2003 MONT DE MARSAN FLAMENCO ART FESTIVAL

Lebrija, Utrera, Alcalá and the World

Candela Olivo. Mont de Marsan (France), July 3rd, 2003
Photos: Daniel Muñoz

'Notas al pie': Javier Barón with Juan José Amador and Pepe de Pura on cante, Javier Patino and Canito on guitar, Antonio Coronel on box drum, Alexis on violin. 'Entre Lebrija y Utrera': Pepa de Benito, Gaspar de Utrera and Inés Bacán with Antonio Moya on guitar, Javier Vargas and Vicente Peña on rhythm. Singing Café Place Saint Roch. Mont de Marsan (France), July 3rd, 2003. 7:30 p.m.

Gaspar de Utrera, Inés Bacán and Pepa de Benito

Utrera took an early seat in the landaise city. Tomás de Perrate, cantaor and guitarist, the son of Perrate de Utrera, held a chat on the cante of his hometown which ended up being more autobiographical than informative. One question remained up in the air: what is it that makes Utrera's cante different? The answer would come a while later in its very practice, when Pepa de Benito, Gaspar de Utrera and Inés Bacán took the stage at Place Saint Roch. The way of splitting the rhythm to mark the accents (tatá tatá tatá...), the temperance with which cante is uttered or the varied range of tonalities that the melodies are sketched with are a few of the clues which, magic and mysteries aside, shape the mark of the cante from the lands of Seville's lower Guadalquivir. Joining them on a secondary plane, among other features, is professionalism; the double value of the three together comes from there.

The two women were first to sing a lullaby. The slowness hair-raising, the quejío deep, the lamenting primitive. And following the prologue, Gaspar de Utrera takes over. With a wooden pegbox and Morón in his thumb, Antonio Moya seconded him sticking to the requirements of this way of singing. Tientos, seguiriyas and that air of minas which connects with bulerías that speak of mines. The grief, slow. The whisky, "for the humidity". The cante weighs down Pedro Bacán's sister even more if possible... dense, thick, meticulously chewed over. Nearly as difficult to digest, as innocent. The painful ay comes out slowly from her arms. The guitar, minimum. Pepa de Benito, generous in affection, delivers the calm of cante with an additional pinch of bravery... and age. The popular philosophy for life and for love, in the verses. "You say you know a lot and knowing hasn't done you any good". The party through bulerías brings the triumvirate together just as a fighter plane from the nearby air base flies over the city. A turn for each. The clouds creak, the throats, too. The air of a playhouse. The kick also drop by drop. And the lyrics improvised from those of Benito: "Now I really am comfortable because this year I've come here to Mont de Marsan with people of my liking".

Pepa de Benito

Inés Bacán

From Lebrija to Utrera... with Alcalá in between. The triangle was sketched in the city of three rivers and many storms. A space, but also worldly and stylistic, voyage. If the cante had to be from the past, the baile - without losing its objective - had aimed towards contemporaneity. At this festival where he had never before performed, Javier Barón presented 'Notas al pie' ('Footnotes'), a medium-format, high-quality show in which the (creative) baile is clearly displayed. With the cantaores and the box drum to the left, the three strings to the right and Manuel Soler above, the Alcalá-born dancer began the baile from the non-baile. The bewilderment at the singing café is thick. Pepe de Pura and Juan José Amador alternate on cante, each one with their peculiar, beautiful timbre. The bulería is tucked backed in until it turns into a soleá. And that's when Javier Barón returns. Eminently esthetic baile, a bit free, very musical. Without visible seams, the seguiriya bursts in. The notes come out of the foot, the hands, the body... as an additional instrument. The guitars harmonizing delicately and the violin slicing thinly. Fighting against the disrespectful murmur of the audience, the music drifts towards tangos. Amador utters the lyrics with authority, tall, broken, and with no little effort. Space for the resounding caresses of Coronel, who in passing through the lands of Lebrija, now appears at the seaside through alegrías. Non-linear baile, taking up all the spaces and then some, very personal, not at all sensationalist. And everything with it goes in crescendo. Winning over the crowd is thus a question of constant pedaling... until communication is self-evident. One note: the lyrics from Guadiana's latest album are already collective common knowledge. The violin which takes the word, the guitar which takes the witness, Javier Barón who comes to do the utmost through bulerías. The aftertaste of the non-predictable, of the asymmetrical. An explosion of flavor as if it were unintentional. The virtuous show, for he who may see it. A standing ovation. From less to more. Less is more. From back to forward. From forward upward. From the local to the universal.

Javier Barón

magazine@flamenco-world.com