Enrique
Morente leads the 2005 Caja Madrid Festival to ecstasy.
The only artist deserving a full night on the bill of the festival's
thirteenth edition was Enrique Morente. The reasons needn't
be pointed out in light of the crowd's reaction: ecstasy. The
Granada-born cantaor, having recently arrived after performing
in the United States with Tomatito, did a show with a curved
structure to please fans and strangers alike: prelude with group,
serious cantes with guitar and epilogue with group, poetry and
song. Accompanied by Manuel Parrilla on guitar, Bandolero on
percussion and Antonio Carbonell, Ángel Gabarre and Pepe
Luis Carmona on clapping and choruses, he began the performance
in impressive fashion. Everyone standing around in a circle,
rhythm games through bulerías. Next, the caña.
His voice pours out from above, sounding both old and new. Swinging
the cante, he came into cantiñas territory. The first
part of the soleá was godly. Just the right moment to
stay alone with the guitar. Ayeos with his personal trademark.
Taranta. The emotion skin-deep. And lyrics with an existential
message. “A qué tanto me consientes” (“You
let me do so much”). “Yo vuelvo por mis alas”
(“I'm back for my wings”). The beauty of creation.
He announces the seguiriya, but repents as he goes along: alegrías.
Even the ‘tirititrán’ is different. He utters
it slowly, caressing each word, tautening each part. The sonanta,
tailor-made. And the cantaor, free, forever fluttering over
the scheme. Now he does do the seguiriya. Tremendous. The ovation,
huge. The clapping forges the base for the guitar's "Lorcan"
weeping. The group is back once again. A final crescendo. Gentle
tangos. Jerez-style bulerías. An encore. Another circle,
but this time through tonás, with a rhythm study from
feet to clapping, from clapping to throats. In turns. Intertwined.
And in the middle, Enrique Morente. The Albéniz Theater
explodes. And another encore is shouted for. He takes a verse
by Manuel Machado in order to become a “decadent poet”.
The audience doesn't have to request it... there's a bonus track.
A poem by Nicolás Guillén to do a song “about
mestization, the intention to communicate with each other, to
be understanding”. It is ‘La canción del
bongó’, included on his latest album, ‘El
pequeño reloj’. With this manifesto, he puts the
final touch on a concert of the kind that go down in history.
