Two's company

No time to talk. Busy, busy, busy. But this is so cool. OK it's not flamenco. But it is genius. Anyone who plays guitar will marvel. Or laugh. I've never tried playing one guitar with another person but I would imagine it is - at least at the start - enormously difficult, especially playing one bit with one hand, and another with the other. You'll see what I mean when you watch this - half way through.

Little Tip

Man, I'm busy. Not time for playing hardly. Back down to 20 minutes a day. That's not going to get me to Duende. So I'm going to start a series of Little Tips. Or it might not be a series, it might be the only one. We'll see. It's dependent on a) global economy & how busy it keeps me 2) me knowing enough about flamenco guitar to create a series.
Like your body and the way you sit or walk, think of your hand having posture. Keep standing your hand upright when you're playing a picado. Don't slouch. But not so much you look like an stuck up type. Your trying to balance strength and speed. It needs to have some roundness to create force.
Well that's what I've learnt so far. But hey I'm no Paco.

Travel Embargo

I've said it before: travel might broaden the mind but it doesn't help your guitar playing. Every time I go away I find myself craving my guitar. And I travel a lot.
So today at lunchtime I popped into a nearby guitar shop where I tried out one of those travel guitars. If you don't know what they are, see the picture. I played a Martin one. Guess what? They're rubbish. Well, they're rubbish for someone who plays flamenco. They have no body so it's nearly impossible to play most flamenco right hand techniques. There's nothing to rest your thumb on for rasgueado or picardo, nothing to tap your golpe on etc etc. It's obvious really. They have no body and the body is critical to flamenco. What was I thinking?! So what I might do is buy a quarter size classical guitar. I need to measure my bag and measure the guitar. I'll keep you posted.

Review: Nino de Ricardo Masters of Flamenco

This is great guitar playing. Beautiful, lyrical, feisty playing. From my position of ignorance, he reminds of Sabicas in that it is traditional & played straight ie. it's before Paco. But Sabicas is slightly flowery, showy, whereas Nino de Ricardo feels more kind of earthy, in his own bubble. Like he's playing for himself rather than for an audience. Which I love. Then again, what do I know, I'm just listening, he might have been a right show-off for all I know.
Because it's old some of the recordings don't sound so good. But that's flamenco for you.
As ever, here he is an action. Maybe I'm just a junkie for the old days, before everything was ruined by something I can't quite fathom. Then again, that's probably just bullshit.

Emergency Over

His nail isn't as bad as thought.
Thank God for that.
Now I need to get some practice in.
(I think that is practice with a 'c' rather than 's'. But I'm never certain. I always ask my work mate. He knows about these things. But he's not here right now. As I recall, practise with an 's' is a verb, the doing one; practice with a 'c' is the noun, the location or event one. The spelling idiots at Microsoft clearly know nothing.)

Only in flamenco...

It's been a few weeks. I've been away. Again. I didn't play guitar for a week. A whole week. But coming back & picking up my baby I played pretty well. I've got the Bulerias sort of nailed. As much as you can ever nail flamenco. But it's pretty good. So I was looking forward to my next lesson. I've only had one is the last 7 weeks. And in that time I've practised a lot. So I was out to impress. Get the teacher's nod.
And then I got a text. He's had an accident. He's broken his nail. Badly. But it's still his nail & if I told any one who didn't get flamenco they'd just laugh: you cancelled a lesson because of your nail? Only in flamenco...

Review: Paco Pena Fabulous Flamenco

I think this was the first flamenco LP I bought. I still absolutely love it. It's very traditional, which is what drew me to flamenco and still what drives my passion. There's perhaps a number of flamenco lovers who feel it is too predictable, or didn't move things forward. But I'd say it did simply by taking flamenco to a broader audience. And people still fill halls to see him: my mate emailed me from Boulder Colorado to say he'd got tickets to see him in a few weeks. he mixes passion with subtlety, craft with energy. Every track is a gem. Everything is beautifully played and well recorded (which is not necessarily true of flamenco from the 60s & early 70s). If you are looking for something to start your flamenco guitar collection this is as good as anything. 18 tracks of faultless, dramatic, evocative guitar playing. Buy it in the Amazon app to the left. Here's taster, the first track, the hypnotic Rondeñas.

Next Step

Maybe I'm getting cocky but I'm ready to move forward. Bulerias is done. I've learnt the last falsetta. It's a cool, smooth jazzy end in the circle of fifths (Dmaj7 - Dmaj7 with G bass (whatever that;s called - any ideas) - Cmaj7 - B diminished - E7 - Am. Nice. I'm practicing that & it's bedding in. But where to next? My guru thinks it should be Siguiriyas. But I wonder if that's too similar to what I've been learning. I kind of think I should try Tarantas, largely because it starts with the magic chord, the one I fell in love with, the one that carries me of to the heat and mountains of Andalusia. Listen to this version from Paco Pena. Sublime.

