Interview with Paco del Pozo. Flamenco singer. cantaor

Interview
with

Paco
del Pozo

“My finest hour is yet to come”

by Manuel Moraga

“My mother says I’m impossible
because I wake up with my eyes still swollen from sleep
and I’m already singing, and at night I go to
bed singing” says Paco del Pozo, a young but experienced
singer to keep an eye on. On May 20th he performs at
Madrid’s Teatro Español and on the 30th
of this month he sings in Aranda at the first Festival
Flamenco de la Comunidad de Madrid. With this background
we decided to get to know this flamenco singer of the
21st century who wishes he’d lived through the
best flamenco of the 20th.

I tried to set up an appointment
with you in the morning, but you said you were at the
Conservatory. Do you work there?
I’m at the Conservatorio de Danza Española,
where young people go to study, and one of the subjects
is flamenco. Just as in the class of classical dance
there’s a pianist, in the flamenco class there’s
a guitarist and singer. I’m the singer for the
Conservatory.

Speaking of schools, do flamenco
singers study their craft? What’s that like from
a singer’s standpoint?
We study a lot. Well, maybe some more than others. Any
self-respecting singer who loves flamenco loves to study
because he or she is listening to the music of choice
so it’s no sacrifice. How do we study? Well, it
used to be more difficult. When I started out it was
harder than now, and twenty years before that, harder
still. Now there are cante schools: Amor de Díos
in Madrid, in Sevilla too there’s a foundation
where the maestro José de la Tomasa gives classes.
It’s easier nowadays, we have it served to us
on a platter. When I started out I studied from records,
and thirty or forty years earlier it was all oral transmission,
which is how flamenco was always learned. Now, with
electronic aids, everything is much easier.

“If you really love
flamenco and are proud of it, you can’t criticize
an artist or run them to the ground, because it’s
counter-productive”.

Right, but when you listen
to a record and let’s say you decide on a certain
line of a certain cante done by a certain singer, what’s
the next step? Do you have a place to rehearse? Do you
rehearse at home? Do the neighbors complain? What’s
the process?
[He laughs]. To tell the truth, when I latch on to something,
I just don’t quit. I go singing it all day, all
over the place. In the shower, everywhere. No matter
what I do, I’m singing it and setting the interpretation.
This is the process: listen a great deal to what you’re
going to learn, listen for the most subtle shading and
then sing it over and over until it takes on my personality,
or at least, that’s what I try for.

Do you devote a lot of time
to studying?
Yes, I do. I mean, there are times when I’m feeling
lazier or less receptive or whatever you want to call
it, and I hardly do anything. Then, you just listen.
But suddenly another receptive period comes and you’re
more motivated, you absorb more and more quickly and
then I could easily spend the whole day on one thing.
My mother says I’m a drag because I wake up with
my eyes still swollen with sleep and I’m singing,
and at night, I go to bed singing. Really that’s
what studying is for me. You don’t need to sit
down with a book to be studying. That’s my way
of studying, but I also do “laboratory work”
as I call it, combing through old recordings to extract
special things, maybe an obsolete verse, etc…

Not long ago we saw you at
the Centro Cultural de la Villa in Madrid, and very
soon you’re at the Teatro Español as part
of an interesting new series called the 1st Muestra
de Flamenco Joven, young flamenco – and also the
SUMA Festival Flamenca of the Comunidad. Do you vary
your performances a lot, or do you have a pattern?
It all depends on the moment, thanks to the studio I
told you about I’m a singer, maybe not complete,
but getting there. I love cante and have learned a lot,
I’ve got a wide range of repertoire. So I tend
to vary the content, although obviously you wouldn’t
notice a big difference in the space of a week for example.
Then there are times when I more or less build repertoire.
For example, I might open a recital with malagueña
and maybe I change the verse once in a while. But after
a time I get bored with those cantes and I change them.
Logically, if I sing twice in the same town I make an
effort not to repeat myself, it’s only natural.

“Both the intransigent
peña member and the fashionable elitist are dangerous
people”

Cultural circuits are programing
more and more flamenco, but it’s nearly always
the same people. What’s needed so that flamenco
fans can enjoy the entire range of artists involved
in this?
You’re absolutely right. All the festivals are
made up of the same names and I don’t understand
it. I guess it’s because the promoters are taking
a chance and they go for the sure thing, but that’s
no good for flamenco, it’s good for the show and
maybe for spreading the word “flamenco”
around, but there’s very little opportunity for
up-and-coming performers. In my opinion it would make
more sense to put together a program with an established
star and a few newcomers. When I say “newcomers”
I mean people who because of their youth or because
they’re beginning, aren’t yet recognized.
It’s very difficult. Then, there’s another
line as far as artistic recognition, which is where
I am, and it’s almost worse, because number one
is always number one and they’ll always be there.
Newcomers can also make it because there’s not
much money and they accept work in order to make a name
for themselves. But those of us who are stuck in a kind
of no-man’s-land don’t have it easy at all,
because you can’t (and shouldn’t) charge
the price of a beginner, nor can you charge like a recognized
artist. I’m talking about recognition, aside from
artistic value, because a lot of newcomers have sufficient
quality that they ought to be substituting some of the
established artists, and there are some stars who don’t
deserve to be at the top at all.

