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Guitar: José Fernández “Tomatito”, voice: Potito, violin: |
Billed as something like «everything Tomatito touches turns
to flamenco», I was looking forward to seeing him in the flesh.
As a novice guitarist, I was hoping to pick up something from the
«king of the gypsies». Anything really, maybe even some
of that clichéd duende? With the Alegria Flamenco Company
(guitarist Ismael Heredia and singer Juan Manuel Carpio from Jerez)
supporting the first half, we appeared to be in for a mix of traditional
and contemporary styles.
The Albert Hall is vast; they host tennis tournaments in there.
As we find our seats, an usher mutters «quiet tonight».
I hoped not.
The stage set is austere,
in fact there isn't one.
But he was right; the hall is half-full, or even less. Probably
thousands of people in there but looking more like dandruff in an
old velvet hatbox. Everything is black or dark red, save for a green
and white electric exit sign, competing for attention to my right.
This doesn't augur well.
The stage set is austere, in fact there isn't one. Just the ubiquitous
flamenco chairs, arranged in a shallow curve. Do they take them
on tour with them in flight cases? A few mikes, fold-back monitors
and what looks like a mattress in the corner. Four spots shine from
behind the stage…more red. I'm cold and so is my guest. I wasn't
sure what to expect as I had only seen flamenco in small, intimate
venues before. Something about Tomatito's reputation caused me to
expect a more showy set. I thought in passing, «where's the
drum kit, and 4 by 12 speaker cabinets?».
The Alegría group shuffled on looking somewhat intimidated
by the whole thing, and took a long time to warm up. The audience
was sprinkled with Spaniards and their British friends. As they
tuned up, a friend calls out «»Viva Jeré!»
from over in the stalls, raising a nod of recognition from a guitarist.
Others follow with «Viva Jeré» and «Viva Algeciras!».
The audience were expectant as the group kicks off with a short
and rather sombre set of siguriyas, soleá por bulerias and
soleá,
closing with bulerias; they are only just getting into the groove.
The guitar comes in third
after singers and
dancers in flamenco puro, which may come
as a disappointment to aspiring tomatoes.
The difference between the guitar style for accompanying dance and
the solo style that Tomatito is known for is impressive; much more
rasgueado work, very little arpeggio or picado. To keep compás
for the dancers. That's its job, the guitar comes in third after
singers and dancers in flamenco puro, which may come as a disappointment
to aspiring tomatoes.
Alegría comprises two guitars, a male and female dancer
and an extraneous Indian section of violin and tablas. They looked
a little incongruous on their mattress and I am not convinced it
worked that well, though it did lend an Eastern «aire».
His arpeggios with golpe are so
terse. Launched
like missiles, one would not be blamed for ducking.
Dancer: Joselillo Fernández
The dancing was especially intense for seguiriyas. The male dancer,Arroquero,
impressed my guest, who doesn't like flamenco but was beginning
to enjoy this first live performance. She comments that it is just
not right in this environment but would care to see more, in its
natural surroundings. The bulerias is the usual, lively affair;
the «palmero» dragged up to do a little dance. Great swivelling
hips as she walks away, looking disdainfully at you over her shoulder;
it's so impertinent.
After the interval – a drink and a cigar – it's time for Tomatito.
To my surprise, the stage is much the same, spots changing to an
even colder blue. More monitors indicate more instruments but that's
about it. No flash, no colour; as gloomy as the evening outside.
Tomatito confidently enters from stage left, followed by his group,
including the singer Potito, whose face I know well from Carlos
Saura's seminal movie, «Flamenco». They bow deeply to
a thunderous reception and cries of «papa!» behind me,
but the crowd quickly settles into rapt attention.
I couldn't really see what make of guitar he was using; the eternal
quest of the flamenco guitarist. All I can say is that it appeared
to be blanca (cypress back and sides), which would indicate a bright
sound with a shorter sustain for accompanying singing.
tremolo,
microseconds before a crashing rasgueado…
He takes his time tuning up, or rather retuning completely, though
to what notes, I cannot tell. The group have left the stage for
this intro. In his white shirt, trademark long hair, and with cejilla
in the first position, he starts to play. He swaps the running order
for an alegrías. I'm relieved to see him hit a bum note and
miss a barre as he warms up, his left finger up and down the fret
board in huge leaps. Interesting to see what appears to be a barre
across only five strings, probably leaving the bass string to rest
the thumb. Though he only appears to do this for the alegrías.
