Sixty little children from disadvantaged families are about to see the blue sea lapping at the horizon for the first time. They've never been to the beach before. A child isn't fed by bread alone, but by dreams and experiences as simple and grand as burying their toes in the warm sand, building castles, and hiding their dreams in the foam of the waves that roll them amid the revelry that betrays their happiness, a happiness that is experienced in fits and starts because reality is much harsher. Brotherhood of the Gypsies of Utrera allows it and offers it, although I am sure that the gift is also for each of those brothers who have contributed with their charitable work to ensure that the oldest of festivals is celebrated one more year. flamencos, The Gypsy Stew of Utrera, to benefit the Brotherhood's charitable works. Aside from being an institution in itself, the competition continues to delve into the three F's: Flamenco, Family and Faith, with capital letters.
It's been sixty-nine years now, putting our shoulder to the wheel with the best of intentions, in addition to satisfying flamenco and stew to the nearly two thousand people who gather in the courtyard of the Salesian School of Utrera and they dig deep into their pockets for such a noble cause. The rest seems to be of little importance to those who have their sights set on these ends, but it is clear that the flamenco co-stars in this film, and not all critics are happy about it. And the public is the toughest and the first—I'm not referring to us, the hacks, who write afterward. Whether the stew is bland or salty, mushy or brothy, overcooked or just right...
Last year I published on this portal my review of the 2024 edition, titling it A stew for all tastes, but it never rains on everyone's, like at a wedding reception. The bride and groom giving their all to their guests, and friends stabbing each other in the back because the prawns weren't from Sanlúcar or the ham from Jabugo. And I'm the first. Regarding El Potaje, I say, which I'm nacar about without wanting to make a fuss because I already live it as my own. I'm from Utrera and for some time now, the only specialized critic who comes to cover it journalistically. In these cases, collaborating with expoflamenco, who also wanted to promote the event and contribute a small contribution to the Brotherhood. Not to praise something that has no merit, but I wanted to give you some information about the coverage and participation.
The controversy was served as soon as the tribute to Pitingo and a heterodox and provocative poster was presented in which a pianist from Utrera also appeared, who blurs his style along the borders of flamenco: Andres BarriosBut they got it right. Why not?
«It's been sixty-nine years putting our shoulder to the wheel with the best of intentions, in addition to satisfying flamenco and stew to the nearly two thousand people who gather in the courtyard of the Salesian School of Utrera and dig deep into their pockets for such a noble cause"
Andres Barrios
A video was shown in memory of those who left us last year. And then, let's get the cooking started. After the opening words of a natural, spontaneous, gypsy, and concise presentation by our friend and colleague, Juan Garrido, who seems to be the model of El Potaje in his duties as presenter, the season has opened for the executioner of silence, giving way to the piano on the stage of the sooty pleasures of the gypsies of Utrera. And from this very place comes Andrés, who shaped his proposal, revealing his facet as a soloist and accompanist to the cante and to the dance. Very personal The Flea in her broken and only good moans The Folder in a succession of little kicks whose sound could not be fully heard.
Andrés gave himself a little bit of a tune in front of the microphone. While it's not the piano that best suits his taste, flamenco of those that appear in the current panorama, is fresh and jondo, without missing the tips of the root. He played with the splashes of his youth to do what he wanted without turning his back on Utrera and the flamenco, brimming with technique and creativity, boldness and squareness in the amalgamated bars, with jazzy twists and commercial flourishes, but without concessions to musical mediocrity. Quite the opposite: he was equally inspired by Lorca that Failure o Paco de Lucía, who dabbled in other genres with virtuosity, always playing with improvisation. With the ivories of his Shigeru Kawai de Royal Pianos He sorted out white and black between his insultingly youthful fingers, full of originality, whether in the malagueña and abandolaos, the mournful seguiriya with melodic skirmishes, soleá or in Meraki, his bulería. He demonstrated his extraordinary worth and his love for the flamenco traditions of his birth. The rest of the cast that accompanied him was Carmen young at palmas y Manuel of the Tower to percussion.
