Interview with José Valencia, Lebrija's cantaor

The powerful voice of José Valencia was on the verge of abruptly being silenced not long ago.  Once again a polyp made him take chances, all or nothing.  He’s been singing since the age of 7, and like he says, vocal technique is something flamencos don’t generally worry about.  The risk paid off and even expanded his vocal textures and gave him greater comfort as well.  But he’s not taking any chances.

He knows what he knows, and what he can sing.  For now, “Sólo Flamenco”, ‘only flamenco’.  That’s his motto and the identity that defines his recording debut on the market.  With a good three decades of work under his belt.

We’ve been hearing a lot about you, most of it good, especially from critics.  And yet you waited…or maybe it was because of that…
Well, ok.  There’s the satisfaction, the praise.  There were offers, but everyone wanted pop songs.  Things were insinuated that were against my principles, so I waited.  When I saw I could hold up the weight of my own record, I got down to work.  Although they were already saying good things ten years ago.

You’re labelled as a singer from Lebrija, representing an autochthonous style of singing.
You could have fooled me.  From my generation, I’m the only one actually.  So maybe that’s the reason.  As a professional, I now realize that, there’s no one else.  I was born in Barcelona and was there for eight years.  It’s not a long time.  Or at least not long enough to get a grasp of the surroundings.  But I began to sing in Barcelona with my uncle “José de Lebrija”.  The fact is, to be a flamenco singer in Lebrija and make a living there is very difficult.  You have to have a very high level or your own people run you into the ground.  They put the standard very high.  There’s Lebrijano, Funi, Pedro Peña, Malena, Manuel de Paula…  You can’t mess around.

Lebrija is quite a force to be reckoned with.
It’s true there’s sometimes a certain local chauvinism, and more so when in all these years there has been so much mixing of styles.  Most of the gypsies of Santiago have their family roots in Lebrija.  Also, many families have lived together in the gañanías, or collective living quarters for field workers…different ambiences that contributed to that mixing.  As you can imagine, there’s been a lot of mixing of genes, but there’s a different outlook.  Because Lebrija is a small town, while Jerez for example is a city.  That means a lot of things are seen differently, also as far as cante.

Getting back to your first answer, I’ve been mulling it over…just how much risk must you be expected to bear in order to bring out a recording?
Mostly, musically and psychologically.  Nowadays anyone, and I mean exactly that, anyone can make a record.  There are digital aids that tune the voice…  The hard thing is live performance.  And being aware of what you’re doing, knowing why you do it.  And if you don’t have a career path, and knowledge, and know how to be, that includes everything from knowing how to sing to knowing how to dress or walk…if you don’t have all that, forget about making it.  It’s something you achieve after years of experience, working with many artists, singing for dance…

When did you decide it was time?
Three years ago.  I said it’s now or never, and if I was going to stick my foot in it, it was time for that as well.  Like everyone else in the world.  I had the respect, the experience, the means…so I got down to business.  Now, after recording it over three times…

Three times?
Yes, the first time I didn’t like it and erased the whole thing.  In the middle of the second time, I developed a throat polyp and had to undergo an operation, so it was back to square one.  And on the third try we finally got it.

I imagine it was a risky operation, or at least scary.
I saw the specialist, and he said I had to stop singing, rest and prepare for the operation, which entailed the risk of never being able to sing again.  But it came out right, I found my natural register and acquired confidence.  So I recorded again, this time the final take.  And then, a half a year looking for a record company until I happened upon Cambayá Records, which permitted me to be where I am.

No commercial concessions, it’s all orthodox flamenco singing.
Any “concessions” so to speak, were to fans of flamenco, you couldn’t expect anything less.  I just laid down my stuff, and everyone knows what it’s about.  And that’s that.

With all the styles you dominate, it seems like a limited debut with only nine cantes.  How does a seasoned professional like yourself make the selection?
I’ve always liked to study and investigate.  I’m naturally curious.  In addition to the search for little-known cantes, I wanted the feeling of my town to be on display, like in the romance or the cantiñas de Lebrija.  I also wanted the record to have a Mairena feel, and it ends with a wink to the maestro in the form of a toná.

I also paid tribute to Cojo de Málaga, who was a singer I’ve always liked, and in the taranta and malagueña there are things of his.

There’s a lot of history in this recording.  One day at a gas station I saw a tape with material of “El Pena”, junior.  Right there, and nobody cared.  I listened to the “tangos del balcón”, and a lightbulb came on inside my head.  These tangos are really fast tientos…with a specific feel…incredible.  So no one can say I didn’t include anything commercial [laughter].

You also had your own ideas about the guitar.  
Just as in everything, I had no doubts about this.  I was fortunate enough to be alongside Juan Requena, my right-hand man, coproducer and guitarist…he took care of these things.  The production was carried out in friendship, professionalism and with high standards.  The guitarists are all wonderful, but that’s not what it’s about.  And they deserved to be heard, in that sense this is a different kind of record.

Was it because you didn’t like what you’d done, or just to change and experiment?
Because there are a lot of guitarists around.  Like me, they have great things to say.  Juan Requena, Salvi, Eugenio Iglesias, Parrilla…although the latter is more highly considered now.

And now you’ll take some time to reflect?
No…it’s a time to keep recording, now that I’m in this loop I’m not going to stop.  It’s all about expressing flamenco ideas.

So you consider yourself well broken-in.  It’s been many years singing for dancers…
Yes, it definitely prepares you.  Like I said, even in how to dress and walk.  You have to be an artist, and look like one.  Anyone who’d have seen Manolo Caracol in the street and didn’t know him, you can be sure they’d take note and wonder who that person was.  It’s not that easy to sit in a chair on stage.  Just like it’s not the same thing to sing for a dancer as in another format.  Sometimes people give you pointers, or maybe you see things on your own.  And you better pay attention because if not, you won’t last long.

Dancers have been very enriching for my cante.  Joaquín Grilo showed me how to bring out incredible things.  Andrés Marín develops his shows in a way that distinguishes him from others.  Eva Yerbabuena…  I also learn a lot from doing things with theater companies…  In the end, you have no choice but to get into everything you possibly can in order to bring it all together into who you are.

You mentioned about the difference…what you personally want as a singer.  That you don’t want to sound like anyone else, or follow a specific path.  Why don’t you like what you see?
I’m not going to delve into this.  But mark my words, this economic situation is going to separate the men from the boys.  There’s going to be some serious paring-down to see who makes it and who doesn’t.

So people aren’t singing better than ever?
No, not at all.  The best era was the golden era, from about 1910 and successive decades…I mean, you’ve got Pastora, Vallejo, Niño Gloria…and now we’ve got a bunch of brick-layers, no doubt about it.  Comparisons are always difficult.  But that era of creation and growth…nothing can compare in knowledge, quantity, quality, commitment.  No matter how you look at it, it was an explosion of flamenco.

Before, they were much more modern.  Now we imitate, we recreate what’s already done, and not even that well sometimes.  In those times they were just discovering flamenco.  And starting with Chacón and Manuel Torre, that’s when everything began.  Based on that, later generations built solid things, because even the communication was better, more direct, in person.  It’s very difficult to create and evolve, it takes big personalities.

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