Requiem For The Earth
Everyone should experience Flamenco music at least once in their life. The hauntingly beautiful mellifluous melodies, the earthiness of the hand-clapping, the agonizing passion of the singing and the rhythms of the guitars and the percussion are things that cannot be explained – they must be felt. The audience on Monday night certainly felt every moment of the 75 minute performance, resulting in two spontaneous standing ovations. Those of us who were there will carry the entire performance with us forever.
Paco Peña is, perhaps more so than any other Spanish guitarist, responsible for bringing flamenco to the world, and for educating us in the ways of a music form which has to be felt deep in the soul before a single note can be played. In this Requiem, the Maestro explores the damage we have done to our planet, and his guitar virtually weeps in the introduction. But this isn’t by any means a dark piece, even though it is full of melancholy and regret. There is joy too, and hope for the future, personified through the Voices of Biralee children’s choir. The senior choir presents us with some glorious singing, especially from two un-named sopranos whose voices soared in accompaniment to the Flamenco ensemble’s own incredible female singer.
Pena brings an eight-piece ensemble (himself included) consisting of a truly astonishing percussionist, 3 guitarists and four Flamenco singers. Whilst it might be said that Peña himself is not quite as dexterous as he was say twenty years ago (he is now 82), it is his finesse, his subtlety and the sheer heart-aching beauty of his tone that sweeps us away, and there are virtuoso performances from his fellow guitarists. The singers are full of passion and emotion and, even if one doesn’t understand the lyrics (in Spanish and Latin) it’s impossible not to be moved by the truth and poignancy in the voices.
It's a pity that there was no programme, nor information on the net, that put names to the extraordinarily gifted performers on stage. But perhaps that is intentional. Perhaps the Maestro wants the music, and its message, to speak for itself. And it does…the message is loud and clear, haunting and beautiful, and full of the hope that, if we listen hard enough we can still turn things around. Listen we did… and listen we must. Thank you Maestro for the gift.
Coral Drouyn
Photographer: Toni Blanco
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