DUTCH FLAMENCO BIENNIAL
2008. DIEGO CARRASCO
Amsterdam throbs
Silvia Calado. Amsterdam, October 29th, 2008
Diego Carrasco and group
(Photo Daniel Muñoz)
The series of olés in ‘Alfileres
de colores’. The double rock clapping in “por
la bahía de Cai”. An ovation por bulerías.
The Dutch who half-filled the Muziekgebouw aan’t
IJ seemed to have spent all their lives following Diego
Carrasco. But no. They hardly knew him - except for
the good handful of enthusiasts from here - from when
he appeared on television last week in an interview-performance
prior to the festival. The rest was pure live artist-audience
communication. And the thing is, as he put it so well,
“there’s no need to talk”. From heart
to heart.
Although it had the same title as at
Bienal de Flamenco de Sevilla 2008, ‘El tiempo del
diablo’ had nothing to do with Don Juan Tenorio
here, or with hell, or with stage designs. It all ended
up as a Diego Carrasco concert in which he went over some
of the many songs from his discography. The artist kicked
things off seated at the edge of the stage with his guitar
at the ready. From the Lorcan leaf of lettuce, to ‘Mariposilla
verde’. Deep, grief, drama. And the refrain to Manuela
is also sung by Las Peligro (Joaquina and Carmen Amaya).
The troubadour sketches a heart over his left breast with
his hands. And the feedback begins. The new rumba ‘Duende
de la fragua’ shakes up the crowd in their seats.
Cold outside. Warm inside. A kick here, compás
there. A broken tribute to Fernanda de Utrera, a stroll
along the Bay, some tangos side-by-side between Curro
de Navajita and the chorus singers.
Click
the image to enlarge |
|
Diego
Carrasco (Photo Daniel Muñoz) |
The first guest comes out on stage. Moraíto
plays por bulerías. But the technical flaws are
flagrant. The sound leaves the guitar dull. The lighting
and the foreground are for the shrill clappers (a role
played by box drum players Juan Grande and Ané
Carrasco). The second guest is bailaora Pastora
Galván, who comes out to the sound of ‘Oliva
y naranja’ wearing a skirt with a red train and
a little blouse knotted at her navel, shaking up the stage.
Galvan-style tics, mighty hips, a great big woman of ballrooms
and slums. For the snapshot, the picture of her fiery
foreshortened figure beside the troubadour. The ovation
was seismic. With the audience entirely devoted, the compilation
continued. A string of ‘carrascadas’ por bulerías,
moving on to ‘Mi momá’. But in such
tiny bits, that the songs got away before they could be
savored. Morao interlude. And back. From Camarón
to the bullfighting potpourri. But by then there is a
certain more and more visible disorder or lack of structure
or of fluency or of dynamics or of a rehearsal hall. Diego
even asks the festival director, now ready next to the
steps leading up to the stage for her moment of glory,
if he’s doing OK time-wise. Something’s wrong.
But not that chemistry of his which so masterfully unites
heart, charisma, communication, art. That’s how
he conquered Amsterdam. No less.
Click
the image to enlarge |
|
Moraíto,
Pastora Galván and Diego Carrasco
(Photo Daniel Muñoz) |
