The cantaor invites audiences to "listen to this new album
from beginning to end, and to enjoy it"

Martín Guijarro. Seville, October 2003

"Just wait till you see what I've got for you next year - you won't believe it." He's just released 'Yo me llamo Juan' and El Lebrijano is already looking ahead to his next album. The veteran cantaor, who made a respected name for himself with discs like 'Encuentro' and 'Persecución', says he's still striving to "leave behind something decent for the history books" of flamenco. And with this mission in mind he launches his new recording, a carefree project on which he's joined by musicians such as Paco Jarana on guitar and Dorantes on piano. And at the same time he offers a tribute to the late percussionist Manuel Soler "because we hoped he'd be playing alongside us on this album, but it was not to be".

Before he got round to talking about 'Yo me llamo Juan', El Lebrijano took a moment to take a glance back at his artistic career. From one of the grand halls at Seville's Palacio de Exposiciones y Congresos, the venue chosen by his label to coincide with the World Flamenco Fair, he observes that "bear in mind that when I was sixteen I was already working with La Paquera - I've lived through all kinds of experiences and suffering. There've been good times, bad times and everything in between". Maybe this was a consequence of his tendency to always be one step ahead of the crowd: "When I've gone in search of new territory the cards were always stacked against me because I was out there in front. 'Palabra de Dios a un gitano' was misunderstood back then in those secretive times. Mairena was king back then, a figure to be worshipped and followed... the truth is, though, that I'm a disciple of his more than anyone."

Juan Peña, El Lebrijano (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Juan Peña concedes that "I'd moved on from that, I wasn't on that wavelength anymore." And that was to continue with 'Persecución', a disc that "even culturally enlightened gypsies sometimes had difficulty understanding. They asked who I thought I was to dish the dirt like that. And it caught people unaware, because some people knew about that stuff but nobody knew the exact dates it all happened, and nobody had documented the victimization of the gypsies. It was a risky project back then during the days of General Franco's regime - it was odd for a blond-haired gypsy to be dredging up the legacy of the Catholic Monarchs". And it cost him dear. El Lebrijano confirms that he "was discriminated against when it came to performing. Pulpón got me whatever gigs he could and helped me make ends meet." But he didn't give up. The cantaor from the Pinini dynasty is proud of the fact that "twenty years ago I made 'Encuentro', the first ever fusion of andalusí music with flamenco... Though really it's not so much fusion, it's only five centuries since the moors were banished, so the two kinds of music are really one and the same". And in spite of the critics, some of whom went as far as to say that "he's in with the north Africans - so he can't really sing", he concludes that "cante is there for whoever wants to turn their hand to it."

The son of Bernardo and María

On 'Yo me llamo Juan', El Lebrijano sings with confidence. The title refers to "a poem by my brother Pedro Peña which he read me one day when we were in the marshes of Doñana National Park, at a gathering". And the verses, which he recited there and then, "talk of our old house, of our father… it's a moment of reflection on our loved ones from the past." The fandango 'Vengo de Paimogo' is also noteworthy. He quips ironically that "Some say the best thing to come out of Huelva are the prawns", but goes on to express his love "of the many different types of music from Huelva". And he challenges "young people to delve deeper into the music Huelva has to offer - it can only lead to good things… Huelva goes a little unnoticed on the flamenco map, which is a big mistake." He explains that on the disc he "slipped in a few subtle references to the town of Paimogo and the wild mushrooms that grow there, and if people also feel an urge to visit the area and go eat the wild mushrooms, then we've killed two birds with one stone."

On this album there is a new adaptation of a popular folk song written by Lope de Vega and inspired by the river Guadalquivir: "I feel very strong ties to Sanlúcar, so the poem hit straight to my heart." So much so that he dreams "of retiring there someday," down there where the great river of the Andalusian Arabians flows into the sea. He also stops to mention "a really good bulería", 'Allí', by his nephew Dorantes: "He's so modest and the stuff my nephew writes are so good… He who is born a genius dies a genius. And he's still so young. When he let me have the song, his vocals were recorded over it and I suggested we left it just how it was, I wanted to do something cheeky like that, but he implored me not to, with a worried look on his face…" So he resisted. Then there are other tracks like the single 'Qué bonita' por tangos, whose video clip was shown at the launch, the foot-tapping bulería 'Jardinera' featuring the footwork and derbuka of Manuel Soler, a tanguillo called 'Niña, qué va a ser de mí', or 'Sinfonía', a traditional song set to a bulerías rhythm. This repertoire is the work of a team to which he's truly grateful - he declares himself "a person who without my friends and affection from my loved ones could not live."