A Compas! Paco Pena - The Book Depository [2CD]

opis:
Editor's info:
The CDs are, commendably, in a gatefold jewel case of normal size, which thus fits into standard CD storage units of whatever make.

The booklet is attractive, but I could wish it contained more information. There is no recording date or location, but more importantly, many of the rhythms whose compelling nature is to be transmitted to the audience are not even identified. "La guitarra solista" is in fact a petenera. The item identified merely as "Zorongo" is Sabicas's medley of that tune and "Los cuatro muleros", known (among other titles) as "Guadalquivir". The compás being explored is that of the martinete beaten out on an anvil, and the new rhythm is a bulería.

The Montoya referred to is of course Ramón, not Carlos. The farruca is mostly that from Sabicas's famous "Flamenco Puro" album, and "Mantilla y peina" is Paco's well-known guajira that he plays as a solo on Azahara (and also on Fabulous Flamenco), but here accompanied by nice 2nd and 3rd guitar parts. The rondena is naturally Montoya's, and the "Zapateado en Re" Sabicas's, here again with a discreet accompaniment.

The most unfortunate thing about the album is the banding: the Montoya/Sabicas tribute, weighing in at a hefty 23'20", is one long unindexed track, so there's no way to select the individual items, and the same applies to to the Palillos Rítmicos.

THE MUSIC

The alboreá is a Gypsy wedding song, until relatively recent never performed for outsiders. It is usually set to the rhythm of the tango or the soleá por bulería, depending on the region it comes from. The version here seems to fall into the latter category, but although the lyrics are conventional, the rhythm is unusual, and I found it fascinating.

The albums embraces a wide range of styles. While some of the pieces sound very traditional, others are far more modern. In particular, the zapateado is very adventurous both rhythmically and harmonically, and quite unlike anything I've heard Paco do before, as is the bulería. (Exactly what the former is doing in the tribute is something of a mystery, since it's also quite unlike anything produced by Montoya or Sabicas.)

THE RECORDING

The effective transfer to a solely audio medium of any performance involving dancers is a project fraught with difficulties that the present album does not entirely escape. Inevitably, there are passages where the guitar and voice are silent, and the only sound is that of the dancer's heels, and the listener's attention, devoid of any visual stimulus, may wander. Then there are the occasions when the audience laughs -- at what? When several dancers are involved, it requires a fine touch from the sound engineer to prevent the result from sounding like a heard of stampeding elephants.

A compás, though recorded live, is exemplary in this regard. It seems to miked fairly close in, so that the performers appear to be in your living room, rather than many yards away as they would be in a concert hall. The applause between numbers is further away. There is just a slight touch of reverb that I thought ideal.