Interview with Manuel Morao

Manuel Moreno Jiménez 'Manuel Morao' (Jerez de la Frontera, 1929) is the patriarch of the guitar-playing dynasty that began with his father El Morao and was carried on by his nephew Moraíto, the latter's son Diego del Morao and the late brother of Manuel, Juan Morao. He has accompanied the most representative singers of his town, notably Terremoto and la Paquera, in addition to Manolo Caracol and la Perla de Cádiz among many others. Manuel is the most outstanding disciple of the legendary guitarist Javier Molina who is credited with having created the Jerez sound of flamenco guitar that the Moraos have so faithfully maintained.

«'New flamenco' is just a way of saying that it has nothing to do with flamenco»

On a warm Sunday afternoon in September, Manuel Moreno Jiménez, 'Morao' is waiting for me at one of the outdoor tables of his regular hangout, a cafeteria on the Calle Larga in the heart of downtown Jerez. He is sipping chamomile tea and has the bearing of a patriarch. Dressed in gleaming white which sets off the intense cinnamon color of his skin, his abundant gray hair is carefully coiffed and he is holding a metal-tipped cane that he uses to punctuate his declarations, tapping the sidewalk like a telegraph operator with an urgent message…

Manuel, what do you think about today's flamenco as compared to the flamenco of forty years ago?
Today's flamenco has nothing to do with flamenco. If we want to talk about the flamenco of forty years ago as flamenco, then what we have today isn't flamenco any more…it's something else. The thing is, this word 'flamenco' is for marketing purposes, and that's why they keep using it, because today's flamenco is closer to South American music or any country's fusion, than to flamenco. The flamenco that I understand to be flamenco is that which I have lived and carry inside me, and that's what I was brought up with.

Manuel Morao con Estela Zatania

Are you talking about what they call fusion, or flamenco in general?
The singers, the guitarists, the dancers…everything…every single thing….it's all included. In the world of marketing everyone is interested in selling something, so they all fall into the same trap and do fusion or something with outside musical influences, because it's reached a point that the flamenco that's being sold nowadays, and I repeat, it seems more like some other kind of music than flamenco. All that stuff about «new flamenco», that's something they dreamt up, because all these groups of flamenco pop, flamenco salsa, flamenco what-have-you, all these kinds of 'flamenco' have come together because everyone is saying that they have to give a new name for this music but there's no guarantee of being able to continue selling if they don't call it 'flamenco', so that's why they took «new flamenco», but «new flamenco» is just a way of saying that it has nothing to do with flamenco.

Whether anyone likes it or not, flamenco comes from the gypsies of lower Andalusia, between Seville and Cádiz. Then it gets mixed in with Andalusian song and folklore and flamenco is born. The gypsies' music isn't folklore, it's an ethnic music. So that's the birth of flamenco. Because before, like sixty years ago, they didn't call gypsy singing 'flamenco'…they called it 'gypsy singing'. But nobody wanted to know anything about this gypsy singing. Afterwards they started calling it «cante grande» and that's when it began to get commercialized, and then, «flamenco».

«All these 'flamencologists' we have today, it's as if the world begins and ends with Silverio».

Manuel con Juan Morao en 1960

In the last century, when the singers of that era learned from outside influences, wasn't that 'fusion', even though they might have called it something else?
In the first place, in the last century no one wanted to know anything at all about the gypsies, neither their singing nor their dancing. It was a hermetic phase, an era that was closed and no one knew anything because they just weren't interested, neither the intellectuals, nor the politicians, nor people in general. Then, the first one, because the first guy, a non-gypsy, who became interested in gypsy singing was Silverio [Franconetti], and now you'd think that Silverio invented gypsy singing if you read Blas Vega and many others. All these 'flamencologists' we have today, it's as if the world begins and ends with Silverio. You know what I call the flamencologists? «The members of the kettle club»…always dipping their spoons in the pot…wherever there's a pot, that's where the flamencologists are. [He laughs out loud]. So ever since flamenco came out of this era of being reserved to the gypsy families, the singing started to become adulterated and people started saying it was being prostituted…and it was true! Now when this began, there was a minimal amount of adulteration, but now it's the other way around.

«In those days that thing about 'in Jerez everyone
knows how to sing and dance', it was true!»

What was Jerez like in your youth?
In terms of flamenco, and in terms of the gypsy singers, Jerez was the capital of the world back then. The thing is, the world was much smaller then than it is now. Jerez was the capital of the world because that was where this ethnic music of the Andalusian gypsies was born. The gypsies came from outside, from India or from wherever, and here they congregated and created a product with all the musical influences they had experienced first hand in Andalusia.

At what age did you begin to play guitar?
I started playing at seven, going on eight.

What guitarists were there back then?
Well, there were many people. There were guitarists with a tremendous personality, which is precisely what has been lost: the personality. Nowadays there are good guitarists, but they are very technical, standardized…everyone plays the same. Technique-wise they play very well, but none of them has a characteristic style.

