Teresa Sánchez Campos “La Cañeta de Málaga”
by Estela Zatania
photos: Estela Zatania y La Cañeta collection
el Conquero y el Perché,
el Perché de la Cañeta
y el Conquero de José
Thislittle verse appears on a framed poster from the nineteen-seventiesthat hangs in the living room of flamenco singer José Salazar, winner of two prizes at the first Córdoba contest in 1956, husband and artistic companion for nearly a half-century of Teresa Sánchez Campos, la Cañeta de Málaga as she is known to flamenco fans. The lady is an inspired, instinctive, explosive, authentic singer and dancer, a “festera” in the noblest sense of the word.
With a professional history that spans decades it’s nearly impossible to name any major flamenco artist with whom she hasn’t shared a stage. Cañeta worked her way through the heyday of tablaos, from beginning to end, taking advantage of the experience to invent a unique and unmistakable artistic persona, far removed from the gentle sweetness we associate with Málaga flamenco, neither is it Jerez or Sevilla style, but pure “Cañeta”, a savory mix of voice and dance all passed through the filter of her own personal vision in each performance, spiced with colorful dresses, flowers, ruffles and polkadots, the very antithesis of the currect glacial aesthetic of black upon black. Exhibiting boundless energy on stage, the years appear to slough away as communication is established with her audience.
This is a woman who has seen and experienced the best of flamenco and knows how to deliver her own personal vision free of additives. She doesn’t know what “fusion” means because she is fusion herself, cultivating a festive repertoire with careful attention to the verses, some old classics and other original ones often based on the most current flamenco artists such as Capullo or Remedios, even Spanish pop singer Bisbal, old traditional songs, folklore or detergent jingles. She is the daughter of La Pirula, creator of the famous Málaga tangos popularized by la Repompa, but she is proud of having her own unique personality.
In 2000 la Cañeta was named “Cantaora del Año “ [singer of the year] by the Mesón El Chinitas and in 2005 she was awarded the Medalla de Honor del Ateneo de Málaga. The day after the inauguration of the first edition of the Málaga en Flamenco festival we had a long conversation at her home in Marbella. She had plenty to say, it was hardly necessary to ask any questions so I let her speak…
ARTISTIC IDENTITY
I go it alone onstage, it’s not a “fin de fiesta” and head for the door. I defend my name and my roots. Where am I going to work? How am I going to fit in with a star’s show? Not for all the money in the world, I just don’t want it. I prefer my own three or four things and that’s what makes me happy, I don’t want problems. I communicate with audiences on my own terms, we can’t all be the same person, everyone can’t be Lola Flores or Carmen Amaya, each artist has something special to offer, and that identity has to be respected, because I tell you, I’m not one of these ones who’s listening to records all day, I’m always, improvising, improvising, improvising, and that’s not easy! Not everyone realizes it, they don’t get it or know how to appreciate it, but if you don’t let me improvise, what kind of artist am I? Am I supposed to follow your script? Twenty minutes, a half hour? No, I just can’t, this isn’t what it’s about my dear. Go and do it yourself if you think it’s so easy! These people nowadays spend their lives in the rehearsal studio, all of them, Canales, Cortés, Sara Baras, they’re all prefabricated! I get up there on stage and “here I am folks!”, no one does that any more nowadays, and on top of everything, they don’t give you an inch, but thank God audiences always react to what I do, it never fails…the people really love what I do and that’s all that matters.
With Málaga en Flamenco now I’ve got five shows with el Pipa, in Vélez-Málaga, Estepona, Ronda, Torremolinos, then back to Málaga with Matilde Coral and Chano, the whole province of Málaga, then in each province an artist from that province, in Seville, José de la Tomasa, in Jerez, Capullo, etc…
HER MOTHER ‘LA PIRULA’’
No one knows the first thing about my mother… I can tell you what little I remember, because I was very small, she died young and each year on the anniversary of her death Gonzalo Rojo writes an article about her. When mamá died I was only ten or eleven, so I didn’t see much of her dancing and singing, but of course, I knew she was good because they always called her for the gypsy fiestas in Málaga. I never went with her, just once when we went to Madrid to present a recording with Antonio el de la Calzá, the great fandango singer we used to have, so we went to Madrid and she caused a sensation, with just a few cantes she did, short and sweet but outstanding, and that’s how she got by, always a very independent woman..
