Sirat, the last stop in Madrid

Recently arrived from the southern summer (in Uruguay, they gave him a prize for Mario Benedetti, the poet who sang to him south is also present), I landed Juan Manuel Serrat tonight At the WiZink Center in Madrid it is as if he were in the court of his former comrades from Nights and Oblivion. Grateful that they waited for him another time, and now they gave in because the latter (in Madrid he had three sessions left, in Barcelona two, in December) every time they saw him sing on stage, he sang everything the crowd expected, from the first minute, which was Exactly nine o’clock at night.

There were people her age (she’s approaching eighty, which is the end of this month), pregnant women, young men, ministers, professionals, everyone. Help him interpret songs that now sound like a natural history of a time and a country. Some sought with their grandparents or parents in Sawt Sirat to confirm this thanks Nue del Buble SEC They didn’t share the age but the songs or what they explain to them about the perfect past of a voice that can’t be forgotten.

The applause was more like a common blessing given back, from his hand, by figures like Antonio Machado, Miguel Hernandez or his grandfather, El Foro, who had been assassinated by Franco and lost track of in a valley that no longer had grass. The frost By the poet from Orihuela It seemed in Wizinc as if Sirat had been brought to the surface for the first time in a country where the grandfather was part of a shattered future still had a sad glimmer in the gutters.

Dressed in a brown shirt, accompanied by his usual musicians (Ricard Miralles, at the piano, with his never-aging hands, had been with Sirat his whole life), Nano’s voice sounded with enthusiastic precision. He seems to have made the songs green again so that, in the nights and days in which the different generations of his listeners have departed, no one will forget that we once “were happy,” as his verses say. He introduced himself announcing kisses and hugs, “Lips spreading kisses…. There was no claim other than words and music that opened his soul to a song that people expected again, as if it were new. for freedom and mldr; Like lilies & rdquor;.

Accurate, light on musicians, the greatest legend of the author’s song in Spanish languages, had time for humor and gossip, and mischief, which began “Farewell to a city with so much love and complicity ” gave him “We love you!”, responded the voice from the stands, which responded like that again when evoking his childhood as a sailor in Poble Sec. Biographies abounded, Mother, Father, Who Killed Grandpa & mldr; his characters (“characters never get old”) who are still alive like The Mediterranean Sea which gave him a navigational chart in the history of songs which have the strongest aesthetic and poetic center in that melody which sounds like a birth certificate to a legion of followers: “Dewy in the morning, hot at noon.

No hesitation in a ceremony that felt more like a testament than a premiere, where Love (“The Woman I Love Needn’t”) and Other Secrets rekindles a memory she wanted to say goodbye before what happened, happens, remains Sirat renews his listeners, and that feeling of newness last night was in the voices that followed him with still lips.muttering songs that now, when they catch a glimpse of the past, seem to have just been taken from the poet’s imagination.

He sang and told jokes, ho Nue del Buble SEC He seemed like a neighborhood kid raising new kings (Queen of England, former King of Spain) and their grandchildren; He was funny and sentimental, as if he were at a table with friends where the legends of his time were present, such as Rafael Azcona also Manuel VincentOr entering a carousel or denying the existence of some of his songs (flamenco drum) It had a real root, or at least as real as the loneliness that survives in the small group of frost and mldr; “Oh my love, without you I don’t understand waking up.”

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The audience was delivered. Next to the journalist was the actor Jacob Dicentafifty years old, now from the cast Holy innocent In the theater with his star Fernando Huesca; behind the journalist Almudena, Irizah (knows and sings all the songs!); There were such poets RosalynAnd the Luis Garcia Montero also Joss mask; ministers, such as agriculture, Louis Planasor the presidency, Felix BolanosOther characters like Gregorio Maranonand an infinite number of other faces that made the crowd and mldr;

Nova Kanko Descendants, Generation 68 or Fellows Under Thirty Years of Age, Listening to Immortal whose words sound like part of an endless party, though the eldest member of the party tonight will certainly start to say goodbye.. Your name ”of course,”it tastes like grass”. That was an apotheosis.

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