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The first masters

The ‘new’ instrument was soon adopted by Antonio Carmona - vocalist from the group Ketama - described by Soler as “one of the best”, and by Paco de Lucía as “the best”. The funny thing is that the first cajón he recorded was that of Rubem Dantas. Back then Ketama was just starting out, with projects like ‘Ketama’, ‘La pipa de kif’ and ‘Songhai’, on which flamenco was twinned with Toumani Diabate's African kora. Antonio Carmona's contributions as a percussionist are immortalized on projects like ‘Barrio negro’ by Tomatito, ‘Negra, si tú supieras’ by Enrique Morente, ‘Mi tiempo’ by Rafael Riqueni, ‘Luzía’ by Paco de Lucía, ‘De mi corazón al aire’ by Vicente Amigo...

	José Antonio Galicia: “Thanks to the percussion that provides it with a base, the guitar was able to do things that were more open harmonically, to begin to float on air”

José Antonio Galicia a pioneer in the utilization of drums in flamenco (see for yourself on Camarón's ‘La leyenda del tiempo’), also saw the suitability of the adopted sound that came from across the ocean. He was a member of Dolores, the band that Paco de Lucía used, but at that time was “totally hooked” on the drums and, owing to transport and problems with the sound setup, didn't go on tour with the sextet. The cajón would start to enter his repertoire of instruments once drumstick fever subsided, keeping the beat for flamenco artists like Carmen Linares, Cañizares, Antonio Canales, Gerardo Núñez, El Indio Gitano...

The interview he gave Flamenco-world.com a little before his death in September 2003, is bursting with reflections on the role that the cajón (and percussion in general) plays in flamenco. The musician always maintained that “flamenco on its own is percussion”, but with the addition of the cajón “came a joint evolution of all the instruments”. And if it offers “motivation” to bailaores, it's helped guitarists to break free, because “thanks to the percussion that provides it with a base, the guitar was able to do things that were more open harmonically, to begin to float on air, because when you come back the percussion is always there waiting for you”.

What's the correct place for the cajón? In the opinion of El Gali, as he was affectionately known by his fellow artists, “you have to play very quietly: the footwork above the percussion, the guitar in between supporting everything, and you right down there, below everybody, until the time comes to make some noise because you need that rush or that aggressiveness that percussion gives when you really put your strength into it. And that offers a lot of motivation to the bailaores and to the musicians, to do different stuff, to change things a little.”.

Tino di Geraldo: “The percussion is supposed to offer help and support, but should never be the opposite”

Tino di Geraldo is also one of those who thinks that “percussion has to offer help and support, but never the opposite.” It found its way from rock into flamenco by coincidence. The first cajón I recorded was the one you can hear on ‘Tauromagia’ by Manolo Sanlúcar. The guitarist asked a carpenter from Sanlúcar de Barrameda to make him one. Since then, it's become almost an essential element. It forms part of the discography of artists of the ilk of Camarón, Paco de Lucía, Enrique Morente and Vicente Amigo, to name just a few. In spite of the fact that it's already approaching thirty years of age, he notes that “the cajón is still new to many musicians. I go around the place playing and people ask me: “What's that?” And yet, within flamenco very often it's more a case of: “not again.” They're like fads that come and go, but in the end what matters is the soniquete, that constant shuffling beat. And you can do that on a cajón, on a table, with a few handclaps, with your head against the wall, with whatever. It isn't the instrument, it's the musician. And with that in mind anything can happen, it might go the wrong way and instead of helping... The percussion is supposed to offer help and support, but should never be the opposite. And very often the sound gets too cluttered without any real point to it. And what that does is spoil the overall effect unnecessarily. You get the same effect from a child's new toy - the child plays too much with it at first, until he realizes that and then it starts to assume its proper place. (Read more)

And the fact is that since the ‘rules’ are still being written, the criticisms of excess have abounded. They've come above all from flamenco dance, from those who defend a classical approach. Bailaora Matilde Coral, staunch defender of what she terms the Seville school of Andalusian dance, affirms that “excessive cajón drowns out baile, but the bailaor feels comfortable, doesn't push himself, and can last forever.” That type of percussion, very often, “is just used to cover up”. And she blames herself, to a certain extent, for these excesses: “Many years ago I performed a martinete and the person who played the anvil was Manolito Soler. He was bailaor, but he started to play well and, since he had such a great sense of music, he started getting carried away... I mean, I'm partly to blame too.” Bailaor Manolo Marín shares this attitude with her, adding emphatically that “nowadays everything is percussion: tum-tockatum-tockatum. There are no great musical moments in flamenco any more - now it's all cajón and showing off. Sometimes it seems like instead of flamenco it's African, with drums and djembes”.

But in the end the cajón specialists themselves are the ones who set the record straight. Mario Cortés, the craftsman behind the best-known flamenco cajones, has a maxim: “Playing harder doesn't mean it's going to sound bigger or better, all it's going to do is get in the way”. And since he isn't only a cajón-maker, but also a guitarist, he has a clear vision of the instrument's place in music: “You have to limit yourself to accompanying appropriately according to what you hear, with the right density and volume... only then will a cajón be in its place.” That's why he has no doubts about recognizing “when a cajón doesn't really fit.” So what's the key? “Stick to accompanying”. (Read more)

Mario Cortés y Tomasito (Foto: Daniel Muñoz)

Mario Cortés: “Playing harder doesn't mean it's going to sound bigger or better, all it's going to do is get in the way”

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