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SEVILLE'S BIENAL DE FLAMENCO
2002. ENRIQUE MORENTE
Creative deity
Silvia Calado Olivo. Seville, October 1, 2002
Photos: Javier Hurtado
Enrique Morente in concert. Cante: Enrique Morente.
Guitars: Manuel Parrilla, Niño Josele. Percussion: Mandolin, Ramón
Porrina. Chorus and palmas: Rafael Jiménez Falo, Ángel Gavarre.
Teatro de la Maestranza. Seville, October 1st, 2002. 9:00 p.m.
Creativity has a name. Enrique Morente is the creator. No other mind sings
reinventing each second. No other throat is reborn with each breath. No one else's
singing is a trip into the unknown...with a point of departure and destination
unknown. Enrique Morente, the creator, digs around in potential sources of inspiration:
poets. Lorca. San Juan de la Cruz. Alberti. Even closer to home: in folk music,
in flamenco. And based on everything, and based on himself, he constructs. A creative
deity who serves up his work to mortals...from an olympic arena: the Teatro de
la Maestranza de Sevilla.
Enrique Morente and Niño Josele
Wise the creator, he began at ground level. Taking the sure route, clinging
to the low tones, whispering, the caña. The iii in a new way. Then he felt
like some cantiñas, Niño Josele at the forefront, delicate descent.
"Si mi voz muriera en tierra" ['If my voice were to die on
earth'], the 'titirimundis', a chorus softly singing 'tiritrán'
in the background to end. A star, the dawn and the soleá cheer. Listen
to them and be inspired, it's time for tientos. You raise up your voice and paint
melodies. And the 'oles' are for the closing, never sufficiently appreciated.
The group backs you up in the tangos ending, just marking. You can see the amount
of work it took. The guitar cries, sounding of Lorca, Niño Josele approves.
Cabales. An image of interlocking spirals. Alone with the guitar from Almería,
that seduces as much as it extinguishes, coming through the narrow tunnel. Taranta.
Nosedives, dramatic launches. The risk slips. Bulerías with the SEGUIRIYAS.
Divine. Zeus, Dionysus, Apollo...partying. The clean, soaring climbs, without
tremolo or limits, the fragrant drawing in of the eternal lament. Oh God, we are
but mere mortals. Give us some respite...and on the way back, remind us of songs
of religious pilgrimage, make mysticism known unto us. Show us how to sing the
same verse in a thousand different ways. Surprise us again and again and again.
'Super flumina babilonis'. Upon the waves of your thinking vocal chords,
your singer's mind. The Morente musical lament. Borrow from your daughter that
which you lent her. Tangos. And the yellow flowers of the unilaterally announced
finale which no one wanted to come. Give us more. A premiere: a bohemian bulerías
song that crosses oceans. We keep coming and going...fortunately. The deity seeks
silence. Surround him chorus members, palmeros, percussionists. A round of tonás,
give him the tone and sing effortlessly. "No te rebeles", the
silence soaks it up. Enrique Morente, the creative deity.
Enrique Morente
revista@flamenco-world.com
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