And what was the atmosphere like? Were there flamenco fiestas?
The fiesta was a way of life in those times. The neighborhood where the gypsies lived – we were still concentrated in one area of the city – in every gypsy house there was a fiesta every day. So naturally, the «school» was in the street and in the family.

Were there paid fiestas, for wealthy landowners and the like?
All that with the fiestas for the upper class came later on. There was a sector of musicians who lived from that and we went to work wherever they called us. It might have been a private party for some rich person, or at a country inn, or cabarets…

When you were starting out, what singers were there who made a living from the 'cante'?
Oh well, there was quite a string of extraordinary singers, for example El Gloria was still alive as well as La Niña de los Peines, Tomás Pavón… And in Jerez there was a group of people who devoted themselves to the art, but there was also a very important sector which was the non-professional gypsies who were are good, or even better than the major professionals. In those days that thing about 'in Jerez everyone knows how to sing and dance', it was true! But it's not like that any more.

When did bulerías begin to have the importance it has nowadays?
The importance the bulería started to have, is like everything else that starts becoming popular.

«It's not that I don't like anyone these days….it's
that everything has become uniform at all levels»

But when you were young, was bulerías such a big thing?
Of course…among those of my generation we've always sung and danced por bulería because it was already a rhythm that was created here, and that was born here, but with influences from other cantes and other rhythms. All that comes from the soleá for example, which led to the bulería por soleá, and then we saw the emergence of bulerías more for dancing, which is faster.

What flamenco singer would you consider «the» singer, with all that you've heard?
Well, there've been many…Terremoto was one of the last….that man, everything that he sang was pure feeling, pure communication. There were others like him, and there were many that went before him…nowadays there isn't anyone.

No one at all?
It's not that I don't like anyone these days….it's that everything has become uniform at all levels. These days, since the standards have been lowered, anyone is a singer. That's why I don't like it, because if you present me to one of these people as an amateur, well then I like it. But if you tell me he's a star, then I don't like it any more, because to be a star you need certain qualities that they don't have…not a one.

How do you see the future of flamenco?
Until recently I viewed it with optimism. I had the hope that someone would come along and there would be a rebirth…but of course, what's lacking is artists, because when an artist is born, these are the ones who make and develop the art, without ever losing the roots and without losing the sense of what it's about. So the bad luck that we have is that it's been a long time since any artist has been born, no important voices, because in order to be a real star, the first thing is that you have to have a great voice to start with…with quality, and attributes, and sound, and this doesn't exist. All the voices are synthesized by the mikes…you take the mike away from any of them and they don't even know how to get started.

«We all drank from the same source…it used to be the families here fed upon each other…it was the sap and the root that returned and evolved»

But won't there always be the families?
The bad thing about all this is that before we were all here where there's still a spark, and very little is left of that spark. It's that there was a nucleus, and we all drank from the same source, because it used to be the families here fed upon each other, and it was the sap and the root that returned and evolved and for that reason the cante was always in flux. That's why the solea of Juaniquín, the soleá of Tío José de la Paula, the soleá of Frijones, if you analyze these cantes, they are all communicated….it's all the same thing but with subtle modifications and personality. But not today….today the same flamenco you hear in Madrid, you hear in Seville, and the same that you hear in Pamplona you hear in Alcalá. There's no difference.

Is the compás of Jerez different from that of other towns?
Yes. The compás of Jerez has always been different from other towns. But now, even that is becoming uniform, due to the deformation of the rhythms and the music. Just last night I was listening to a girl on TV, I won't mention her name, but they said she was singing tangos….and it was a rumba! that's how it goes now…

«The young people, they understand each other…it's me who doesn't understand…it's like they're speaking Greek…

What do you think about how guitarists accompany nowadays, with all the new technique, how well do they accompany?
Well, accompaniment is very hard, although it looks easy, it's very difficult. The thing is, the person who knows how to sing is on the same level as the guitarist, so they understand each other. But if you get someone who knows how to sing, and you stick them with one of today's guitarists, there's no 'conversation' at all because they're not speaking the same language. But the young people, they understand each other…it's me who doesn't understand [laughter]…it's like they're speaking Greek…

Tell me about your group…
I started Gitanos de Jerez in 1987. That same year I set up my business, my own show. The first show was «El Flamenco….esa forma de vivir» [Flamenco….that way of life] and the people were very enthusiastic because it was something completely pure and totally authentic. Perhaps for that reason it wasn't as successful as it should have been, because nowadays you have to sell the packaging and not the content.

A young gypsy boy stops not far from our table and starts singing bulerías to pass the hat for small change. Manuel Morao gestures toward the tape recorder indicating that the interview has come to a close, relaxes visibly and summons the waiter for another chamomile tea…