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Samuel Serrano, the scars of cante

The young singer-songwriter gave a great recital without a public address in the heart of Sevillian Aljarafe.


Saturday, three in the afternoon. Will there be an hour less flamenco for the jondo? Here, based on new cod bait and moss, say the Villanueva del Ariscal that the Aljarafe gold is not in its optimal state until after “La Purisima”, on December 8. Well, what do you want me to tell you, I like more and more the flamenco by day, like the Fair, there are less drunks and less heavy, and also, as Francisco Palacios said “The Pali” , less missiles and more pavías.

Arrives Samuel Serrano made a brush, a new style according to his twenty-four years and the current times. Some of us miss that Indian head of Comanche hair that he wore when we met him six or seven years ago, an image according to his wild echo. I can not find another better qualifier for his singing. An untamed wild colt, a whole horse that flies its mane to the wind of the marshes of Doñana, so close to its native Chipiona.

It comes with the guitar of Luis the Salao (Málaga, 1973), musician already known in La Peña, and a real surprise for the writer, because he had never had the opportunity to listen to it live. Luis is not a friend of virtuosic boasts, but he is a magnificent accompanist guitarist, always focused on the cantaor and very, very flamenco .

Samuel opens the jar of essences and spills a couple of hammers of those of before, those of Juan Talega, who did not want memorials or papers from the audience. The room is small, they have not put public address, out there, out there, loose an amateur from behind. It seems incredible that this echo comes from such a small body.
He is already seated in his chair, and the sonata of the Salao transports us to the neighborhood of La Viña. Joys calm and pastueñas, entering to compass by the bay and leaving with too much load of dramatism. All the clubs do not express fatiguitas, no matter how many bombs the bullies throw.

Run, run, come the soleá , the mother of flamenco . Menudo route by Alcalá de los Panaderos, there you can see the knowledge. Once again Juan Talega shows through his mouth, he has an unmistakable metal, mime him, Samuel, your way of singing, delivering the heart in every third, deserves a special care of the voice. We want a cantaor for another fifty years, although I can not see it.

And after some senses fandangos by Antonio Núñez “Chocolate” , he makes his way, like a knife in lard, the funeral call of the seguiriya. In Villanueva del Ariscal, birthplace and home of Márquez el Zapatero, there have always been very good fans. The scream with which the cantaor leads the cante of Paco la Luz leaves the parishioners with an overwhelming heart. There are the Agujetas, the father and the son, in the exorbitant eyes of Samuel. It fights with the cante until the agony, producing in the spectator a restlessness that can not be explained. My God, what do I have, what is happening to me, a rope has been tied around my neck that is drowning me. And to top it off, El Cabal de El Fillo. Spooky

So far I had not even said good afternoon. Visibly moved, he addresses the public, who, like the chipioneer, is close to exhaustion. “Thank you very much, Here, in these places is where you have to squeeze singing, because this is truly where they appreciate and appreciate, more than in the theaters and open spaces, they also have their thing.”

And to return the beat to the hearts, Luis el Salao gave us his touch for bulerías , transporting the attendees to the same Plazuela. And Serrano showed how well he performs in those waters, first with cuplés and later with El Torta and Antonio el Jaqueta, to finish with those gypsy carols, those of “Una limosnita I want you to give me the probes children who are in Bethlehem ” Right now I was taking another one of those, or even a pavia.

Show: Singing recital flamenco
Place and date: Peña Flamenca “La Solera” , Villanueva del Ariscal, Seville. {two}
To the cante: Samuel Serrano
On the guitar: Luis the Salao

 


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Filólogo madrileño. Media vida en Sevilla. Centinela de las palabras. Lo jondo le acelera peligrosamente el corazón.

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