Do you think there may not
be enough alternative venues, in addition to big theaters,
where, like you say, promoters don’t have to risk
so much, more lively places, more dynamic, that would
give artists more opportunity to put forth their ideas
to see whether or not they go over, to be able to grow?
Absolutely, although we’re now in transition from
theaters to peñas or tablao. But you miss that
intermediate level. I don’t know what might be
the solution, but let me tell about one example, which
is Casa Patas, a flamenco tradition, at 18 I sang on
a program with Carmen Linares, Indio Gitano, someone
else I can’t remember and myself. That’s
gone. Casa Patas only hires dancers to attract tourists,
period. We singers no longer have that space which was
so perfect. And there were several places like Casa
Patas that no longer exist. All there is, is the tablao
and the theater, in that sense it’s very bad.
Who has to make the first move? Very hard to say.

“Artists need to have more leeway, to be free
to express themselves, but at the same time you have
to demand something from them”

Talking about flamenco peñas,
there’s one in your name. Could you do a profile
of what you consider a “good flamenco fan”?
What do you think are the requirements?
A good flamenco-follower is someone who loves this art
and does everything possible to benefit it and to satisfy
his or her own pleasure: attend concerts, buy recordings,
know how to listen when at a show, not always go to
see the same people… You have to really love flamenco.

Do you ever have the feeling
that in these peña circuits there’s sometimes
a kind of closed attitude, that they don’t want
to know anything about aesthetics other than that which
they defend to the death?
Of course. When I say a good flamenco fan has to love
flamenco, I mean it in the broadest sense. You can’t
put up barriers. If you really love flamenco and are
proud of it, you can’t criticize an artist or
run them to the ground, because it’s counter-productive.
And yet, it’s the norm, not only in flamenco peñas,
but elsewhere. The same thing happens in football or
bullfighting. It seems if you root for Madrid, that
makes you a traitor or something. It’s wrong,
if you really and truly love football, that’s
not how it should be. Look, I’m from Madrid and
I love watching Ronaldinho. I think it has to be that
way. Artists need to have more leeway, to be free to
express themselves, but at the same time you have to
demand something from them. We have to give more of
ourselves, broaden our knowledge, give the flamenco-follower
what he wants. That’s in the flamenco peñas,
then in the theaters there’s that thing of being
fashionable, people go to see flamenco because it’s
the “in” thing so of course, they go looking
for the big names. Both the intransigent peña
member and the fashionable elitist are dangerous people.

“The Madrid
audience is refined”

I mentioned about the peñas
because we were talking about that, but about your observation,
do you think it could also be applied to a certain type
of critic who perhaps judges according to personal taste
rather than the worth of the artist?
Of course, because it’s hard not to like someone
singing if you like flamenco the way I do. You might
like some more than others, or maybe someone combines
better with your personality. Look, right now I’ve
got records of Chocolate in the car, and he’s
the most “rancid” singer the world has known,
but I’ve also got Escacena, who was a songbird,
and I love them both, although personally, because of
my voice, I’m more drawn to Chocolate. Even so,
I listen to Escacena’s vidalita and it makes me
cry. People should enjoy flamenco, not criticize it.

Some flamenco artists who
come to Madrid complain the audiences are somewhat cold.
As a man from Madrid, do you agree with that?
I think the Madrid audience, more than cold is refined.
They’re cultured. Although actually here in Madrid
there are all kinds of audiences. The other day at the
Centro Cultural de la Villa, the first two rows were
all people with blonde hair and blue elyes. Obviously
it was a knowledgeable audience, but starting from the
second row it was a little bit of everything. But what
I see is the refined quality, they’re quiet and
respectful, they respect the artist, when there’s
an important presentation they give a standing ovation.
That is very valuable. Other audiences may be warmer,
but I wouldn ‘t say Madrid audiences are cold,
I don’t think that’s accurate.

