| Luis
Clemente, February 2000
The guitar of Manolo
Sanlúcar is pensive, with a silver-lined
forehead. His introverted guitar works around
emotion and turns schematic with nonconformist
rigor. On the hinge of the century he is an intimist
and a craftsman. His new CD, recorded with two
guitars, voice, and percussion, is made within
the "family" of Isidro Sanlúcar,
Carmen Linares, and Tino di Geraldo. It is clear
that he controlled the recording, and even wrote
the notes to the CD. But there is a trick to the
sound.
"Locura de Brisa y trino"
premiered in the last Bienal de Sevilla contest.
It has been eight years since his last recording,
and, abandoning symphonic works, he returns to
a schematic format in his arduous exploration
of flamenco. With his magic wand plugged into
the network of rhythms, he draws meandering paths
through a matrix-scale, like a master key to the
system of flamenco chord progressions.
"Any difficulty would provoke
her enthusiasm," he wrote about the participation
of Carmen
Linares. The guitar has freed itself from
the submission to the singer, and now the voice
submits to her, not without certain risk. The
first two tracks, a bit of soleá and taranto,
last 18 minutes. Four of the remaining six are
longer than five minutes. In these recordings
Sanlúcar no longer plays defined palos.
Alchemy. "A la puerta Federico
llama" is the title of the first track sung
in a recording that was made over a year. It is
as lively as the line that gives it its name:
"Pero mi amor busca pura / locura de brisa
y trino" (But my love searches for pure /
madness of breeze and trill). The line is from
"Normas" which Carmen sings sustained,
afflicted, and glorious, in several palos. The
recording deals with anguish and García
Lorca: "His verse is my refuge and from it
I am reborn each time that my anguish resurfaces,"
writes the guitarist in the notes to the CD. He
considers himself to be a flamenco monk and Lorca
to be a priest of his culture; he borrows from
the verse of "Diván de Tamarit"
and "Poeta en Nueva York" in his creative
unrest. We hear "El poeta pide a su amor
que le escriba," "Carta a doña
Rosita· set to alegrías in two versions,
and he uses "Gacela de amor desesperado"
for a granaína.
The direct maestro of new generations
such as Vicente Amigo and Juan Carlos Romero,
Sanlúcar is an isolated case in the Mercury
catalogue. His search for essences, at the age
of 54, is the result of his day-to-day doubts
and takes place on a pool of poetry with pastel-colored
alchemy.
More information:
Interview
with Manolo Sanlúcar, guitarist
Festival
de Mont de Marsan 2002. Manolo Sanlúcar
and Carmen Linares, ‘Locura de brisa y trino’.
Review and photos
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