After the handshake, he climbs into the backseat and we get in our way towards Arcos de la Frontera, a veritable adventure for yours truly. \u201cMy mom is from Bornes, there she\u2019s known as \u2018La Calvaria<\/i>\u2019, she always worked in the fields and she used to sing really well\u00a0por saeta<\/i>\u201d, he says as we look for the Jerez\u2019s exit. Joaqu\u00edn Jim\u00e9nez Dom\u00ednguez, born in Jerez in 1962, became a prodigy of\u00a0cante<\/i>\u00a0since an early age due to the strength of his voice and his command of the\u00a0cantes de fuelle<\/i>\u00a0(\u201ccantes<\/i>\u00a0of stamina\u201d), like Chocolate used to say. Dignified and gracious, he talks humbly, intent on socializing and getting away from the loneliness that often keeps him company. It may seem like he\u2019s been forgotten in his own land, as he no longer performs in any\u00a0pe\u00f1a<\/i>, festival or recital of any kind. Well, to tell the truth, one\u00a0tabanco<\/i>\u00a0in Jerez advertised him as a star a few weeks ago, aware that the public would not expect an artist of his calibre to perform in places of little economic importance, if you know what I mean. Now and then he wanders along the streets in the San Miguel district, walking towards the city centre where there\u2019s a flamenco atmosphere and some people want to listen to him. He always avoids bothering people, though, because his essence is bohemian and, as stated above, he\u2019s exceedingly gracious. Yet, he needs warmth, and it looks like he\u2019s starting to get it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m in that Facebook, in vogue once again\u201d, he says, regarding the great response he\u2019s had about his scheduled performance at the C\u00edrculo Flamenco de Madrid at the start of the season, on September 27, accompanied by the guitar of Domingo Rubichi. \u201cI need to make the best of this moment, but I\u2019ll need help, so I don\u2019t end up by the wayside\u201d, he says with some sadness, feeling sidelined by today\u2019s flamenco scene. \u201cIt\u2019s important that pure, authentic\u00a0cante<\/i>\u00a0doesn\u2019t disappear, the\u00a0cante jondo<\/i>\u00a0of Antonio Mairena, Fosforito, Menese\u2026 with whom I shared the stage in festivals when I was a kid. Camar\u00f3n and myself were the youngest\u00a0cantaores<\/i>\u00a0in those places, and some artists who later became more famous than me didn\u2019t perform in public yet, at that time\u201d. Joaqu\u00edn is referring to the time when he won the first prize at the\u00a0Concurso Nacional de Mairena del Alcor<\/i>\u00a0when he was just fourteen years old (after several years when no one was able to win it), and other important contests such as the\u00a0Concurso Nacional de Arte Flamenco de C\u00f3rdoba<\/i>. \u201cThe contest I never took part in was the\u00a0Cante de las Minas de la Uni\u00f3n<\/i>, but I won\u2019t take part now, because if I don\u2019t win, then I lose cachet\u201d, he says as we get on Arcos\u2019 main avenue.<\/p>\n
We have come here to enjoy Joaqu\u00edn\u2019s\u00a0cante<\/i>\u00a0among friends, old-school flamenco aficionados. Arcos, a particularly charming town in the so-called \u201cRoute of the White Towns\u201d in the hills of C\u00e1diz province, has always stood by traditional\u00a0cante<\/i>, a fact that\u2019s confirmed every year with the\u00a0Vel\u00e1 de las Nieves<\/i>\u00a0festival, which celebrated its 58th edition last August. \u201cWell, I\u2019ve never been to that festival, that\u2019s weird\u201d, says Salmonete. We arrive at the San Pedro district and head to the\u00a0Taberna<\/i>\u00a0of the good Rafael Vega, son of the illustrious aficionado of the same name, who was always able to bring great flamenco stars to this magical town, from La Paquera and Lebrijano to Lola Flores and Roc\u00edo Jurado. There we meet Juan Manuel Vel\u00e1zquez-Gaztelu (brother of the master of flamenco communications, Jos\u00e9 Mar\u00eda, and father of Curro, who is also immersed in the world of flamenco), as well as other aficionados from the area such as Juan Alvarado, the link uniting all of them. We can hear the guitar of Manuel de la Julia, the young\u00a0tocaor<\/i>renowned for his skill, playing\u00a0por buler\u00edas por sole\u00e1<\/i>, and Salmonete starts to warm up. He gets near the guitarist and starts to delight our senses with that yearning echo which doesn\u2019t want to fade. He has\u00a0comp\u00e1s<\/i>and\u00a0duende<\/i>\u00a0which, although it may sound clich\u00e9, not everyone has. After this\u00a0cante<\/i>\u00a0we must breath again, for he has left us breathless, with our bones chilled. We feast on chicken-and-rice stew. Joaqu\u00edn eats from a plate as big as a bullfighting ring, and he\u2019s not the only one, \u201cthis is so good!\u201d. He\u2019s at ease because he feels loved, because he\u2019s treated as he deserves: like one of our great artists of\u00a0cante<\/i>\u00a0and upholder of our traditions. He continues\u00a0por fandangos<\/i>,\u00a0taranta<\/i>,\u00a0buler\u00eda<\/i>\u00a0and\u00a0seguiriyas<\/i>. Like someone once said, \u201cit\u2019s surprising he\u2019s not related to Terremoto, because he has\u00a0pellizco<\/i>\u00a0just like him\u201d. At the end of his performance, it\u2019s time to have some wine, after the obligatory photos with those he brought to tears\u2026 We return to Jerez and drop him off at his house in San Telmo. Happy and grateful, he insists: \u201cDon\u2019t leave me, don\u2019t leave me, because I have to make the best of this moment\u201d.<\/p>\n
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