He is one of the most authoritative voices in Jerez FestivalHe possesses extensive experience and ample knowledge to produce an accurate analysis of what is placed on the tables of Villamarta Theatre every day. If in the silence of the night, in the darkness of the auditorium, they hear a timely "olé," it will surely come from row 16, where he sits. The Gomez of JerezIt doesn't always sound right; that means he's not enjoying it much. On the other hand, if his unique metal resonates strongly, it means the performance is going well, that he's excited.
It usually reaches Bar La Manzanilla Around 7:30 in the evening, an hour before the show starts, he usually sits at the same table—that chair at that table, we mean—on the corner of Mesones and Vera Cruz streets, and colleagues from the press, artists, and members of flamenco clubs come by to greet him. He's one of the icons of the Festival. He has a glass of amontillado and goes inside, with his cane and his Jerez style. "You always look very elegant," I tell him. "That's what you say," he replies. Sometimes he wears sunglasses, a tie, a pocket square, or he takes out shoes that are different from everyone else's. He has the soul of an artist, and it's reflected in his mannerisms, his gestures, and his expressions.
The flamenco singer from Jerez was born in 1952 and first took to the stage at the age of 15, when he was known as The Little MacarenaIf you want to know all the details that can be told about his artistic life, be sure to read the book. From Chipén, without ojana, of the journalist Fran Pereira (also currently president of the Chair of FlamencoJerez logyWe don't know how so many anecdotes about the same person can fit on those pages, although it's logical considering the artistic relationship that Antonio, as he's really called, has maintained for decades with Mario Maya o Antonio gadesTwo of his greatest influences. With Gades, especially, he traveled the world and took charge of his most unconfessed secrets; they were much more than just companions. He participated in works such as Carmen, Blood Wedding, El Amor Brujo or Fuenteovejuna, with forays into film. He knows almost every country in the world, he was part of the flamenco clubs of Madrid or Marbella… And so much more.
"The Festival gives me life. I see what's being done and I realize that Antonio Gades was ahead of his time, more ahead of his time than the high-speed train. I like to keep up with the state of dance, and when I enter the theater I get emotional. It's my life, and I can't live without being here."
He retired from the stage a few years ago and lives in his homeland, now witnessing the events flamencothose he frequents. "When I returned to Jerez I became friends with Isamay (former director of the Festival) and asked me to advise her on some matters, to be part of the jury for the awards, and here I am still,” she tells this publication. “The Festival gives me life; I see what’s being done and I realize that Antonio Gades was ahead of his time, more ahead of his time than the AVE high-speed train. I like to keep up with the state of dance, and when I enter the theater I get emotional; it’s my life, and I can’t live without being here,” she expresses passionately.
He has seen the exhibition grow with prominent names such as «Flowers Frame o Manuel Linan"...who started as kids and are now at the top," acknowledging that "I notice every detail, even the mistakes, although sometimes they're hard to spot." According to him, a flamenco singer who sings for a dancer must have "a sense of rhythm, a good voice, and know the dancer very well. The singer must sing to that specific dancer and not to so many others, because he won't truly get to know them on stage. I knew Gades even in his sleep after thirty years." Besides expressing his opinion on this matter, that is, voting for the Award for Cante of Support provided by the Local Federation of PeñaYes, your opinion is important for the Revelation Award of the cycle of Peña en Peña"They are investing in new talent there, and that's very important because they need to have space."
Regarding dance performances, El Gómez finds some lacking in them "choreography. It's one thing to dance a seguiriya or a soleá, but that's not a performance. You need rhythm and continuity, knowing how to use the means and tools you have. You need to give your fellow performers a place and let them know what they have to do. That's a performance," he concludes.
