Friday, May 5, 2023, 01:44
This Thursday we bet on the urban neofolk of Vicente Navarro, a sort of Rodrigos Cuevas without cross-dressing crossed with Manolo García, who performed at Sala BBK, in the post-modern cycle ‘Zero Point in 360º’, in which the seats are removed , a low-rise stage is placed in the middle of the venue, and the public can be placed around the stage, in those 360º of which only 270º were occupied, that is, the front and the two sides.
Thursday’s program proposed a duo opened by the keyboardist and vocalist from San Sebastian, Elena Setién, escorted by the guitarist from Navarre, Joseba Irazoki (in 50 minutes of cold and sad solemnity, especially in English, the two pieces in Basque stood out; in fact, Elena, who was at taste and was close, he made a recitation in English that could have translated directly), and finished off by Vicente Navarro in a trio completed by the Brazilians Brenda Sayuri (electronics) and Rubens Allan (guitar), who received more than respectable attention during their set in constant communion with the public who yelled ‘bravo’ and ‘olé’ at him.
Juan Vicente Navarro, from Madrid of La Mancha ancestry that reflects in his lyrics (he referred to “the mountain of my town” and sang of flocks of swifts and sparrows in different songs, of young wheat, of harvesting in a metaphorical way, of the sun, el río, los juncos y el camposanto), a musician who studied at the Rodolfo Halffter Conservatory in Móstoles (in the Sala BBK he played the transverse flute on one occasion) and an actor who later studied acting, debuted with the album ‘Casi Tierra’ (El Skylight, 2019; we were fascinated by its presentation in November 2020 at the Barakaldo Theater, 12 pieces in 59 minutes before 33 souls in full pandemic restrictions), and this time he brought under his arm his revalidation, ‘Las manos’ (El Tragaluz, 2022 , 17 songs in 73 minutes before 55 souls).
The audience surrounded the stage and Vicente, in the center of the circle, now sitting on the flamenco chair now standing up and shaking and stooping, presented a more than solemn liturgical songbook (the two most Moorish pieces paradoxically had religious references: the one of crossing himself in ‘Solitude makes you sleepy’, and the affirmation that there is no sin in the last of the encore, ‘El primero’), a mysterious, naturalistic, dreamlike and reverberant repertoire, synthetic in its bases (even the acoustic guitar multiplied in loops ), and love and sensuality from a gay point of view, in the manner of a less obvious and more elegant Rodrigo Cuevas (‘José’).
Vicente Navarro began as a Lambchop from the agro plateau (‘Marchar’), influenced folk (‘Un llano’, then Silvia Pérez Cruz in masculine ‘Los juncos’) sometimes obviously urban (‘La fuente’) and occasionally choral a la Ciudad Jara (‘En el río’; “a composition that hooked people in a very particular way”, he said when presenting it), he leaned into flamenco (‘La orquesta’, where he underlined its theatricality) and assimilated the copla (‘Una herida’), and in the triple encore he opted for gay sensuality (‘Esternón’, considered an LGTBI anthem by those who understand).