Right under the bridge my mother gave birth to me
and my sister Lole's handkerchief
served as diapers
I felt a chill run through my body with this lyrics for seguiriya. He wasn't the only one. And they had his last name. He could have been singing tangos until dawn, shaking my flesh. Here, through cantiñas, soleá or bulerías, Angelita Montoya is tempered and has a rope until the milkman comes. He did not need a long repertoire of palos, but at each one of them he stopped at all the corners because he knows the paths that lead to the left.
The guitar of Paco Iglesias He cuddled her with dark colors. Neat, servile, very flamenco, always on the foot to respond at the right moment to the attacks of the cante. Short and bright, with stale alzapúas and falsetas from today and always. palmas de Tate Nunez y Ramon They marked the jaleos and the rhythm well.
«Angelita sang sentences in each third, evoking the airs of her mother La Negra, holding her own like no one else in the low, clean and full. She has plenty of faculties, her voice is hypnotic and well-sounded, with a crystalline pronunciation and intonation, a thick velvety torrent and an exquisite taste in the musicality of her throat with gypsy hues»
I went to the sanctuary, to Mecca. I made the pilgrimage as usual in search of what was roasted from the pot to the Antonio Mairena Art House, to the heart of Los Alcores where the maestro was born, whom everyone who has an ear among the fans venerates. And they were right when they knocked on Angelita and Paco's door to fill the hall of the peña good cante and good touch in its Friday Jondo. Angelita is underrated. She should look great from party to party, peña en peña and rolling around in festivals because it is nothing more or less than a gush of gypsydom.
She opened with some tangos to warm up the throat and the audience began to taste the candy. From here until the end, after more than an hour of recital, Angelita sang sentences in each line, evoking the airs of her mother. La Negra, holding on like no one else in the low, clean and full. Pressing in the wild attacks without reaching the scream or the artificial decorations. She has plenty of faculties, her voice is hypnotic and well-pitched, with a crystalline pronunciation and intonation, a thick velvety torrent and an exquisite taste in the musicality of her throat with gypsy hues. Triana could not be forgotten in the string of tangos that she gave away. And then she went to Cai for joys searching in the musical staff for the mysteries of beautiful cadences. He said cante with his little mouth full of pine nuts. He remembered Sanlúcar and The Mirris. Then he became serious in the seguiriya, where we allowed him the license to conjugate with the variants. It didn't hurt me so much. But por soleá and bulería por soleá he left me with the flavors of Utrera without any mimicry, reminding me of Perrate and Fernanda, although it started and finished in Alcalá. La Serneta, La Andonda... How well this gypsy complains! And she left the remains of bulerías to zamarreones of dark soniquetes. A bunch of lyrics, each one with more jinque, linking two or three fandangos in the amalgam of the twelve times, couplets for Lola, at your side, the tribute to Gaspar and its plaintive song, a toná and the Jailer from Caracol, in addition to the graceful little kick with which she locked the door. How well Angelita sang!
Credits
recital of cante by Angelita Montoya
Friday Jondo from the House of Art of Antonio Mairena
Mairena del Alcor, Seville
January 31, 2025
Cante: Angelita Montoya
Guitar: Paco Iglesias
Palmas: Tate Nunez and Ramoni
