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Text: Pablo San Nicasio Morente’s Cubist Flamenco Cante: Enrique Morente, Angel Gabarre, Antonio Carbonell y Enrique Morente Jr. Some people were already leaving at twenty to ten with the sour taste of the sweetest honey on their lips. Well…yes…but… Enrique Morente had brought nothing less than a veritable “Granada Symphonic” with him to Madrid, and as far as straight-ahead cante, precious little. Lots of watered-down sangría. And even more pyrotechnics. But no, it wasn’t quite like that. He caught us off-guard. It was just twenty to ten. False alarm. Picasso knew how to turn the art world upside-down, and the maestro from Albaycín is in the process of doing the same thing with flamenco. All for the best of course. And now for the rest of the story… As his “official” recital, Moreneto presented the afore-mentioned, a small army of musicians on stage. The percussion of Bandolero, sounding more like rock all the time. Three dancers and three singers, with Antonio Carbonell standing out from the rest. Keyboards and…no fewer than four guitarists. Melón, Monty, the always impressive David Cerreduela and…oh, the surprise: Riqueni. The first treat of the evening. Looking straight ahead was one of the greats. Let’s hope it’s not a flash in the pan. Getting serious with heavy-duty cante like tonás with its regular variants, being noteworthy the martinete and carcelera. In a circle and in chorus, the Morente aesthetic. More and more people come on stage until it actually becomes difficult to see the maestro in the middle of it all. And a tribal closing, tribute to the host of the hour: Nelson Mandela. The caña he did next was a preview of that first recital. Excessive chorus and palmas, feet just right, excellent cante without quite getting off the ground…and one guitar among four that hesitates but ocassionally comes out with sparks of genius. It was Rafael Riqueni. We all know he’s not in his best moment, but Morente brought him along. How could he not when so many people remember him, and he really needed this. So did we.
And in each piece, the reaction was for his guitar. If yesterday it had been Morente and Riqueni by themselves, the building would truly have shaken. Just look at the incredible siguiriya they did. It would be hard to recall better harmony in this form so given to monotones. If the man from Triana gets his act together some day, if they take care of him as he deserved and is able to create what’s inside of him, guitarists up at the top will think twice before recording. We need more lessons Rafael. There must be days… Throughout the first part, a good level without tightening the screws. Alegrías at two-hundred per hour, soleá with triple mortal curlicued dance, and the now legendary “Guern-irak” with the chorus again. We were already closing the program notes. We knew Morente’s encores were long. But this wasn’t his first encore. The tips were really the heart of the concert. They were “Adios Málaga” and “Autorretrato” from a Málaga painter embodied in the Granada man’s two vocal chords. It was what the program had promised. We’d forgotten. The cubist was stopping the audience in their tracks. Everyone back to their seats. Because the night was about painters and tributes. To Van Gogh via Antonio Vega, and to Spanish painters after all the rest. It was already beginning to be a lot. Because after the rest, there was another round. Underneath the get-ups and on top of them, Goya, Picasso and Dali in the barber shop, singing, ranting and raving about politics and politicians, pullilng out knives and making peace. Morente had also brought along a theatrical company to recreate the birth of flamenco in a barber shop, at a fiesta, in a group, in a guitarist from another planet. Thank goodness we didn’t leave.
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