Vicente Amigo, flamenco guitarist. Interview
“Sometimes I can’t
stand the
pressure I put on myself”
Silvia Calado. Madrid, May 2009
Translation: Joseph Kopec
There’s more music than words
in this interview. Vicente
Amigo is in an assembly hall at a hotel in downtown
Madrid attending to one journalist after another. Perhaps
to make the intense day of promotion more bearable, perhaps
to feel accompanied, he has his guitar in his hands the
whole time. With two voices, they say that this ‘Paseo
de Gracia’ is an album on which he has set himself
the challenge of singing with his instrument. The guitar
rewards his effort by helping him answer one question after
another. And the thing is that these are not easy times
for the Córdoba-born musician. The recording has
been affected by illness and by the subsequent dejection.
But the cure and optimism have come with the album. And
he is satisfied with the work and the discoveries, with
those “interesting details” cropping up amidst
the collaborating voices of Niña Pastori, Enrique
Morente, Alejandro Sanz, Estrella Morente… and those
of his faithful travel mates. It was thus more bearable
to look at himself in the mirror once again and wonder:
“What’s up, Doc?”.
And at that moment, the reflection was
fogged up by a health problem. A back injury caused by the
self-sacrificing posture which he has embraced the guitar
with all his life. And he needed an operation. Vicente Amigo
explains it in full detail and with a bit of humor at the
start of the conversation: “I had a disc hernia operation
a month ago, of the L5… MP3, as I’ve dubbed
it. I’d been dragging it along for five or six years,
but it got worse with a fall. I’d been treating myself
with ozone, with epidural and in the end I could no longer
play, or go out, or straighten up. And I had the operation
and the pain went away”. He went through fear, he
went through pain … and now he’s active again:
“Following the two week’s rest which I carried
out to the letter, as soon as I’d recovered a little
and was able to pick up the guitar … now I’m
in the same dynamics again”.
Then, all of that has interfered
with the album?
Yes, during the recording I had a terrible
time with my back. Besides that, the recording was split
in half because I moved to another house. The guitars were
already done; thank God. And I had to go to Lauren’s
(Serrano) studio, my technician… All of this cuts
you off. I’d gotten used to recording at my house,
in my studio; everything flowed better. Moreover, I was
in low spirits for a spell, since everything is heightened.
I didn’t even feel like playing, but this demand you
yourself put in your mind, the matter of having to be better
and better… And a time comes when you forget that
you’re a human being. The hell with it all! We should
get that into our heads, because you go crazy. There are
times you can’t stand that pressure you put on yourself.
You become your worst enemy.
Even so, ‘Paseo
de Gracia’ has gotten by…
The album has taken a little longer, but there it is. I
think it’s nice and it has some melodies, some ways
of expression and some interesting development of harmonies.
There are interesting details on this record.
At first sight, you get the impression
that it’s less concentrated or perhaps more relaxed
than ‘Un momento en el sonido’…
At first sight. It has a lot of my way.
But it’s true that it approaches pop. There are some
songs which are like I want to approach that world, perhaps
in order to open myself up a little to other people. But
it’s because that search was inside of me. Many times
an idea comes out and it might not be flamenco as such,
but I’m going to express it as flamenco, because I
don’t think I know how to express it any other way…
or shall we say, you can see through me. I didn’t
want to censor myself; I wanted to do it and it seems honest
to me and also brave. This is a melody, for example…
(and he plays it) It isn’t flamenco, but
it’s really interesting.
The album is quite catchy…
Is it? The truth is that I always want
the music to form a part of you, for it to be the same as
if you’ve made it yourself. And by this I don’t
mean that I make music thinking of others; I make it searching
inside of me. I seek the most interesting forms. Making
an album is like looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering:
what’s up, Doc? You look at yourself and you see the
little wrinkles, the pimples… but you have to remove
all those superfluous things and look at the nicer things
you have inside.
And what you’ve found are
melodies, above all else. Is it true that you’ve set
yourself the challenge of singing with the guitar?
Of course I have. If you realize it, songs
with collaborations like that of Niña Pastori is
like a challenge of me singing what she’s singing
as she goes along (and he hums it and plays it).
To play them, I have to sing it even if it’s bare-stringed…
And the guitar has what it has, you have to make the guitar
be like an organ in your body, like your throat. And in
that sense it’s a flamenco challenge, because cante
is the mother.
Are you one of those guitarists
who feel like frustrated cantaores?