My grandmother told me how La Niña de los Peines took her in the group after seeing her in Málaga, she hired my mother who was just a delight to hear and watch, a portrait of flamenco art, and a great voice, not so rough and strong like mine, different, more tranquil, more “Pastora”…she wasn’t me and I’m not her, if you know what I mean. So what I have of my mother is basically what I’ve learned through others, but they’ve got it so overworked I prefer to do my own things although I do some of her material, but they do it so much it’s burnt out because all they know is the tangos of La Pirula, and the only letras they do for bulerías are of La Pirula. The way it goes is this, la Repompa had a big sister who’s still alive, Paquita, and she did hear my mother and picked up the repertoire. La Repompa, the famous one who died so early, was younger than me and could never have heard my mother although she knew her, so the younger one got the tangos from the record her older sister made in Madrid. I’ve also got a brother who lives in Barcelona and is delightful “por fiesta”, Tiriri de Málaga is another relative and my father was El Cañeto, but I couldn’t tell you what the nickname means.
“My internal clock tells me when to start and when to stop, I need my air-space, you’re up there creating, seeking out each little thing…that’s why you never see me the same twice”
BACKGROUND
When I was in Madrid it was Repompa who spoke about me to Pastora Imperio at Corral de la Morería, that’s how I got in, because Pastora Imperio had known my mother and when she hired Repompa she asked: “Didn’t Pirula have a daughter?” “Yes Pastora, she sings and dances quite well and she’s down there in Málaga”. “Well call her”. And I went to Madrid in ‘56 or ’57 when the Corral had just opened, the grand opening was with Pastora Imperio dancing , Beni de Cádiz and Porrina…they each sang different alegrías for her, and the guitarist Doblones de Cádiz. There I was with all those people and I thought “Wow! this is great, this is for me!”. And little by little I got completely hooked. I was surrounded by the best artists. From Corral de la Morería I went to the Duende which was owned and run by Gitanillo de Triana and Pastora Imperio.
I never studied with anyone and they used to say “hey, you have to learn how to find the tones”, but I learned to sing in the cuadro, from the “jaleo”, the cheering and group singing. It was my husband who got me into singing, because I started out dancing and Farruco told me “there’s no one with footwork like yours”, but I wasn’t bad singing, and there weren’t all these women like there are today who sing and dance…there was La Bronce de La Línea and Adela la Chaqueta, no one else.
con Pastora Imperio
So there I was will all those tremendous artists…fourteen tablaos there were in Madrid, and all of them full every night, working at full steam, there was enormous interest in flamenco and first-rate artists…la Paquera, Farruco, ‘Grabiela’ Ortega, Rafael Ortega who was Manzanita’s father, Carmen Casarrubio, Bambino, el Montoyita, Pedro Montoya, Antonio Mairena, Terremoto, los Morao a la guitarra, el Chano, el Chocolate, Sernita, el Sordera de Jerez, Matilde Coral, Rafael el Negro, great ambience, that’s what I call roots! Not like today where everyone just wants to get to the top, there’s no comaraderie, just envy… That’s where Rocío Jurado started out in case you’re interested, she was singing things of Concha Piquer, also her alegrías, tientos… The solo artists were getting 1,250 pesetas a day, a king’s ransom!, and they had us all make recordings.
I learned a lot in the tablaos. I was twenty years old when I got to Madrid and stayed for twenty years. I was also in Zambra with all the greats that were there during the heyday: Bernarda, Fernanda, la Perla de Cádiz, el Culata, Pericón, Almadén, Manolo Vargas, Jarrito, Varea and dancers Paco Laberinto and Rosita Durán, they were all there back then.
I was also in another important tablao, Villarosa, with Chaqueta, Felipe de Triana, Luis el Compadre, Chaleco, the best of the best all making their living, traveling abroad. You didn’t go to Japan back then, but I traveled to the rest of the world from one end to the other. We went to France with Curro Vélez, to Santa Fe, New Mexico with Vicente Romero, to the New York World’s Fair with Manuela Vargas and José Salazar, we met in Madrid and were already married then. He’d been with Concha Piquer, always sang with the best, from that group Enrique Montoya and Rafael Farina became big stars.
