SEVILLE'S 2006 BIENAL DE FLAMENCO. MIGUEL POVEDA, ‘TIERRA DE CALMA’

Great art

Silvia Calado. Seville, September 28th, 2006
Translation: Joseph Kopec

‘Tierra de calma’. Miguel Poveda: cante. Juan Carlos Romero: music, guitar. Paquito González, Antonio Coronel: percussion. Carlos Grilo, Luis Cantarote, Juan Cantarote: clapping. Eva Yerbabuena, Dorantes, Diego Carrasco, Paco Jarana: special collaborations. Pepa Gamboa: stage director. Manu Madueño: lighting. Balbina Parra: assistant director. Eduardo Ruiz: sound. Seville's 14th Bienal de Flamenco 2006. Teatro Lope de Vega. Seville, September 28th, 2006. 9 p.m.

Miguel Poveda has set his sights high. The premiere of his new album ‘Tierra de calma’ at the Teatro Lope de Vega sparked euphoria in Seville, that land which has given him calmness, that land which has returned him to flamenco, that land which signed his adoption certificate in permanent ink last night. What occurred at this charming venue from the exceptional year of 1929 isn't normal. The crowd's devotion was felt before the doors were even opened. Seville was coming to make Miguel Poveda its own. And he surrendered unconditionally. It isn't about him being one of the best cantaores coming out of flamenco in recent times. It isn't only about that, since on stage he doesn't hide himself as a person and he has that natural gift to captivate the audience, from the most discreet humility. And he proved that with the string of brilliant guests who offered to take part in this presentation. Eva Yerbabuena, Dorantes, Diego Carrasco, Paco Jarana. The performance surely cost him money, he surely never thought they might overshadow him, even reaching the point of letting them be, enjoying them just like any other spectator. And that's greatness. How hard are these scenes to come by of shared enjoyment just because of art.

Miguel Poveda with Eva Yerbabuena
(Photo: Luis Castilla. Bienal de Flamenco de Sevilla)

Seville's essence synthesized in an image. The blue of the sky reflected in a fountain. Floating in the water, a bitter orange. The picture disperses and it dawns with a sweet ‘lereirere’. Cante and toque por farrucas, which contain all the labor of creation and recreation by Miguel Poveda and Juan Carlos Romero, that aim to “grow in flamenco, but beginning from within”. Ode to the ‘Tierra de calma’ (‘Land of Calmness’). Joining the gathering is Paco Jarana, who comes in to place the music, and the creators of the compás and rhythm split into five parts by clappers and percussionists. The group prepares a canvas which cante draws upon. It sketches, shades, stumps, outlines... And the Huelva-born artist's spaced-out guitar, which acts as an inspiring muse. ‘Calle del mar’, malagueñas and abandolaos. The olés come out from on and off stage, presented, by the way, with a touch of stylism by Pepa Gamboa. He leaves the album's repertoire for a little while in order to let off steam por alegrías, a style never left out of his performances. That power as if of an old-time cantaor, that capacity to beautifully resolve each phase and that something you never know how to describe makes the theater break out in shouting and applause in the first coplas. Now he plays, draws out, breaks. And he even recalls the maestros from Cádiz. The theater is helpless with pleasure. Back to the album (and how strange it is for a flamenco to stick to his record when he presents it). Now only Romero's guitar is played, por soleá. ‘Náufragos del hambre’, which makes a commitment to the deep, to the musical challenge. Guitar and voice trap the feeling of the crowd, who enjoy it when the cante prances, when it overlaps the phases, when it changes the tonality, when it is nailed sharply. How awesome. And suddenly, it makes us come out of the trance with a delight por bulerías. He sings ‘Como la luna en el agua’ aided by hands and arms, which emphasize the expression of each set of lyrics, also this original one by Juan Carlos Romero, who writes thinking about life's experiences. It has something of what today is called a song with a chorus, but just enough to hum it, since it doesn't lose flamenco's natural freshness.