No! I have enough frustration as a guitarist
to want to be a cantaor on top of it. I do have that restlessness,
and I’m more and more of a cante enthusiast. I like
it, I like it. I consider it a way of expressing what you
have inside which is totally direct.
The voices of Rafael
de Utrera and Miguel
Ortega are heard…
They’re my fellow sufferers when
I go out there. When I started recording they told me to
count on them for whatever I wanted and I held them to their
word. There’s a bulería for each of them, and
Nani Cortés and Lin Cortés also collaborate,
who are two siblings who sing really well; each of them
is phenomenal in their tessitura. I’m happy with those
collaborations… and with the others, of course. I
don’t do without Tino
di Geraldo while I can; I don’t surrender.
The accompaniment smacks of a group.
Was it your idea for it to sound like that?
Yes, but in reality when I began the album,
I didn’t know where it was going. I prefer to get
in there and… The hardest part of an album might be
getting started, until you get halfway through it you don’t
start to see that it’s taking shape. You then come
up a little bit. An album is still a little agonizing until
you see it completely (and he does some strumming, and
another melody …).
This interview-concert is knocking
me out. I don’t even know what I wanted to ask you
any more... Ah yes, as special collaborations there’s
that of Niña Pastori. Was it in return for yours
on her
album?
Niña Pastori has sung fabulously.
I didn’t want to charge her for that; far from it.
It’s sharing, all those collaborations mean that to
me; sharing music which comes out of me with them and also
making it yours in the end. Even if it belongs to the one
who’s listening. Niña Pastori is marvelous
there. Enrique
Morente is superb. ‘Autorretrato’ is a very
serious song and it needed a voice with that experience
and that weight. Then I think the song with Alejandro Sanz
from a flamenco’s perspective is a track which really
approaches pop. I remember Enrique saying that Alejandro
sang more flamenco than ever there. And Pedro el Granaíno
also sings… I think that song has turned out really
well.
And at the end, Estrella
Morente…
Estrella’s is a jewel; they’re
very flamenco tangos. That song is really curious. I was
going to invite Estrella to Alejandro’s song for her
to share it with him, but it didn’t suit her with
regards to the tessitura. If she had to sing high it was
too high and if she sang low, it didn’t suit her either.
I wanted her to be up to scratch as what she is. I named
it after her, for she’s the star shining in Granada
and wherever she goes. Enrique told me that if I didn’t
have anything else around, to look for something. And he
thought those tangos were great for her… which I had
tucked away for the following album. The truth is that it’s
turned out really nice. I was going to tell you that I sing
the melody for her (of course, he plays it), that
I have to sing it, too. I accompanied her because today
we do have the means to be able to do that; God only knows
if some other day I’m going to be able to count on
each of them with their busy agendas. She did those lyrics,
she did the others, those of the caramel lips, two or three
other sets, and afterwards I did the song in terms of that.
And it’s turned out… It’s also interesting
to work like that, really freely besides (…and
he goes on playing).
How is it that you pick up the
electric guitar?
| |
“With
the electric guitar I try to like put myself in the
shoes of a jazz guitarist or something like that,
with respect, of course” |
| |
As they say, I flirt around there. “You’ve
flirted around with the electric guitar”. Oh yes,
I kiss it a little, ha ha ha. That’s a musician’s
little fling. We were at the studio and Lauren, my technician,
had some guitars which belong to his brother. And I tried
out a different sound at a given turn. And I see it as honest,
too; I think it went in agreement with what I was feeling.
May electric guitarists forgive me, but times are really
tough; they can tell it to the company… Ha ha
ha. And it isn’t just the sound there, but rather
what I play is a little bit other stuff which isn’t
my thing. I try to like put myself in the shoes of a jazz
guitarist or something like that, with respect, of course.
I said: I’m going to take the plunge and see what
happens. It puts you in a different tessitura (he keeps
on playing and at the finish I take advantage to ask the
last question).
The tour is already starting. What
are the live shows going to be like?
I’m going to stick in the songs little
by little, I’m going to try them out. I’m going
to play with my group. Alexis
(Lefèvre) is going to come on some occasions;
he’s a great musician, he has a lot of heart, I like
him. And Miguel Ortega and Rafael de Utrera will come; sometimes
both of them and others, just one. And then, Patricio and
José Manuel, who are musicians who have always come
with me.
And will there be any surprises
with the guests on the album?
I don’t think so; it’s complicated.
The truth is that these aren’t times for surprises.
And with that acid phrase, the recorder
is turned off. There at the back of the hall, seated on
the fluffy dark green leather armchair, Vicente Amigo remains
alone with his guitar, talking to one another…