flamenco will never be the same for me. i have known about this second hand, but that is not a substitute for experiencing it.
flamenco has morphed into a lot of different things, and has evolved. but the core of it, the heart, is what I saw tonight. this is difficult to find, and difficult for a foreigner to see. a private party with families that have had this art passed down for generations, and for whom it is part of their everyday lives.
there was a bowl of salmorejo and a huge pot of gazpacho, and quite a few kilgrams of meat of all kinds that was barbequed over the course of ... many hours. there were about 20 - 30 people in the patio, and one little girl to entertain Mai and I and Miguel Funi's partner, Yukiko.
The little girl's grandmother is Ines Bacan, a stout lady, with an unusual soul. her art is subtle. I cannot move my eyes from her while she is singing, and the world pretty much stands still. on the outside she seems to react slowly, and be unphased to the point of indifference. there are very few people who i've seen sing like this. it seems like nothing else exists for her, and there is a direct line from the depths of her soul to her vocal chords. she doesn't sing loudly like many flamenco singers. it is one of the most pure things I've ever heard. she appears like a rock on the outside, but there are no walls around this lady's heart. her heart and soul seem like they would be washed clean and fresh as a child's, by the way painful things flow out freely. her "letras" (verses) are from her family, as were the letras of Miguel Funi. they are stories or outpourings of the heart that are personal. without knowing this, I felt during the evening, that their cante was actually alive, something I have never experienced listening to flamenco singers before. you cannot get the same idea from a CD, nor from a performer on a stage. something changes. also, these people don't just sing for anybody, at random parties. they sing in this way when they are in the house of extended family, with whom they are comfortable enough to do this all night, until the next afternoon.
the only reason the party stopped at 5 am was because Curro had to drive his girlfriend and her parents back to Moron. And Curro...Dios mio de mi alma (my new exclamation) It's possible that I might have heard somebody play guitar this well before but I don't think so. The kind of flamenco guitar that is popular (including with those in the flamenco world and its professionals) is beautiful. it is virtuoso often, and impressive, full of feeling, and worthy of solo performances. but the kind of guitar playing i heard last night is rare, and apart from the other. It's aim is not viruosity but "sentido" I don't think the english translation "feeling" comes close to what I have come to understand as sentido. It is an extreme sensitivity, in a split second, at times, to what the singer is singing in the moment. and the way flamenco is sung... this is an art worth more than virtuosity to me.
flamenco singing, dance and guitar consists of contrast. there are sudden stops and outbursts, and sweet, quiet sections, and the most violent, gut wrenching parts. then there is the 12/8 rhythm, which can take on quite a few different patterns of accents. the simplistic way flamenco is often done outside of spain requires accenting in a similar way with every group of 12. the only way that bulerias truly comes alive is that the pattern changes usually with the singing. this can be subtle, if you are trying to listen consciously and understand it mentally. if you simply feel it and respond with your body (clapping for example)... that is what this art is all about. this is not as easy as it sounds if you are from an anglosajone background, as it requires being in touch with yourself, your body, and not being inhibited.
Anyways, the guitar not only has to respond in split seconds to the singer changing the length of the phrase, but to sudden changes in volume, and to the overall but subtle rhythmic feel within the 12/8. Curro plays with the most unbelievable sentido, and seems like the reincarnation of Diego del Gastor, one of the greatest flamenco guitarists ever.
It seems like the best flamenco artists are those without big names. You will only arrive to hear about them when you plant your feet in andalucia and talk to people that have something to do with flamenco in a serious manner. The local festival in Lebrija, something renowned that has existed for decades, has come to be headlined by names that are big here in Andalucia, in the flamenco world. But even these people don't do flamenco like it used to be, living the culture in private family parties, and singing or playing with the kind of sentido I heard last night. That is something the people born inside this art tell me, and i've heard from others who know it well.
Last night I understood flamenco to be a way of life that is nearly lost. it is similar to a folk art form that has existed the world over: telling stories among close friends and extended family, before TV and before the ability to jump in a car and drive across a city in order to escape reality, change scenery or drink a glass of wine in a trendy and impersonal restaurant. that is what their singing is, but in andalucia it is done in an unbelievably compelling, rhythmic way, accompanied by guitar and all the people gathered clapping along as they are moved by the music and song (in a very specific way!) Along with this, what comes out naturally as the story moves them, is movement. in last night's fiesta, it was the singer himself who danced. the kind of dance that happens in fiestas is again not about technique, but sentido. it is a response to the story and rhythm, each movement containing subtlety and often humour.
Miguel Funi is a phenomenon. Concha's godfather, and godfather of her daughter as well, he is about 70. If you would rather partake with other human beings in something deep, but often funny, or even witty, if you would rather take pleasure in tranquility, and enjoying life and others without pressure, such that you could stay up all night just to be with them and joke around, or say what you really mean... if you prefer this to being "entertained" passively, with speed and hype and show of technical prowess, and slickness then you would understand Miguel as a phenomenon.
He uses all the flamenco cante (singing) techniques as though he is just playing with them; they roll out of him. the complaining, voice breaking thing that they do, the sudden changes in volume. he doesn't seem very serious about anything; there is a sly sparkle in his eye or a chuckle. But somehow it is food for the spirit. after a bunch of letras he gets inspired and gets up with his arms moving slowly, while snapping his fingers loudly, off the beat (exactly between main beats). then moves his feet slightly awkwardly but accurately marking the beat, and emphasises some part of his story with a humorous lunge or twist, and a flip of an arm. this isn't mean to look polished like a ballet dancer. it is an average person, but one who has this rhythm built into him, expressing himself freely. THAT is flamenco.
There were two others who sang twice, who were also awesome, and several people who were particularly vocal yelling out when the urge hit them, how "genio" (genuis) something was the guy singing or dancing just did, or yelling their name, or some of the other words or exclamations typical to flamenco, to encourage the singer.
Mai and I didn't know what to do with ourselves. We were practically beside ourselves loving it. She is a 21 year old Japanese girl, one of the cutest, sweetest, most awesome people I've ever met. Unusual in her knowledge of and appreciation for this little known, traditional and very un-showy part of flamenco, which is the only "real" flamenco for her. She understands much of the sentido, what is really going on here, and what is happening to me and her as we learn this, more quickly and profoundly than I do.
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