More than «chocolate», somehow the color of his face always reminded me of cinnamon. «A clavito y canela me hueles tú a mí, el que no huele a clavo y canela, no sabe distinguir», the famous siguiriya verse says «You smell of cloves and cinnamon, and whoever doesn’t smell of cloves and cinnamon, cannot know what is worthwhile». Antonio Núñez «Chocolate» was one who knew what was worthwhile, and as far as the color of his singing, everyone seems to be in agreement: «black».
Text: Estela Zatania
Photo: Rafael Manjavacas
Born in Jerez, he’s to be buried in Seville, a fitting life story
for an artist with a foot in each of the two flamenco capitals and who
in 2001 declared “I feel like a Seville native”.
He left an ample discography, but no artistic heir. He embodied the memory
of Seville’s Alameda de Hércules, the heyday of Pastora Pavón,
Tomás Pavón and Pepe Pinto, and today the entire flamenco
world is in mourning because an important piece of the puzzle has disappeared.
When he was unable to appear at the fortieth anniversary of the Caracolá
Lebrijana due to his delicate health, we collected the following words
from some of the people he was to have performed with, unaware of the
fateful outcome that was to unfold the night of Tuesday, July 19th, 2005
when a flamenco era came to a close.
Chocolate, Pastora Pavón, Pepe Pinto
Manuela Carrasco: “I like my flamenco on the classical side, and more classic
than Chocolate, there hasn’t been anyone, nor will there ever be
another like him. The haunting quality of his voice is unforgettable –
it represents the golden era, a time that is gone forever. Ever since
I was a young girl I’ve worked with him at festivals, and the dream
of my life was that he should sing siguiriyas for me. In the Bienal that
dream came true and I think he sang better than ever – the theater
went wild, and for me that was on of the most rewarding experiences of
my life. Young singers have no personality, the same could be said about
dancers, I see them and they’re all cut from the same cloth. Chocolate’s
singing is a basic necessity because his sound is so gypsy, with so much
personality, just seeing him raise his hand makes the tears flow. A true
genius.”
Fernando de la Morena: “It’s a great responsibility for me to be here tonight
sitting in for Chocolate, considering what a huge artist he is, no question
about it, and I’m very grateful. Chocolate is one of the few “black
ones” left, his singing is black, in every sense of the word, an
exceptional artist, his singing is timeless and profound. We’ve
performed together at many festivals – he talks to me about cante
and sings for me, there’s a personal harmony between us and this
is very gratifying because he’s one of the pillars, a standard-bearer
of flamenco.”
Juan Peña “El Lebrijano”: “Antonio Núñez “Chocolate” is an institution,
nothing less than a flamenco institution. He is a figure to learn from
because he has great wisdom and is a man who has lived both the past and
the present, so those of us who are younger than him must follow his lead
and learn from him, he has a great deal to offer and the affection and
friendship we share fill me with emotion.”
Antonio Carrión, his regular guitarist and personal
friend, had the following words this morning: “Personally, I’m deeply affected. We’ve lost one
of the greats, as a person and as an artist – he had his own imitable
style. Those fandangos and siguiriyas, those black sounds…we’ve
lost an institution.”
Chocolate con Antonio Carrión, foto: Estela Zatania
Deflamenco’s regular contributor Arzapúa
also wanted to add his voice: “A candle, one of the most important guiding lights of flamenco
singing, has flickered and extinguished after illuminating brightly for
more than seventy years…
Chocolate, Antonio Núñez, was one of a kind. Now that
he’s gone there’s this empty feeling in the gut, and the sensation
of having lost one of the people responsible for some of the most truly
profound and enriching moments of cante – dignified, high-quality
classic flamenco that never relied on cheap tricks to get your attention,
to twist your heart into knots, to bring that tragic but joyous release
that makes you laugh and cry at the same time.
I wish to forever remember the right hand held high in the air, opening
and closing as if groping to clutch the secret, and then letting the knowledge
that infiltrates every note and syllable flow freely, only to clench the
fist once more to make it all knot up inside and squeeze out the seed
of true art.
A very great flamenco singer…may he rest in peace.”