And then magic personified comes out on stage in Eva Yerbabuena. Matilde Coral, who is her number one fan, gives the first olé to her look. She hardly advances, as if levitating along the edge of the stage towards an encounter with the cantaor who, standing up, sings ‘Canto de la resignación’ by Carmen Linares to her. Toná, silence and fantasy. The change is an incentive in her body, which is broken in the end. Commotion. But the surprise was yet to come; that gift to Seville which Miguel didn't want to reveal, but could be sensed. To piano of essences by Dorantes, Eva Yerbabuena dances the sevillanas ‘Y en medio del río’. Well, she dances her creation over that music and that cante por sevillanas, which is reminiscent of the ways of Salmarina. Words just don't cut it here. What finesse, what beauty, what a way to include the idiosyncrasy of this city, of the reflection of its river, of the flirtatiousness of its women. And the piece of Seville which is in the theater decides to surrender at the feet of this triangle of artists. The piano remains to act as guitar – in Romero's flying wave – in the tientos-tangos, a piece which ends up from elegant to passable in a two-way dialogue. Miguel Poveda addresses Seville, gives thanks and makes it clear that “I'm having a great time”.

And he keeps on enjoying himself with a potpourri of Spanish copla por bulerías which delights everyone. So much so, that they nearly don't let him finish. It must be recalled that, among many other projects, the cantaor has been tied up in one based on this genre together with Martirio and he masters it as well as anybody. With complete success in structuring the repertoire and the resulting creation of climate, the crescendo continues with the appearance by Diego Carrasco–receiving an ovation when he came out – to converse with the bullfighting bulería ‘Alfileres de colores’. Miguel treats himself to soaking up this complete artist, who sings, dances, plays and creates. And he doesn't hold back a few pataítas. Fun flamenco. Olé with olé and olé. The crowd bursts into applause. The tangos ‘Buenas intenciones’ announce the ending, all light, all vitality. And suddenly, Diego can be heard reciting in gypsy dialogue as he comes in with Yerbabuena by the arm. After a little while of art by the couple, with Poveda in the role of spectator, everyone gets up and disconnects, making a circle around the beautiful brunette who's going to dance por bulerías, as they say in Seville, ‘pa quitá er sentío’ (breathtakingly). The expression is fitting to describe what happened there because it was great, really great. Of course, the audience asked for a little more with a unanimous standing ovation, clapping in unison. And Miguel Poveda was daring enough to give thanks por seguiriyas together with Juan Carlos Romero, in a jondo epilogue which fell into the deepest part of Seville.

And tomorrow... Fuensanta la Moneta and José Valencia (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)   José Valencia / Fuensanta la Moneta. Teatro Alameda, 9 p.m. The series which gives flamenco's young talents a chance continues at La Alameda with a bill shared by José Valencia and Fuensanta la Moneta. The Lebrija-born cantaor, who has been to the Bienal so many times as an accompanist, now comes out up front with “a little classical concert, with a traditional format and setting myself in my land, Lebrija”. The Granada-born bailaora, who is one of the artists who usually has José Valencia in her group, is going to include in her repertoire alegrías in a bata de cola “which I have to thank Matilde Coral for” and a farruca which Javier Latorre put together for her, whose company she's spent the past few seasons in. Both coincide that the performance will be “a challenge and a responsibility” which they intend to take advantage of. Manuel Molina and Tomasito (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)     Los Juncales: Manuel Molina, Diego Carrasco, Moraíto, Tomasito. Hotel Triana, 11:30 p.m. Following the premiere at Festival de Nîmes 2006, Los Juncales get together again, but this time in the appropriate land of Triana. Nearly bordering on the early morning hours, getting together on stage at the courtyard of the old Hotel Triana was guitarist Moraíto and multi-artists Diego Carrasco, Manuel Molina and Tomasito, who admit their mutual admiration and respect. The evening promises “something magic and unpredictable, since as Manuel Molina made clear, “what comes from the heart isn't in either the roles or the essays”.

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