In Madrid I ended up going with Antonio Gades, he was putting a show together and wanted someone who could sing and dance, and he took José as cantaor…Bogotá, the whole country of Ecuador, Buenos Aires, New York, México at the Rincón de Goya, Japan… Jarrito was the first to go to Japan, and soon afterwards we went, around 1968, today there’s twenty times more interest, but even back then it was happening, and they knew Mairena’s complete anthology, and all the malagueñas and cartageneras. We were there with la Tati, Duque…we were in Japan for one year and made three records while we were there, then we toured Germany with La Singla and made another record, with Juan Maya ‘Marote’ and Antonio Arenas.
RECORDING
The first recording I made was with guitarist Paco Aguilera, the “Miguelito” song, long before it became such a big hit when that group of veteran artists were doing it, I learned it from a Cuban guy. On the record my husband José sings some alegrías, fandangos de Huelva, each one did something different, Repompa is also on the record…it was Paco Aguilera who organized everything, that’s how it used to work, through the guitarists, the Colombia record company. I went on to record with Fernanda and Bernarda, Antonio Arenas was doing a lot of that then, and I made a solo record with the Zafiro record company. José was really at the top in those days, a well-rounded traditional singer who knew his job, but times change and what I do is different from him, his vocal chords are shot from singing so flamenco and so strong, but my thing is different, not only from what he does but from everyone, it’s something God willed, not better or worse than anyone else, just something that’s inside of me and has to come out, and nothing you can do about it. What I do wasn’t learned in Málaga because there’s none of this in Málaga as you know….ladies and gentlemen, I’m no backup artist for a short solo spot…my internal clock tells me when to start and when to stop, I need my air-space, you’re up there creating, seeking out each little thing, that’s why you never see me the same twice, you know that better than anyone.
THEIR OWN TABLAO
We had two tablaos in Marbella. We left Madrid and went to Marbella because the tablaos were washed up, many of them closed and the ones that remained were for the tourists, this was at the beginning of the seventies, it just wasn’t worthwhile any more. The first tablao we had was called Los Corrales and it was always full of people: ”…meet me Cañeta’s place!”, and Cañeta Cañeta, no one ever called it “Corrales”, but it was really nice, we did it up like a corral… The king’s father, Don Juan, came by four or five times and José had to stand guard in the doorway so no one would enter because the show was just for him. All the important people passed through, film directors, actors, politicians, bankers… The only regular performers were myself and José and a guitarist, people were always coming and going. Tomatito’s father brought him when he was just a boy, I brought Nano de Jerez… But we had to close because it was a ground floor in Puerto Banús, it’s not like today, there were just a couple of private houses and they couldn’t take the hell-raising, we used to finish up at six or seven in the morning, it was something else! They were on our backs all the time, it was impossible, the police came and threatened to close the place down so we had to leave.
con Rocío Jurado
con Burt Lancaster
So we set up another place out in the country and started all over again, and again it was a smashing success because José Banus used to send people there…Liza Minelli held a press conference there, so you can imagine what my place was like. We had a fantastic group of artists…. Anzonini, la Gallina, two sisters from Cádiz who were a delight, Nano de Jerez, el Extremeño, guitarist Rafael Alarcón. Then Lola Flores saw how successful we were and went to speak to Pilar Banús. She opened a tablao not far from mine and hired the most important artists of the moment, but she couldn’t compete with us because our place was very flamenco. She set hers up as a standard tablao show, but our format was more free-wheeling, people used to participate, one night Camarón and Paco de Lucía came by…they sang, played, danced, and at 2 in the afternoon the following day they were still there. People would come from jerez, from Tío Paula… It was a unique era, we made plenty of money, but then that too went bad, everything went downhill in Marbella and it wasn’t a fraction of what it had been. Then there was the tablao Pansequito as it was called, also nearby…they hired Camarón and Pansequito…but that couldn’t survive either…
THE CURRENT FLAMENCO SCENE
Nowadays there are things that aren’t bad, but mostly a lot of shouting with nothing behind it, I don’t know where we’re going, but let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, this is disappearing. Then if you dare to say so, they call you old-fashioned, but flamenco has no age, art has no birthdays, look, people always connect with what I do, so where’s the age? Thank God I have my audience, people know what I do and they like it. If I were born into these times I don’t know what I’d be doing, or even if I’d be a performer, I suppose I would, but in something other than flamenco…everything is changed…