He pulls an astonishing tremolo, microseconds before a crashing
rasgueado, leaving me shaking my head in admiration. I like the
hammer on/pull off (ligado) with his index finger a fret above the
cejilla.
It's a solid warm up and the audience get the idea. After a most
beautiful taranta, the man to my right says to his wife «I
rather like this chap». The group comes back to set up cajón,
fretless bass and violin. Tomatito takes an age to retune his guitar
again, as he does for nearly every piece but he is using all sorts
of tunings and he gets it perfect in the end. I'm not partial to
the violin in flamenco but I reserve judgement. Sadly it doesn't
pay off as the horsehair flies and the tuning goes back to the dressing
room.
He can't help but make
great music.
If he dropped his guitar onto the
stage it would be music.
They play a stomping bulerias and I found myself spontaneously applauding
a staccato flourish of rasgueados. The strings inside the cajón
are clearly audible in the mix. Like a snare drum, it beats the
heart of flamenco. The bass is played with a plectrum, maybe easier
than with the fingers, but I doubt it. Diego Amador «Churri»
plays it sympathetically with great skill.
It gets into that space in your
head that
triggers a smile and you want to dance
Tomatito doesn't look at his hands, not once. He cocks his head
slightly, half closes his eyes and squints into another world. It
is clear he is at the centre, driving the group – the compas. He
can't help but make great music. If he dropped his guitar onto the
stage it would be music.
It gets into that space in your head that triggers a smile and
you want to dance or trip to the bar. The crowd take to this one
and roar their approval.
Fantastic chords that lesser guitarists
would gladly do time for.
Tangos are up next, Tomatito gets it all rolling, strumming on dampened
strings. It's a more popular beat for the Northern European audience;
they start to tap their feet and nod their heads. Tomatito knows
exactly, and I mean exactly, what he is doing. His arpeggios with
golpe are so terse. Launched like missiles, one would not be blamed
for ducking.
El Potito has the most agreeable face and when he sings, he kind
of smiles like a wedge of Dutch cheese. He sits quite still, knees
apart, softly clapping the compas, sliding one hand out of the other,
watching the guitar. His voice is not soft but doesn't jar, not
sweet but not harsh. It just fits, lifting the piece to its rightful
place.
Let's skip over the tango Argentino, suffice to say the violin
and guitar played a flashy descending bowing/picado run to end it
and I was glad to see it go, much too «café».
The soleá stands out as
sublime – sad and
lonely amongst all the bustle.
The
soleá stands out as sublime – sad and lonely amongst all
the bustle. Tomatito concentrates intently on the song, for once
he is not the boss . The song takes over and we get a glimpse of
«cante jondo», the serious flamenco songs.
They slip effortlessly into a soleá por bulerias. Great
chords, fantastic chords that lesser guitarists would gladly do
time for. So much music from so few. Where are the rest of them
then, in my head?
Tomatito introduces us to his colleagues and El Potito receives
a huge ovation. It is good to see him recognised, he appears taken
aback – his lips read «pero si no he cantao», [but I hardly
sang].
So much music from so
few. Where are the rest of the musicians then, in my head?
Tomatito
The set ends with a rumba so now we are all the way to South America
and back. A re-entrant to the flamenco repertoire, this is a British
favourite after so many holidays in the company of the Gypsy Kings.
It is not for the purist and it drags on into a jam session, the
violin becoming quite annoying.
After an encore of the same, the show ends. Tomatito, El Potito
and Alegría tried to bring a little sun into South Kensington
on a grey, English autumn evening. They were up against a Victorian
edifice to the classical arts with the doors left open. To a degree
they succeeded. Tomatito was surprisingly more flamenco than jazzy…an
epithet only hinted at by his habit of bending the string rather
than sliding up a fret or two like PDL. The man is a powerhouse
of rhythmic technique.
Should you leave your snug home for this show? On balance, flamenco
performances at this level are rare – you should not be disappointed.
Simon Shearston in London
with thanks to Melchor of Jerez
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