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VI FESTIVAL
DE JEREZ
MAYTE MARTÍN + BELÉN MAYA
Mayte
multiplied by Belén
Silvia
Calado Olivo. Jerez, March 8th, 2002
Mayte Martín: cante. Belén
Maya: dance. Juan Ramón Caro, José Luis Montón: guitar. Olvido
Lanza: violin. Susana Medina, Ana Real: palmas. Teatro Villamarta. Jerez de la
Frontera (Cádiz), March 8th, 2002. 9:00 p.m..
Since applause to the rhythm of bulerías
at the Villamarta is no longer synonymous with a job well done, the fact that
Mayte Martín and Belén Maya had three curtain calls at the Jerez
theater was certainly indicative of something...even more so when you consider
the high percentage of professionals that filled the space. From 'Mayte Martín
+ Belén Maya' to Mayte 'times' Belén. The formula turned into multiplication,
because it wasn't two people alongside each other, but rather joined together
and elevated to the highest output (sound technicians allowing) above all of music,
and incidentally of flamenco...the real kind.
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Belén Maya and Olvido Lanza
(Photo: Daniel Muñoz)
Belén Maya
(Photo: Daniel Muñoz)
Mayte Martín and Juan Ramón Caro
(Photo: Daniel Muñoz)
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They came on quoting la Niña de los Peines, taking on the darkest challenge.
Belén in red and black, bata de cola and mantón...petenera. Total
silence, total woman, every bit of her... A violin sings. Mayte takes up where
the bow leaves off, assured, perfect. Belén's arms. Introspection.
Cante solo. With the vidalita "forever dedicated
to Juan Valderrama", the Catalonian singer today also wants to pay tribute
to "the grande dame of flamenco dancing, Matilde Coral". Steeped in
her record, always delicate, sweet, internalized. Juan Ramón Caro's strings
provide a backup which harks to the past...he listens to the cante, he answers
it, but with the same level of delicacy, sweetness, internalization. Always the
accompanist. "Sereno que viene el díaaaaaa". Malagueña
and fandangos abandolaos. Enriched with respect to the recording, with other verses,
other melodic work, other vocal embellishments. Growing, growing...
The Tarara. Lanza and Maya. Windmills and vanes.
Arms and hands...harboring melodies. Body, dance, opening. The first footwork
of the night. A little singing, a lot of music and dancing. Fortunately not only
flamenco. Bareness. Four to six hands to bring up the chosen ascent. "Tiene
mi Tarara un vestido blanco". Guitar. Alone. José Luis Montón...when
feeling and harmony become one and move in slow motion and are water and glass.
From one to seven.
Everyone on stage for alegrías. Up, down, and all around, Belén
Maya. Emerald-green bata de cola. The culminating moment of 'Elogio a la bata
de cola'...she is neither Seville style, nor academic, nor constricted. She is
grace and enjoyment, natural complicity. She is wisdom and freshness. And adaggio
to violin. She is female and flamenco. When she does her deep turns, and shows
off for the singer, when she exhibits her virtuosity (in smartly measured doses),
when she makes time stand still with her bata suspended in mid-air, with those
poses that are so characteristic of her. Not strident at all, but all music. She
acknowledges and bows. And that was it.
Cante solo. Now is Mayte's moment. Toná. The
compás only audible from deep inside. She opens and closes her throat,
go up and pull back. A change of pace away from the microphone, softly. Pick it
up again, take your time...let them twist and squirm and suffer those who go on
about Torre and Mairena. You really know.
And now squarely in the depths, sing seguiriya and
call out your dancer, she's coming out flame-colored in a wicker seat. Now sedate,
unsmiling. Move Mayte's echo, dissolve it with your windmill's vanes. Silence
and music and Montón filling out. 'Ole' for the cyclical structure, 'ole',
for not falling into the tedious routine of a fiesta ending. Silence and music
and multiplication, not addition.
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