘The New School of Flamenco Guitar’. What did being a part of that project do for you?

It made people know me. I got the chance, through Gerardo, to reach people. That’s been amazing for me. And then his involvement in the project. He’s the only one who’s done it. The people who recorded on this album were doing some things, but it was a chance to record with a company like the German ACT, which distributes its records in a lot of places. As promotion, it was great.

As a young guitarist, do you miss the involvement of those already consolidated artists?

Well, yes. On top of it, there are certain comments in the press by the greats which I can’t understand. I’m not going to get into it. It shouldn’t be like that, and less so when distinctions of race even start to be made. There shouldn’t be such a big fuss over one thing or the other. The only thing that should matter is the union and what each contributes. Gerardo Núñez has been the only one. He’s been really intelligent because he knows that it’s very hard to move forward. He laid his stakes and things are already flourishing: Jesús de Rosario’s album came out, now mine’s come out...

Has Gerardo left a mark on you, musically speaking?

Well, he’s taught me more about the outside, about what the flamenco world is, than about music. And it isn’t because he doesn’t have anything to teach me; he has a great deal. The thing is that since our way of playing is so different... And he knows it. I remember an anecdote which happened to me with him when he called me up to play with Carmen Linares at the Teatro Real (Royal Theater). I met him at his house to play and I didn’t know him at all; I’d seen him three times. We started rehearsing and he played some falsetas for me from one record, from another... “Have you listened to it?”. And out of embarrassment, I told him I had. And I hadn’t listened to hardly anything by him because my father is really hard-headed; to him there’s just Paco de Lucía and Cañizares. And of course, that’s what I’d grown up on. He had ‘El gallo azul’ and was listening to it, but since I’d come from another story which had nothing to do with it, oh well. A while later, I grabbed him and confessed to him that I hadn’t listened to anything. And he told me that he already knew, that of course he could tell. Ha ha ha ha. But there’s been really good vibes with him.

And on doing ‘Un ramito de locura’ live, you even personalize the compositions he did for that album...

I change a few little things. He’s given me absolute freedom. Every time I’ve worked with him, he’s told me to do whatever I want. Since he plays so much, he doesn’t worry about what others do. He’s got more than enough with his own stuff. I have a really good time every time I go with him.

	José Manuel León with Carmen Linares (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Accompanying Carmen Linares has been your main activity over the past few years. How have you faced such a responsibility?

Well, at first it was a little hard because there’s a generation gap, but she’s really open to other things. I’ve had to adapt to her, ‘you betcha’, as it should be. I had a bit of a complex. She’s always been accompanied by guitarists like Paco Cortés and Miguel Ángel Cortés, who are people who accompany cante really well and have a style quite ‘subordinate’ to cante, so to speak. Due to my way of playing, I don’t yield so much to cante, so something middle-of-the-road has to be found. For example, playing por taranta with her, you discover where my stuff was going, since it’s really deep. You can use your resources and your way of seeing it, but until you manage to adapt it for it to work well with her, it has to be really developed. Right now we’re working great.

What does ‘the lady’s’ cante say to you?

She’s very sober, she carries a lot of weight; it means a lot of responsibility because when she opens her mouth... you have to give her the right chord. What she and her husband, Miguel Espín, have given me is unbelievably good energy. On the album there’s a thank-you note to them, because they always give really good vibes. Everything’s always great; there’s just good vibes, sincerity and a lot of coherence. That’s why she is where she is after so many years of work. Imagine how much they must have messed with her even with the question of race... And nowadays she’s the sovereign; everyone has to admit it.