|
SEVILLE'S BIENAL DE FLAMENCO
2002. ESTRELLA MORENTE
Sweet trilling, arrhythmia, Spanish pop
Silvia Calado Olivo. Seville, October 6th, 2002
Photos: Javier Hurtado
'Mestizaje'. Estrella Morente: cante. Alfredo Lagos,
Miguel Ochando: guitar. Ramón Porrina, Bandolero: percussion. Auditorium.
Seville, October 10th, 2002. 10:30 p.m.
When Estrella Morente intoned the first notes, the audience began to put aside
its irritation. Forty minutes late, waiting outside, officially justified by the
derby... The girl from Granada came on in a short dress singing Spanish pop and
employing her vocal arabesques for a 'nayno' chorus. She then sang some cantiñas
harking back to Pastora Pavón's traditional styles. Gurgling in the old
style, playing with the melodies, with castañas de Galaroza, and
in the end, with her own character. She finishes off with an arm movement, turns
her back on the audience, gesticulates as she speaks, picks up the shawl... She
came down a notch for tientos and soleares endangering the show's rhythm, without
seeming to realize that an outdoor auditorium that holds eight thousand people
inevitably cools off. She continued the downward spiral with lyrical Levantine
cante, so reserved, so baroque alone with Migue Ochando who delivered the songbird
to familiar territory. Granaínas tranquilly oozes from the guitar, caressed
by sweet nothings of voice, applause (the only time throughout the night that
it came in the middle of a verse), disapproval. And she smiles, she knows how
to leave the tremolo behind and climb mercilessly. The crickets keep compás,
if they aren't deaf. She sings so slowly, so withheld, so intricately does she
trace the melodic line, that stimulants should be dispensed: she is her father's
daughter. And she stands up and sings a song to him. 'Super flumina...'.
Over the current of San Juan de la Cruz. The forms so personal, her recorded repertoire
so little defended.
The concert's rhythm definitely hits bottom when the girl retires for a change
of dress. A cajón solo isn't enough, nor is a guitar playing fandangos...she
takes her time before returning dressed up as a Goyesque muse. She comes singing
of Lorca's muleros, following the pilgrims on their way to Roma, crossing
paths with the peanut vendor...and then finally yes, she grabs the recital by
the horns, wakes up the audience and takes charge, prepared to begin a crescendo
to wake Morpheus. After consulting with the guitarists, comfortable and forward,
she twirls her mantilla and climbs the Cerro de Palomares, dances, tangoes...
And, saying that she pays tribute to Sevilla by way of bullfighting, returns to
her place. Estrella Morente becomes the singer of Spanish folk-pop and, after
playing up to that audience of fifty-something housewives (no disrespect intended),
for whom she traded in her first incipient followers, she strolls along the edge
of the stage finishing her work. The world of Spanish folk-pop trembles. The audience
ended up standing, the word "guapa" ('gorgeous') was shouted out dozens
of times and she called her family on-stage to end up with bulerías. A
closing number that was, at the same time, the closing of the Bienal. And it was
a draw in the Sánchez Pijuán stadium.
|
The other side of the story
The twelfth edition of Seville's Bienal de Flamenco is over. After thirty-three
days of shows, the sigh of relief is inevitable. The flamenco onslaught now requires
some digesting which promises to take time. Just as it is necessary to reflect
on the result of this festival of festivals: whether or not the program was apt,
the relevance of its international character, whether or not the organizational
angle panned out... Time to take a deep breath.
|
| |
revista@flamenco-world.com
|
