2004 CAJA MADRID FLAMENCO FESTIVAL
Estrella Morente

The princess

Candela Olivo. Madrid, February 17th, 2004
Translation: Joseph Kopec

Estrella Morente. Montoyita: guitar. Manuel Ochando: guitar. Bandolero: percussion. Antonio Carbonell, Ángel Gabarre, Victoria Carbonell, Remedios Heredia: choruses and clapping. Albéniz Theater. Madrid, February 17th, 2004. 9 p.m.

Estrella Morente

When she turned around, again stood firm in the middle of the stage and ordered the crowd to hush with a single gesture, it was definitively confirmed that Estrella Morente has supreme artistic stature. She had already sung everything singable, had already received all the possible compliments and olés, had already danced, posed, challenged... but wanted a little more, that nice gesture, that last great wink. And Madrid, the Court, had no choice but to surrender at the princess' feet.

The Granada-born cantaora inaugurated the twelfth edition of the Caja Madrid Festival solo, an unusual honor for this festival, which usually sports a shared bill. The reasons were clear. Enrique Morente's daughter is one of the few flamenco voice figures capable of staging a structured show, closed to the detail, elegant and dynamic. The cantaora knows how to pull all the strings on stage to keep the crowd sated for nearly two hours... with a gourmet product. The repertoire is exquisite, varied enough to satisfy all tastes and arranged in the shape of a "v", that is to say, from above to within and from the most intimate to the most extroverted. And always performed in the so 'Morentian' way which consists of risking, of drawing with fantasy, of being baroque and old and modern at the same time.

The journey began in the lands of Cádiz. She came on swaying, in a black frilled dress with a red rose in her hair. She took a seat and sang a variation of 'Coquinas', the alegrías with which she opens her first album 'Mi cante y un poema'. And with the detail that she says all the first verse without lyrics. Spirals, tremolos, games. Pastora Pavón accompanies her. She uses the soleá through bulerías to tuck herself in progressively, without giving up unexpected changes in tone, making no secret of the very extensive vocal range that she masters. With soothing effects, she introduces a round-trip song, with Bandolero marking the rhythm for her on the yembé. "A rose on a rosebush has a lot of fantasy". And also beauty... Now it is time to win over the hall's tough wing, the demanding enthusiasts. And she does so with a minera, a granaína, some tientos and a seguiriya, so that they don't complain. There go the first olés for the beautiful moan, which is sought and is liked, which makes an intricate journey of each stage. Estrella has reached the bottom of herself. And now it is time to take off. She goes off stage for a few minutes, leaving alone on his guitar Montoyita, who goes and takes the main song from 'El pequeño reloj' by Enrique Morente as the core, pleasing a great deal with his performance.

	Estrella Morente

Estrella Morente returns having changed attire, as is usual in her live shows, now appearing with silky sleeves beneath a matching black vest and shawl. "Guapa!" ("Pretty!"). She resumes the recital with a pasodoble beat - resolved on percussion and the guitar with true skill. The cante, sweet, stylized, beautiful. She, sure of herself, at times impudent, always adorning with poses, with finishing touches that make a throat out of her entire body. With two female and two male voices in the choruses and clapping, she sings through tangos, the lively kind. And she finishes them off with a chorus, upon which rides the cantaora's doubled voice. Next is another pleasant reinvention: a beginning with hardly any musical accompaniment as if through bamberas, leading to the "anda jaleo" as always, through bulerías. The cantaora's energy pours out in torrents, dancing, cheering, singing tremendously. The crowd explodes. While she leaves to get an embroidered shawl to play with, the microphone is placed on the stand for her... She comes back slowly singing 'Moguer' from her début album, savoring the verses by Juan Ramón Jiménez, a theater actress, singer, exhibitionist. The greeting is contained in the lyrics; in the string of cities, she saucily inserts an "and Madrid". She takes the stage. She adds to it, without further ado, the live courier of Antonio Chacón. And back to the task at hand. She asks bullfighter Enrique Ponce for permission and presents the tangos 'En lo alto del cerro' using her shawl as a cape and making a couple of slow passes. The recital goes irremediably 'in crescendo'. She responds to the new ovation with the bullfight song 'Madrina' through bulerías, breaking out dancing all along the front of the stage. The crowd is on its feet calling for an encore. The encore is a small group through bulerías - not at all improvised - which she resolves by adapting the format 'Los cuatro muleros'. For each verse, a 'pataíta'; women on stage. Uproar, skirmish. The troupe comes out on the right flank when... she turned around, again stood in the middle of the stage and ordered the crowd to hush with a single gesture, her arms open, her regard challenging. "Underneath the leaf of lettuce is my lover, prime, with warmth". Thy will be done.

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