We live in the days of tricksters and magicians whose tricks are revealed from the inside. Bad times for lyrical poetry, which sang Low hits. But in Stops (Seville), at the end of June, these are days to continue remembering the singer Miguel Rubio VargasAnd we emphasize the verb "continue" because his flamenco figure and his profile as a Roman emperor remain in the memory of Paradeños fans, even if a thousand years have passed. Or even if twenty-eight years have passed since his death. They have passed in a breath, in the blink of an eye, in the memory of a third of his soleá.
That's why he is remembered every year. Peña Cultural Flamenca Miguel Vargas, with the collaboration of the City Council, organizing a memorial that, despite everything, continues to build bridges and open doors.
Miguel Vargas crossed the line between singer and myth years ago. His name, in young minds, is already legendary. There are fewer and fewer people who played with him and can tell us firsthand. Sources are dwindling as the years go by. Cartons, nor his nephew Curro, neither Blonde, neither Guerrilla…not so many and so many.
Friday night - which on Thursday was dedicated to the traditional floral offering in the cemetery, to his grave full of letters of Moreno Galvan– It was charged with electricity. Yes, electricity. But not static electricity, but dynamic electricity, where energy isn't destroyed, it's transformed.
And on a big night of flamenco, transformed The hubbub y Roe deer dew –from the port of Cádiz, who dances gracefully and rhythmically– the quiet shadows of the Paradeñas Gregorio Marañón GardensIts echoes sounded clear and truthful, like good bullfighters who throw the flannel around the bull's snout.
"El Puerto, Jerez, Seville, and Los Alcores, the voices of children and experience, all seasoned with the strong, pure temperament of Miguel's echoes."
For his part, El Barullo –glory to God in the highest and on earth rhythm to the men who know about this–, accompanied by the elegant guitar of the Jerez native Miguel Salado and the beat of The Yearling and Miguel Salado, is the authentic flavor of La Prazuela. What runs through his veins – the royal blood of Jerez flamenco – spills out in a powerful voice, without fanfare, clean and torn for centuries of centuries, that “they call me the crazy one”, that “the day you miss me”, that “no one saw me crying”, that “may I not have freedom in my path…”, that “let her drink”, that “this civilian has a bad time…”, and there it remains cante of the Moneo. Almost nothing.
A little earlier, on an evening presented by Rocío Escalera, the winds of the Bay of Cadiz had already split the palm trees of the gardens in two in the voice of the Corzo with tientos and tangos auroreando with art, soleá, bulerías al golpe and bulerías measured and mecidas. And on the verge of breaking into a thousand pieces the monument to Miguel was, by force of rhythm and more rhythm. Because that could not sound better, at the controls of Manuel Martin Vazquez.
Listen to things from the flamenco and Miguel in the innocent and true voice of children was a blessing. A privilege that the board of directors gives us every year peña. Just as it was a privilege to enjoy knowing the memory of the master José María Velázquez-GazteluDifferent tones, different experiences, different shapes… But the bottom of the well is the same: the freshness of cool water.
Saturday night was tempered with the young Sevillian Ismael de la Rosa The BallTogether with Joselito Acedo, and with the veteran of Los Alcores Jose de la Mena, with the touch of Mark Serratus. Ismael has a pleasant and melodic echo, and he knows what he is doing with it. cante, where it takes him and where it brings him. Honey and bacon from heaven in his voice. De la Mena, on the other hand, is strong and rises to heaven and comes down to earth with the ability of someone who knows his stuff and with the yayai tan of Miguel Vargas as his flag. cante for seguiriyas it was a marble monument to memory, a profane sacrifice in remembrance of the honoree.
The Last Night, presented by Paul Grill, was closed in flamenco From the usual, looking at the sky, the stars, at Miguel Vargas: the singer from Parada who was born in La Puebla de Cazalla. Meanwhile, the fountain jets in the gardens remained silent in the face of the murmur flamenco of Stops.
El Puerto, Jerez, Seville, and Los Alcores, the voices of children and experience, all seasoned with the strong, pure temperament of Miguel's echoes. ♦
