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LEBRIJANO.
‘LÁGRIMAS DE CERA’.
SEVILLE'S 13th BIENAL DE FLAMENCO 2004
Passion... and life
Silvia Calado. Seville, September 26th,
2004
Photos: Daniel Muñoz
‘Lágrimas de cera’
(‘Wax Tears’). El
Lebrijano: cante. Pedro María Peña: guitar.
Michel Laccarino: second guitar. Alexis Lefèvre, Faical
Kourrich: violin. Nacho Gil: soprano saxophone, Turkish clarinet,
Persian flute and Midi. Mangu Díaz: bouzouki and glissentar.
Manuel Nieto: bass. Antonio Coronel: percussion. Tete Peña:
box drum. Rosario Amador, Ana González, Lucía
Montoya, Morenito de Coria: choruses and clapping. Maestranza
Theater. Seville, September 26th, 2004. 9 p.m. Seville's 13th
Bienal de Flamenco 2004.
El Lebrijano
‘Lágrimas
de cera’ is “a daring feat”. El Lebrijano
created this album five years ago now. “Emi record company
asked me to do a remix with cuts it had from recordings by
music bands to bring out a Holy Week album, but I said that
it was no good for me, that I preferred to do an album from
scratch”. And it turned out to be, in the words of the
cantaor, “an advance in my feelings forward”.
It was a delicate matter, bearing in mind the religious fervor
which Seville professes. El Lebrijano worked it out his way,
without being intimidated. And instead of using bugles and
drums, he sought sounds and voices from other latitudes exempt
from prejudice and pressure. And instead of saetas, he sings
a happy alboreá to the Virgin.
But Seville had yet to know this album live, although it
had been taken to stages in other countries. And the ‘premiere’
at the Maestranza Theater and in the setting of the Bienal
was like a sort of sure-fire test. The stage had been turned
into a Sevillian procession, with a great wooden cross, four
tall lit wax candles, the floor carpeted with red carnations,
the theater perfumed with incense and the beams of light coming
in as if through colorless stained-glass windows. The musicians
formed a semi-circle and El Lebrijano came to take up his
position in the center. The music started off first and afterwards
his voice was heard... still reserved. The concert's prologue
was ‘En el soto’, a classic by the cantaor arranged
for the occasion with more sobriety, with more elegance. It
thunders. His right hand sketches out the clouds. Oriental
violins. Sweet choruses. ‘Soleá de las candelas’
comes in with a guitar solo by Pedro María Peña
- Dorantes' brother and therefore, Lebrijano's nephew -, whose
toque is becoming interesting. The lyrics are based on a passage
by the poet Isaiah and his deep voice utters it with all the
density of the soleá, with muffled clapping as a base.
The repertoire itself from ‘Lágrimas de cera’
now begins with ‘Eclipse’. Electric sounds generated
with string instruments, Arabic wind instruments, violins,
tambourines and guitars melt into a harmonious, filled, understood...
and understandable whole. The introduction of the sonanta
for ‘Sentencia’ receives compliments. A change
in style. The drama of the passion of Jesus has an extroverted
vitalistic tone, as hopeful. El Lebrijano now begins raising
his voice; he broadens it and brands it with his personal
expression. The group's care should not be a surprise, but
the thing is that flamenco bands do not always present themselves
on stage so well-rehearsed... unfortunately. The arrangement
of the two violins catches the attention of the audience,
who enjoy the devotion of the cantaor and his disciples. The
Lebrijano clan that has taken to the theater no longer holds
back its shouting. The show's climax comes with ‘Lágrimas
de cera’, a song presented through percussions, strings
and saxophone. As the cantaor had told the press days before,
this song aims “to make people sensitive to what's going
on in the world; in horror, every day on TV we see the suffering
of children, mothers...”. And it does so brilliantly,
with beautiful, kaleidoscopic music. The cante buds weightily,
with feeling, so expressive, so entirely devoted now.
Jesus speaks to Mary. ‘La profecía’ ('The
Prophecy'). Low tones of an electric nature which sound Indian
and like an organ, but the guitars are left. Lebrijano speaks
about a prophecy of death. And the female chorus answers him
with a lament. A turning point. Crescendo by all. ‘Pena
de madre’ ('A Mother's Grief'). Antonio Coronel plays
a roll on the drum. And Lucía Montoya sings the sweetest
saeta ever heard. ‘Romero Santo’ ('Holy Rosemary')
is a song which El Lebrijano dedicated to his father, who
always took a bunch of rosemary to the procession bearers
in order to drive away the evil spirits. The song is rich,
dynamic, with room for each and every one of them. And finally,
a vibrant superposition of voices. In ‘Saeta al cantar’,
it is El Lebrijano who takes the initiative, with his arms
open backwards. The rhythm is like that of tanguillos and
welcomes the saeta of Antonio Machado, “who was called
to be in the show”.
‘Como del cielo al Rocío’ begins concentrated
with the cantaor and the drum, to end up being an alboreá
sung to the Virgin, for her to be rocked like gypsy brides.
El Lebrijano doesn't even leave room for his die-hard fans
to relax and now comes in with the episode of the resurrection
in ‘Sonando a gloria’. The music goes from being
soft and ambient to taking on the nature of the Lebrijano-cadence
bulería. The cantaor keeps on growing... and the group
accompanies him, alongside, as if in an ascension. The ovation
is not long in coming. “Long live Lebrija!”. The
first encore is ‘Lágrimas de cera’, but
with the difference that the cantaor is now standing up, displaying
all the capacity of his voice and his expression, very nearly
rock. The group goes on having fun. And another encore has
to be offered to the crowd, who do the clapping for ‘Sentencia’.
El Lebrijano says that this concert is a “flamenco requiem”,
but an... ‘allegro’ requiem.
revista@flamenco-world.com
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