In case anyone still hasn't gotten over it: she's a woman, Catalan, and non-Gypsy. She performed in Jerez with her voice bare, accompanied only by the comforting sound of her guitarrón. José Gálvez. It was in the Atalaya Museums, to delight beyond all expectations with the best recital of cante so far of XXX Jerez Festival. Mayte Martín He melted the tempered metals without a single voice, taming the bass and imbuing it with exquisite sensitivity, approaching each third with depth and sweetness, gently twirling, digging his nails in from the stillness, with the supreme delicacy of mastery.
She went to Levante to open the shutters of the infinite caress, intoning the silken Malaga taranta of Ferdinand of Trianalinking it to the mining company of Encarnacion FernándezHe closed the trio with a flourish, erecting a sonic monument to the cantes of La Unión.
He wove together the phrases of the Malagueña from Baldomero Pacheco with ease, sewing a batch of abandolaos, looking at each other through rondeñas in The Hen y Hyacinth Almaden or in gutters by Lucena. He crowned them with style, putting his all into the fandango of Peppermint Bottle.
She was inspired by soleá, giving tender little pinches as she remembered Manuel Torre, The TwinTriana, La Andonda o Mairena, fastening the ground finish, without stridency or ostentation in brave thirds.
The jolt arrived with the true little stabs that it landed without breaking the nut, to slivers of the soul, entering point-blank into the Jerez seguiriya of Manuel Molinacomplaining in pain Uncle Jose de Paula, in the disavowal of Cagancho and the male of the little crystals from the master of Los Alcores, putting the lock on the black lament of the hurtful barbs.
"Mayte Martín melted the tempered metals without hitting a single note, taming the bass and imbuing it with exquisite sensitivity, approaching each third with substance and sweetness, playing softly, digging her nails in from the calm, with the supreme delicacy of mastery"
The swaying of the leather straps swayed with the cream of its velvety wicker. Through tangos, he surrendered to Pastora without forgetting the style of Mairena, The Repompa or the airs of Extremadura.
And it spiraled to the rhythm of the hammer through bulerías, where he strung together an assortment of pearls that ended with the bolero of Machin, taking shape as a tribute to Utrera in memory of Bernard y Fernanda and its imprint on the couplets of Maria mercedes o Commitment, with which he wanted to end the recital.
The incessant applause from the standing audience brought her back to the stage to plead for an SOS. She finished with a broken voice, crying with emotion, unraveling her innermost secrets to leave them at the mercy of the Jerez public.
Gálvez's guitar carried her along throughout the recital. He nestled her in every corner, letting her shine with exquisite melismas and gathering her up in every nook and cranny, marking the rhythm with bursts of bass strings, with a touch grilled which is already his, essential, almost minimalist, simple and resounding, with repulsive gaffes and jondo to the core.
Mayte Martín surrendered to the ancient sounds of slate-filled classicism, brimming with knowledge. But in the intricacies of his voice, he clothed them in purity, adorning them just enough with syrupy garlands that tasted like heaven, demonstrating that transgression also lies in returning to one's roots, where new laments always bloom anew. He offered a masterclass in cante, without mussing his hair, traversing the deep feelings of always and today, digging into the guts of flamenco and theirs to push them into their blessed gullet.
Credits
Intimateby Mayte Martín
XXX Jerez Festival
Museums of La Atalaya, Jerez de la Frontera (Cádiz)
March 1th 2026
Cante: Mayte Martín
Guitar: José Gálvez
