The last time we saw each other was in El Puerto de Santa María, during an awards ceremony organized by colleague JJavier Villar of the program Dairy StreetIt was, perhaps, a few months ago. It might have been his last public appearance from a stage that no longer allowed him to play the guitar. But it did allow him to arpeggiate the strings of courage and hope with a human grandeur that still overwhelms and moves me in equal measure.
The cruel disease, which he fought so valiantly, had already drastically diminished his youthful appearance. Even so, defying the ravages of time, he wore an unwavering smile, both in life and in death. He offered it freely even as tears flowed through his veins like a hidden spring. It was his parents, to whom I send the warmest of hugs, who told me: "Miguelito calls us every morning to encourage his whole family." When it should have been the other way around. A man of barely 44 years, wandering daily through a litany of tests and radiation treatments, yet radiating enthusiasm like someone riding on a float. Miguel Salado is gone forever, leaving behind an example that will honor him as long as we have the capacity to remember. Thank you, champion. Our admiration is in industrial quantities, as Bo would say.
"When artistic value is nothing more than the extension of an exceptional person, it achieves a level of authenticity that will endure over time. Miguel Salado, our Miguelito, the one we recorded at La Nueva Frontera del Cante In 2008, being almost as young, he achieved it. That is why death has not entirely robbed him of his true triumph, and he will already be with his fishing rod in those oceans of eternity. The same oceans that today have been filled with tears saltier than ever.
As a guitarist, I can't add much more to what's already been said. It was a touch very flamenco, Elegant, with great technique, but always at the service of others. Therefore, generous. A way of facing the "air well," as Lorca would say, surrounded by experiences with his people, the Lara family. Gypsy spirit peazopán, on his father's side Manuel, originally from the old slaughterhouse of AlbarizuelaBut Miguel Salado's teenage interest in the instrument went beyond a mere inclination. It was a passion that led him to pursue a complete musical education. His playing style, almost always in accompaniment, reflected all the Jerez schools of his time: the Morao and Periquines, with Antonio Jero at the head. The Grill, Paco Cepero y Antonio HigueroAnd that supreme institute they founded Carbonero y BalaoThey all gathered around his sound to become a guitarist that everyone vied for: José Mercé, Luis el Zambo, the MoneoAntonio Reyes, Jesús Méndez, Ezequiel Benítez and many more. Towards the end, he became the faithful squire of Pansequito y Aurora Vargas, who today has increased the volume of his groans to four per half.
When artistic value is nothing more than an extension of an exceptional person, it achieves a level of authenticity that will endure through time. Miguel Salado, our Miguelito, the one we recorded in The New Frontier of Cante 2008Despite his young age, he has achieved it. That is why death has not entirely robbed him of his true triumph, and he is now with his fishing rod in those oceans of eternity. The same oceans that today are filled with tears saltier than ever. Farewell, my friend. ♦