“From Madrid,
no flamenco in the family and non-gypsy… It’s
not easy for people to place their bets on me”

How
does Paco del Pozo see himself within the world of flamenco?
I am a person who’s always had ups and downs.
I know this is a long-term commitment and I’m
not too concerned about being considered the best or
the worst. I know this is little by little and I try
not to take any false steps. I’m basically a humble
person, never pretending to be what I’m not, on
the contrary, I love this art and I love learning about
it. I think Paco del Pozo’s best moment, both
artistically and on the popular level, has yet to come.
There seem to be moments when you’re doing really
well, but then suddenly you don’t get concerts.
Then there are moments when you’re even worse,
but suddenly you start to get calls, and you never know
when a decisive moment is going to come. All I know
is that moment has yet to come and I’m prepared
for when it arrives. For the moment I’m in this
middleground which is hard to maintain.

Changing the focus of the
question a bit, how do you think the world sees Paco
del Pozo?
That’s a very difficult question for me. I can
tell you the impression I get from up on stage, from
where I can percieve I’m a flamenco singer who
transmits, for better or for worse, I don’t leave
anyone indifferent, and the audience is divided, detractors
and admirers. In actual fact, it’s not easy being
a follower of Paco del Pozo because of today’s
concept of a singer: I’m from Madrid, no flamenco
in the family and non-gypsy. It’s not easy for
people to place their bets on me, although some do,
like Félix Grande, who when he saw me said he
thought I was going to be one of the most important
singers.

“The romance
of cante has been lost”

In this rat-race your profession
entails, who have been or are now your main supporters?
Without a doubt, my parents. They’ve been tireless
fans of mine. I’ve sung in many countries and
stages, and very rarely have they not been there. They’ve
supported me in every possible way: economically, for
my record, on tour, during the hard moments… In everything,
it’’s always been my parents. Artistically
I have to thank my maestros: Pepe Pucherete, Paco de
Antequera, Manolo Molina, these were my first guitarists
and first maestros. And later on, in all honesty, whatever
I achieved, with rare exceptions, was not by virtue
or outside support. I never had a patron of any kind.
I earned every bit, little by little, with my family’s
support of course.

What singer has moved you
to tears?
No one in particular, but there are some verses that
get to me at certain moments, a turn of voice…
Things I’ve heard along the way from Camarón,
Chocolate, La Niña de los Peines, listening to
records, that vidalita of Escacena’s, Cepero,
Manuel Torre… I think every one of them has provoked
a tear at one moment or another. I’ve been a cante-lover
since the age of eight, so it’s been a lot of
years. I’ve had enough time to cry with all of
them.

“Within one
year I’d like to have my second record in the
street”.

If you hadn’t been
a flamenco singer, what would you have liked to be?
I might have followed in my father’s footsteps,
he was always a salesman, and I’ve even done that
too at the same time as singing. I wasn’t too
bad at it because I think I’m good with people.
But it wouldn’t be a real calling. Flamenco is
my only calling and it’s been too strong to change
for anything else.

And if you’d been a
salesman, would you still have sung, if only for your
own family?
I think so, but it would have been the biggest frustration
of my life. I’d have spent my whole life telling
myself I would have made it. Regretting it for the rest
of my life. And it actually makes me sad, because I
think there are a lot of people who got waylaid along
the path. There are difficult roads and unfortunately
some people have to take them. I would have felf I was
a failure, for sure.

Is there anything left of
the flamenco lifestyle? Do you get together with guitarists
and singers to jam, or does each one go home to his
own house when work is done? How does a flamenco singer
live in the twenty-first century?
Everything is much more closed in that respect. The
other day José de la Tomasa came to sing in Madrid
and we were talking. Both of us would like to have been
born many years earlier because the romance of cante
has been lost. People are wary if you ask about a certain
verse. You say to someone “hey, I love that thing
you sang”, because I do that, and they’re
suspicious. But it’s exactly the same for any
kid singing for dance at Casa Patas and who is learning
from a maestro: people hide things, they’re cagey,
when the greatest thing in the world is to share, to
continue the oral transmission, which is how cante was
formed and how the learning process has continued. But
now, you sing your show, take the money and head straight
home. It’s hard to catch a good fiesta. Sometimes
four or five of us get together and when you least expect
it, the singing starts, but it’s not that common.
It used to be some singer would record, he’d call
in other singers of the moment and they all went to
the studio to record together. That no longer exists.
We’re too wary of one another.

And speaking of recordings,
do you have any project in mind?
Before too long I’d like to record. I’ve
got almost the whole record in my head, but the whole
thing is a little daunting. No one has offered a recording
contract, so it’s doubly difficult to go out on
a limb. But it’s in my head and I’ll eventually
do it. Within one year I’d like to have my second
record in the street.