2007 MONT DE MARSAN FLAMENCO FESTIVAL.
JOSÉ MERCÉ, ‘LO QUE NO SE DA’
And France didn’t sing ‘Aire’
S.C. Mont de Marsan, July 4th, 2007
‘Lo que no se da’. José
Mercé: cante. Moraíto: guitar.
Keko Baldomero: second guitar. Juan Parrilla: flute. Manolo
Nieto: bass. Marcelino Fernández: box drum, choruses.
O’Hara Soto: choruses, clapping. 19th Mont de Marsan
Flamenco Festival. Espace François Mitterrand.
Mont de Marsan (France), July 4th, 2007. 9 p.m.
José Mercé (Photo
Daniel Muñoz)
Though it’s hard to believe, José
Mercé made a début last night. The cantaor
found himself face-to-face with the challenge of convincing
an auditorium full of neophytes. And he realized it when
he asked the crowd to sing the chorus of ‘Al alba’...
and nobody batted an eye. He might never before have received
that silence as a response when inviting the audience
to take part. If it had been in Spanish territory, he
himself would hardly have been heard over the chorus of
nearly two thousand people. There he’s a star -
the cantaor who achieved the impossible by topping the
charts with hits such as ‘Aire’ and ‘Del
amanecer’. But the record industry makes those mistakes.
And it hasn’t made José Mercé international
- not even European - like Diego el Cigala, who in this
very square brought the crowd to its feet two years ago
with ‘Lágrimas negras’. So the Jerez-born
cantaor had to play it all on one card; that of straight-out
cante. And that’s what really gets enthusiasts’
hearts throbbing here when they come to the festival.
The straighter, the better. Therefore, that entire first
part with guitar was what convinced the audience and confirmed
the artist at this difficult square in Mont de Marsan.
José Mercé warmed up his
throat por malagueñas. The crowd was already able
to make out the vocal wonder it had before it. The Jerez-born
cantaor carries with him that ancestral special something
which he enhances with his musical and stage might. And
Moraíto,
his faithful squire, fed the prologue by invoking the
telluric energy his toque has. The cantaor took off his
jacket, dried his sweat, rolled up his sleeves. Something
big was coming up. “I should have died, because
I didn’t know how to feel, and in my slow understanding,
I’m grateful to life”. Soleá. The cante
opens pores. The cante pierces. The drama of existence
itself. Mercé tackles it. And the guitar... simple,
just, inside. Moraíto knows how, when, where. Next,
the string of vital lessons... Fandangos. The phases make
him pluck up courage, rip his voice, clench his fists.
Then he’s ready for the climax, the seguiriya. The
guitar runs up and down the auditorium’s skin. From
delicate tickling to the sharpest pinch. The cantaor waits,
looking towards the heavens. And then he bursts out singing.
His throat widens up. He drags the cante. He hurts. The
crowd hardly breathes. They have to wait for the falseta...
The falseta. And then they breathe.
Moraíto (Photo
Daniel Muñoz)
Pop starts to appear, the formula of
“legible flamenco” which has won so many people
over... on the other side of the Pyrenees. In comes the
electric bass, flute, box drum, clapping, choruses, second
guitar. The color spotlights light up the stage like at
macro-concerts. He chooses the single off his latest album,
‘Lo que no se da’, a little tune with an alegrías
beat. But such a radical change needs a transition. And
he leaves Moraíto playing the monumental rumba
‘Rocayisa’, which he devotes to cantaores
Pansequito and Aurora
Vargas. What tension, what intensity... in a single
toque, in a score which is the anthem of flamenco guitar’s
recent history. Mercé returned sporting a bright
shirt. And he proposed interaction with ‘Al alba’,
the bulerías version of the song by Spanish singer-songwriter
Luis Eduardo Aute. There wasn’t any, but he managed
to get himself across and display more tessituras. Moraíto
takes over the band. “Un. Dos”. And the concert
goes por tangos, with another song off the new album.
“I’ll always be from the south, even if I’m
not in my native land”, the song says. ‘Aire’
doesn’t get a response, either. So he has to re-trace
his footsteps and get to that point when the cante por
seguiriyas finished. The crowd does react to the word
“bulerías”. To essence, compás,
fiesta. Now it does. The auditorium is vibrating, stamps
on the floor, calls for an encore. And José Mercé,
the Jerez-born cantaor, Paco la Luz y de Sordera’s
relative, insists por bulerías, insists on the
fiesta. And he leaves the mike aside. And he makes the
people sitting in the upper tiers of seats come running
down to hear him. And he sings “Alianda” by
La
Paquera, so beloved here as in his native land. And
he dances. And he enjoys himself. France doesn’t
know ‘Aire’, but it knows the essence of flamenco
perfectly well.
