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JOSÉ MERCÉ.
PRESENTATION OF ‘CONFÍA DE FUÁ’
Delicatessen
Silvia Calado. Madrid, November 22nd,
2004
Photos: Daniel Muñoz
‘Confí de fuá’.
José Mercé: cante. Moraíto Chico, Diego
de Morao, Juan Diego: guitars. José María Cortina:
keyboards. Manolo Nieto: bass. Lope de Vega Theater. Madrid,
November 22nd, 2004. 10 p.m.
Before an audience that was half real enthusiasts, half famous
guests, José
Mercé officially presented his new album ‘Confí
de fuá’ in Madrid. The stage chosen was Lope
de Vega Theater in the Spanish capital, which took a short
break in the season of the musical ‘Mamma Mia!’
to make room for flamenco. And the thing is that no matter
how much flirting there is with other kinds of music on his
records, José Mercé cannot nor wishes to avoid
flamenco. In fact, this is an album of reaffirmation. There
are songs, yes, but there is flamenco... and of the vintage
variety.
José Mercé |
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He appeared standing below a beam of light. The “trantrán”
he warmed up with announced cante through martinetes. Unaccompanied.
His voice naked, powerful, whole, bloodcurdling. So as not
to break up the ambience created by such deep cante, he went
on through malagueñas, evoking cantaores such as Enrique
el Mellizo and Manuel Torre. Next with the firm guitar of
Moraíto
Chico to his left and with José María Cortina
emulating the organ of La Merced Basilica on the keyboard,
just like he did in ‘Bajo un jazmín de verano’
on the album ‘Lío’. The cante slow, contained,
chewed over. Once warmed up, they begin to take a close look
at the repertoire of ‘Confí de fuá’.
Assisted by the music stand, the Jerez-born cantaor seized
the soleá ‘De tu olvío me curé’
which came out so intimate, so true for them on the album.
The guitarist uses the bass strings, lavish in firmness, solidity,
the sonanta farsighted like so very few. And the cantaor along
the same lines. Next came the nun's fandangos. ‘Cuenta
que tiene un amante’ (‘She says she has a lover’).
He utters it beautifully, as if allowing the phrases to fall
from his timbre due to the effects of gravity. The applause
finally starts to grow amidst the still somewhat cold crowd.
The cantaor and guitarist catch their breath and leave the
floor free for two young guitarists from Jerez, each with
his own personal offer: Diego de Morao and Juan Diego. The
former, who has actively taken part on the album, used his
paternal training in bulerías that he sprinkled with
personality. The latter took a piece of tangos off his famous
album ‘Luminaria’,
a prodigy of musicality.
José Mercé and Moraíto came back to
center stage, ready to offer the album's most stylized songs,
with the entire band on stage (choruses, box drum, bass...).
The cantaor turns into a singer for ‘Líbreme
el hombre’. Mellow, telling, making himself heard. A
maestro in different melodic connections. And enjoying himself...
Baile in his chair, he smiles, opening his arms as if swimming
in the music which, by the way, was perfectly amplified. The
box drum makes the connection with the tangos ‘Juana’,
with funny lyrics, with three guitars, with a soothing refrain.
Vividness. And finally, ‘Confí de fuá’,
that first single off the album dedicated to women, in honor
of them... the best. Dense phrases, beautifully sung within
a song just right for the band and the big stage.
José
Mercé por bulerías
Moraíto Chico remains alone. A spectacular outburst.
“Long live the New York Symphony!”, they shout
to him. And the Jerez-born guitarist plays that great composition
that starts off the album ‘Morao
y oro’. Great. José Mercé came back
to the fray with the alegrías ‘Tirititrán’
and with those bulerías from the Santiago neighborhood
entitled ‘No me digas’ which sing to a “vegetarian
gypsy”. Back to the ‘singer’ register: ‘Clandestino’
by Manu Chao, the album version. Social denunciation, a smooth
bulería, cante which feels, which gushes forth with
authority, with feeling, with credibility. With the rumba
‘Saliva curativa’ he moves on to the next part
and marks the end. A light, hummable, latin, danceable song.
José Mercé enjoys himself, brimming over with
satisfaction. He has had his fill of singing... and he doesn't
mind going on. It was a triple encore. First, ‘Aire’,
by popular demand. Second, bulerías without a microphone
and with a little dance by the cantaor included. And third,
‘Al alba’. By then only the die-hard fans were
left, the ones who knew the lyrics and hummed them, the ones
who made a cantaor feel so at home with no fear of renewing
himself and being free.
magazine@flamenco-world.com
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