Aurora Vargas
Aurora Vargas is one of those who no longer exist. One of those singers from a golden age of flamenco who are conspicuous by their absence today. Unique, ravishingly beautiful, and gypsy, a prodigious woman, both as an artist and a flamenco dancer. She was the one with the "indomitable moan" and the brown-skinned scallops, in danger of extinction.
Aurora Vargas is reliving her best days, reconnecting with the stage, sweeping the stage floor, and leaving no doubt about her artistic talents, the age, the grace, the depth, and the gypsy quality that flows through her throat of black crystals, bursting with the explosion of joy or the lament of pain. She sings and dances, shattering the sanity of the audience with the sway of her waist.
To the guitar his inseparable Miguel Salado, who lends her his strings with deep admiration and plays to accompany her as if he were carrying her in his arms, cutting the tempos or rocking her in the flourishes, closing with her in the tucks. Flamenco, precise and servant, like those magicians of the compass that leads to the palmas: Diego Montoya, Javi Peña and Manuel Salado.
He sang warming up the tuning by cantiñas, from The Mirris From Sanlúcar to Cádiz, he set the crowd alight from here. He stopped for a soleá, searching for the centers, not caring about the measures but rather the transmission, pinching where he knows they hurt, remembering the airs of Alcalá, the airs of Utrera La Serneta, from Cadiz that of The Twin and a few more. Readjusting the labels that only frame her as a party-goer, she thundered in the solemnity of the solea to let loose in the freedom of the tangos, where she grew and dragged the taste for experience and rhythm, elevating the bulería of Utrera, Lebrija, and Cádiz to the quintessence of the dark sounds. La Perla And whatever she felt like, for that's what she rules like no one else when she climbs onto the stage. Aurora's is from another era. And it twists the senses of even the most dedicated aficionado. Even those who resist and seek only orthodoxy and perfection. Aurora is the Potaje with its accoutrements, where you dip the bread and it falls on its feet, the toastiness of the pot and the warmth of the gypsy community.
On air, without a PA system and embellishing her brooches with little stiletto heels, she bowed to the audience, prostrate before her. The ovation was tremendous, just like her.
"Aurora Vargas's work is from another era. And it twists the senses of even the most dedicated aficionado. Even those who resist and seek only orthodoxy and perfection. Aurora is the Potaje with its accoutrements, where you dip the bread and it falls on its feet, the toastiness of the pot, and the warmth of the gypsy community."
The tribute and Pitingo
The honoree does not always lend himself to the recital, but rather receives his decoration and at most marks a cante, a dance or just a few words. Pitingo He came loaded with nerves and with the responsibility of a flamenco who has never abandoned his roots but makes his living primarily from other music. He made this clear before any old-fashioned person like me could ask what he's doing on the bill. But we all already knew. At least those of us who listen with open ears and a mind sharpened by repeated beatings.
A video praising his qualities and career preceded the tribute, which can be seen in full on social media. This was followed by another video from friends, family, and colleagues who wanted to record their greetings, highlighting his genius, his humanity, his passion, and the authenticity of his art. Pitingo is "good and brave," just as his grandmother urged him to continue.
Your friend, the Jerez native Fernando Soto placeholder image, the event's organizer, forgot about the two pages he had written to let his heart speak in just three minutes. And Pitingo was still questioning whether he deserved this recognition, after having received countless awards. He was visibly nervous and deeply moved, with tears welling up in his eyes. "I still can't believe it." He recalled passages from his childhood, insisting that he grew up among "Gypsies, non-Gypsies, Blacks, and Civil Guards." And he was endlessly grateful for the gifts from El Potaje and CRUZCAMPOFor him this was "like The Gypsy Grammys».
