MARINA HEREDIA. PRESENTATION OF ‘LA
VOZ DEL AGUA’ IN MADRID
Spotlight. Marina returns
Silvia Calado. Madrid, March 13th, 2007
‘La voz del agua’. Marina
Heredia: cante. José Quevedo ‘Bolita’,
Luis Mariano: guitars. Fidel Cordero: piano. Alexis Lefèvre:
violin. José Manuel Posada ‘Popo’:
bass, contrabass. Carlos Grilo, Luis Cantarote: clapping.
Teatro Calderón Haagen-Dazs. Madrid, March 13th,
2007. 9 p.m.
Marina Heredia (Photo:
Daniel Muñoz) |
|
| |
|
Manolo Caracol and Lola Flores are only
some of the great flamenco figures who left their art
on the stage which Marina
Heredia chose to present her new album, ‘La
voz del agua’. Breathing that vintage inspiration,
she settled into the cozy little Madrilenian venue of
Teatro Calderón – now sponsored by an American
ice cream company – surrounded by her ten musicians,
beautifully dressed by designer Ángeles Verano
and ready to reel off the repertoire from her second album,
which shows the true Marina Heredia.
Amidst admirers, friends, family and
the scent of hundreds of red and white carnations, the
Granada-born cantaora came out on stage. As a presentation,
she chose ‘Tango de las madres locas’ by Granada-born
singer-songwriter Carlos Cano, a song with form and substance.
Not only does she let loose with every nuance of her voice,
from the sweetest velvet to the most jondo zest, but she
also says things and denounces. She is impeccably faithful
to the album, rare in flamenco, just like the solidity
of the band, varied in strings and percussions. Now seated,
she tackles cante por malagueñas, finishing off
with fandangos del Albaycín. Complete devotion,
full energy. The stage overflows, flooding the theater.
And she is showered with olés and compliments.
Withdrawn, serene, she plunges into the soleá with
her trademark, with the ‘Parrón’ trademark,
accompanied by Luis Mariano’s natural toque.
She then turns her regard to one of the
most singable tunes on the album, which it also has. With
the choruses smoothing the road, she goes into the stylized
bulería ‘La rosa tardía’. And
she lets off steam there, with accompaniment full of go
and life. Following the flash, return to faint light,
to the jondo. But this time standing, next to Fidel Cordero
on piano, who takes her to the mine, step by step. Picture.
Quejío. Then it’s time to alternate with
the fiesta, with the rhythm, this time with the ballad
por tangos ‘Mil vidas’. And there she shows
off, mellow and versatile, hooking the audience through
the love motif and the refrain, marking a turning point
in the performance.
| |
Marina Heredia
(Photo: Daniel Muñoz) |
| |
|
Intermission to taste ice cream –
it’s no joke; the cart is set up in an aisle of
the theater, with a sunshade and everything – and
to socialize, since there are more than illustrious guests...
from Pepe Habichuela to Luis Cobos, with Nacho Cano in
between. And the second part. The beautiful Granada-born
artist bursts in with a black bata de cola and shawl amidst
a shower of carnations and praise, leaning against the
piano to go copla-style with ‘A tu vera’.
Arts of a prima donna in the walking and posing. Arts
of a cantaora in the acting. An old recording then takes
her to Sacromonte, with Moorish airs taken up live by
the guitar of Jerez-born José
Quevedo ‘Bolita’, the album’s producer,
“my artistic significant other”. For the occasion,
she comes dressed in red and flowers, with an oh looking
to Tangier. And she does that style perfectly. She gives
it the right weight, getting herself ready for the moments
of brave cante, of ripping her throat and shaking. The
chill remains with ‘Balada del que nunca fue a Granada’,
but a different way. Alberti’s poem speaks of an
encounter he was never able to have with Lorca... because
he was shot to death. And Marina Heredia stresses the
drama and the lyrics. May it be understood, may it hurt,
but may it sound sweet, be easy to listen to.
While the music is being shaped up, with
violin by Alexis
Lefèvre up front, “that crying violin”,
she changes into a tight skirt with black, pink and orange
fringes... and a matador’s jacket for the last task.
Two bulls. Two poets. ‘La gran faena’ by Granada-born
Manuel Benítez Carrasco, a circular song whose
refrain she puts nearly her last strength into. ‘Illo
y Romero’ by José Bergamín, por “high-energy”
bulerías, with the air of a flamenco... and bullfighting
party. The group expands, grows, pierces forcefully, nearly
rock style, but unplugged. Back to the ring. And she comes
out lifted up on shoulders following the batch of cries
at the foot of the stage, with the ten musicians, quiet,
covering her back. Thus, brimming over with jondura, good
taste and roots, Marina Heredia sealed the presentation
of ‘La
voz del agua’, the album which once again highlights
one of the most outstanding cantaoras in the brilliant
generation of ‘povedas’, ‘estrellas’
and ‘arcángeles’. And she’s eating
up stages...
