7th FLAMENCO PA’ TOS FESTIVAL. ENRIQUE MORENTE & RAFAEL RIQUENI

“Historic”

Silvia Calado. Madrid, June 22nd, 2006

Online video / Photo gallery

7th Flamenco pa’Tos Festival 2006. Enrique Morente: cante. Rafael Riqueni: guitar. Bandolero: percussion. Pepe Luis Carmona, Antonio Carbonell, Ángel Gabarre: choruses and clapping. Colegio de Médicos. Madrid, June 22nd, 2006

Enrique Morente (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Third day of the seventh edition of the Flamenco pa’ Tos Festival, “a very special day because we’ve managed to bring together two absolute geniuses: Enrique Morente and Rafael Riqueni”. There wouldn’t be, as is usual, three performances: toque, cante and baile. The stage was exclusively reserved so that for the first time ever, the Granada-born cantaor and the Sevillian guitarist would gather in concert. “Historic, historic”, repeated the organizer. And the thing is that it wasn’t a matter of bringing together just any cantaor and guitarist, but rather two of the artists who have most contributed to speeding up the evolution of flamenco music over the last few decades. This concert was also special for recovering for stages Rafael Riqueni, an artist plagued by the dark side of life.

To set the ambience, the video was shown which filmmaker Fernando Trueba has done for Estrella Morente’s zambra. A soothing prelude after which the father, the source, Enrique Morente, entered the hall. A warm ovation accompanied him until he took up his place standing behind the microphone, flanked on either side by his gang. He marks the difference in the first copla. Just compás. A round of bulerías. He from La Alhambra searches thoroughly, takes risks... and sticks in lyrics por seguiriyas. Like nothing at all. The ayeos of inspiration which are his personal trademark. And a rise in art with the chorus, with superimposed echoes. “With the ratatatá tatatá”. Riqueni doesn’t wait. He brandishes his guitar, warms it up, makes it sing. Morente listens. And he replies with the poem ‘Ausencia’ by Manuel Machado, reeling off verses with pleasure, with devotion. The energy fields of both soon converge. And upon uttering the word “sadness”, the cantaor is now flying over the planet, tense, chilling. Riqueni is way into it. There’s freedom, there’s inspiration, there’s staunch devotion from the audience. What more can you ask for?

The use Morente makes of the cabal (see online video) is still surprising. What’s normally used as a postscript to the seguiriyas, he takes as cante in its own right, making use of its special harmony, in a major key, to offer a vibrant, brilliant, tense result... and without giving up the depth of what was bequeathed by the historic Silverio Franconetti. The clapping and percussion arrangement (Bandolero, by the way, is musically magnificent), plus the guitarist’s romping on the six strings, round off the piece. The climate is ripe for the cantiñas. Riqueni prologues by fluttering between classical and Antillean. Olés for him. “To draw that rose, help me, gentleman”. The cante comes in legible and creative, breaking, changing. Alberti’s sailor leads to full bloom. And then whispering. Tirititranes and cosmoramas.

Photo gallery . Flamenco Pa' tos Click the images to enlarge
Enrique Morente (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)	Rafael Riqueni (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)	Bandolero (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)
Enrique Morente (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)	Enrique Morente y Rafael Riqueni (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)	Enrique Morente (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Enrique Morente and Rafael Riqueni remain alone. Measuring each other up, admiring each other, absorbing each other, dialoguing. Artist to artist. Soleá. Malagueña. Seguiriya. A journey sprinkled with personal nuances, instant challenges, imagination, moments of withdrawal, exuberance, divertissement... genius. The crowd bursts into applause and jaleos over and over again. They’re in pure ecstasy when Morente again calls together his clique of jondo men for the round of tonás. Upon a mattress of vocal tones, each one does a cante... and Morente last. The rise, the eternal ay and the radical cut. Riqueni doesn’t know the keys to the ritual, but ends up taking part. Noises. Whistles. Clapping. Black. Ovation. Immense ovation. Enrique Morente has no choice, recalling La Paquera de Jerez, but to shout “Viva Madrid!”. And offer an encore por bulerías enjoyed so much that he ends up staggering, literally drunk on art.

Enrique Morente (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

magazine@flamenco-world.com