The Senior Brother of the Brotherhood of the Gypsies of Utrera, José Jiménez Loreto, He made an emotional speech that summarized the history and aims of the Brotherhood and El Potaje. He alluded to the recognition that the Festival Flamenco Gypsy Valley last year he awarded the pioneer and showed his gratitude to the Gazpacho from Moron, which this year pays tribute to El Potaje, and which the author will be pleased to present. He spoke of the 600th anniversary of the arrival of the Roma in the region and that "despite the many attempts at extermination we've suffered, we're still here."
Pitingo was generous in his performance. He spared no time and dedication, delighting most of the audience. He justified his gypsy spirit with the cantes free by tonás and martinetes. The guitar of Jesus Nunez in the background, behind, uncommon in the flamenco where it is customary to be next to it. He continued with soleá, looking at Alcalá, Lebrija and Utrera, crowning it with Paquirri and the my mother's pain Fernanda's. She squeezed herself into endorsing a chocolate fandango and another of the de la Calzá. He sealed this part with bulerías and age. And then he turned to his concert repertoire, with a Mexican song. They went up to the palmas Mari Peña, Fernando Soto, Manuela del Moya y Fernanda Peña. And a gospel choir formed in addition to The Cheto from Madrid on percussion. It was curious that despite Pitingo's request that the audience snap their fingers and accompany them with the sticks, they soon flamencos who were on stage at palmas They ended up making time with deaf and long notes. flamenco strip.
And he broke into soul songs. Also singing Stand by me or Killing me softly with his song melting the audience at El Potaje, who exchanged "oles for wow," as a friend pointed out to me on WhatsApp, and ripped shirts for flashlights on cell phones to the sound of these songs. There's no denying that despite everything, it was beautiful and Pitingo was very flamencoI don't think anyone doubts it. Even less so for those of us who stayed behind in the dressing rooms. Juan Garrido will tell you about this and some other details in this magazine. From inside.
«Pitingo was generous in his performance. He spared no time and dedication, delighting most of the audience. He justified his gypsy spirit with the cante"free by tonás and martinetes"
Juana Amaya
When the sun was scorching the courtyard of Los Salesianos in the middle of the afternoon, it had already arrived Juana Amaya with her company to El Potaje to test the sound. And the generosity on stage of some of her companions delayed her departure into the wee hours of the morning in the intolerable heat. We're at a festival! She'd been in the dressing room for a long time and ended up feeling rebellious, to say the least. In this way, she fought hard and danced with the roots of her surname, pointing out that Morón is not just a land of lime and guitars that sound like bare strings, but that it has its name in dance, and, to this day—shared—it is Juana's.
He invited to the dance Juan Jose Villar, which was widely applauded. With the die-cut soniquete percussion of Lolo Fernández, the filigree guitar of Ruben Romero and the cante resounding of Manuel Tañe, the sharp turns of Antonio Villar and the echoes of Chocolate tan from Ivan Carpio, a gypsy who sings better and better, Juana took the crown among those who dance with poise, strength, feeling, and racial identity, without unnecessary fuss and with the weight of those who know the way to the porches of the alleys of the duende. With enviable feet and just the right arms to support a speech of gañafones jondos that are tattooed on the head when a gypsy of such stature messes up her hair during the dance ritual, sealed her performance to keep it in the retina of collectors of pinches flamencos. Like her, none.
The tonás gave way to the mournful seguiriya, Juana walked along the navaja of the fat duquelitas, drawing with blood and her feet the trail of inconsolable crying. Iván was skinned in the light toná of Diego the Lebrijan and threw his arms around her cante which inspired the dancer.
Bulerías to cante and soleá por bulerías to the dance continued with the allegory of the depth. And Juana portrayed that Seville has more dance than that of Matilde o Mengibar, or those of Angelita y Manuela. His is not a lax torso and "hands like palomore," neither straight and posed, nor just on her feet. She combines a little bit of each and a lot of her, creating a unique personality that can be called Juana's dance. Brushes, stamping, calls, the gesture, the shoulders, the waist, the way she gathers her dress, her gaze... The best.
"With enviable feet and just the right amount of arms to support a gibberish speech" jondos that are tattooed on the head when a gypsy of such stature messes up her hair during the dance ritual, Juana Amaya sealed her performance to keep it in the retina of collectors of little bits flamencos. Like her, none»
The Pele
He had just returned from receiving an award in Córdoba. And he remembered, "We're in Utrera, with the gypsies, in El Potaje." He wanted to sing straight and began his recital in a semitone seguiriya, without the rush of adding two verses and a macho. He composed a handful of lyrics in his own way, enjoying the improvisational mix that those who know how, like him, can create. Uncle José de Paula, Tower, Snail…he remembered many to do it like no one else, or like The Pele. That's why he is one of the few creators of the flamenco currently a living legend for many that upsets some purists and drives the rest crazy.
The guitar sheltered him Seve child, one of the best accompaniments to cante, sublime in the responses, neat in the falsetas, precise in the pulsation, in the arpeggios, alzapúas and tremolos, as well as in the picados and the melodic. Not lacking in harmonies that support the transitional tones and the capricious cadences of the singer. He catches them all with an incredible ear. palmas accompanied him José de El Pele y Alberto Parraguilla.
Then he began to sing soleá, following his own and others' songs. First, Alcalá, even forcing his mouth, twisting it to seek a light imitation as a tribute to Bag, then by La Andonda that he cultivated so much FernandaBy The Roezna and the brave Paquirrí. He got involved with his own work and went all out to collect the roar of palmas of the fans. He made a piñonate with the cantiñas, deceiving time, cutting and linking at his blessed whim until reaching the bulerías of the closing, longing for what there was in Utrera and Lebrija, remembering The Bitch –he owes it a thousand times over–.
He closed the door on El Potaje with his graceful little kicks, confirming his place and position on the bill. Even though at times he seems loud to some, in this irrepressible display of mastery of the range of registers, because he starts from the abysses to high attacks, scaling an enormous ascent of tonal bodies impossible for most mortals.
"El Pele made a piñonate with the cantiñas, deceiving time, cutting and linking at his blessed whim until reaching the closing bulerías, longing for what there was in Utrera and Lebrija, remembering La Perrata, he owes it to himself a thousand times over."
Thus concluded a good festival. One of those that one doesn't expect when one sees the lineup a supposed intruder who turns out not to be one. One of those that pleases the public and makes the memory of a fan base change with torn shirts caused by the spirit of a macho seguiriya or a soleá by Fernanda by a sea of lit cell phone flashlights accompanying Pitingo's soul music. El Potaje de Utrera ended, perhaps with an over-the-top decibel, or deafening moments of poor sound on stage. Pitingo's Stew, the one from the Gypsy Grammys and the good ones flamencos. That's how it is. Or that's how I've told you. What do you say?
Credits
LXIX Gypsy Stew from Utrera
In tribute to Pintingo
Patio of the Salesian School, Utrera, Seville
June 28th, 2025
Cante
The Pele
Guitar: Niño Seve
Palmas: José de El Pele and Alberto Parraguilla
Aurora Vargas
Guitar: Miguel Salado
Palmas: Diego Montoya, Javi Peña and Manuel Salado
Pitingo
Guitar: Jesús Núñez
Percussion: El Cheto
Gospel Choir (names to be received)
Palmas: Fernando Soto, Mari Peña, Manuela del Moya and Fernanda Peña
Home
Juana Amaya
Cante: Iván Carpio, Manuel Tañé and Villar Jr.
Guitar: Ruben Romero
Percussion: Lolo Fernández
Guest at the dance: Juan José Villar
Piano
Andres Barrios
Cante: The Flea
Dance: The Carpeta
Percussion: Manuel de la Torre
Palmas: Carmen Young
Presenter: Juan Garrido
Host of the tribute event: Fernando Soto