Gig review: En Mi Aire

I've been to lots of flamenco gigs over the last few years. But only now have I thought about reviewing them. And quite honestly, I don't feel very comfortable doing it. After all, I'm still learning...and what do I know? Do I have any right to critique someone's art, something I know they have dedicated their life to...way more so than I have & God knows I've put in some hours. So I say this with an acknowledgment of their expertise, their commitment and my own subjectivity.
The show had two halves, both structured in a similar way: 3 or 4 pieces, starting with song or guitar, then song with guitar, then with dance. I though the guitarist was great, Jesus Guerrero. Young and light fingered he played beautifully. Now I don't always think flamenco guitar should be beautiful, sometimes it benefits from being passionate, exciting, chaotic...but that wasn't his style. He played a great solea and I wish there was more of him. The dancer was unusual, lots of hips and angles. With a focus on shapes and body structure, it reminded me more of contemporary dance than the flamenco I'm familiar with. The singer had an intense vibratto and indeed great intensity. Again, I'm more familiar with a more robust sound, with more definition and certainly a less pronounced vibratto. I felt it got in the way. Overall though I didn't really connect with it. it was probably very technical but I wasn't carried along, there was no narrative to the structure, it didn't build and I didn't find myself carried along. it was kind of rational, and maybe technically excellent. Not my cup of tea. Which is sad because I took some friends & they were polite but I want them to see that flamenco can be a truly trans formative experience. This wasn't. So we'll go searching for something else.

The other side

I'm away again. No guitar. Well, there is in my friends house but it's a steel strung guitar and that's like Vegimite versus Marmite. You can't really like both. You pick a side. You pick the right side. I picked Marmite.
But we're in finger picking US of A territory and it's a musical household. So we listen to bluegrass, blues and folk. 12 stringers, banjo's, harmonies and energy. Lots of great stuff, lots of great playing. One day I'd like to really get to grips with these styles. One day. Maybe not in this life.
This afternoon we're off to a great guitar shop in Boulder, CO, where they have a full range of the guitar family. So I'll pick up a few & pretend I'm interested in buying. And that way I can satisfy my craving for some guitar. Even if it is steel based.

Review: Sabicas 'The Greatest Flamenco Guitarist'

Pure, real, traditional flamenco guitar. From a time when Spain was still hidden from the world and franco did his worst. It conjures up the myths each of us have about the perfect Spain...heat, dry fields, dramatic hills, white villages, girls with dramatic dark eyes. Fantastic playing. If you're into flamenco guitar or are learning to play, it's an absolute must.

If you want to buy it, you can from here. Look left, to that grey amazon thing. It's on that.

This is the man in action...

Fundamentals: rasgueado

From day one, there were two things I desperately wanted to get good at quickly. Unfortunately nothing happens quickly in learning flamenco. At least, not for me. Those two things were: the tremolo and the rasgueado.

To my mind they are uniquely flamenco. But that just shows how ignorant I am. I’ve since learnt that they are techniques that are commonly used in classical guitar. Does that mean flamenco took it and adopted it? Or t’other way round? No idea.

But what’s clear is that they sound wonderful in both styles. The most obvious difference is that in flamenco it, well, kind of ruder. Especially the rasgueado. Which is just about the most abusive, aggressive tool in any guitarists armoury. I’m surprised it hasn’t become standard in the rock guitar world. Maybe that’s because rock guitar is obsessed about left hand technique and pays (relatively) less time on the right hand.

It takes time to perfect. And my rolling rasgueado is at best stumbling. But whether 3 or 4 or 5 it rocks. And my wrist rasgueado is beginning to get some speed (occasionally erratic, like an old fiat.)

The best tip I heard was to practise in normal life. By that I mean, to flick out your fingers as you do other stuff. You know, normal life. The bit that usually gets in the way of perfecting technique. In this instance, it can help. On trains, planes, in the office, in meetings, at dinner, even (to the enormous annoyance of my beautiful other) as I’m nodding off.

This is something I found online that explains rasgueado in more detail. If you’re learning stick with it. One day you’ll find that it just clicks and you have the three things that perfect it: 1. speed 2. consistency in that speed 3. power - aggressive, energetic, life affirming power. I hope Paul doesn't mind. You can find it here:

http://www.wannalearn.com/Fine_Arts/Music/Instruments/Guitar/Flamenco_Guitar/rasgueado.html

The Art of Rasgueado
====================

(c) Paul Magnussen, 1995
All rights reserved

Rasgueado means "strummed" in Spanish, but in English the word is usually
used only to denote the rhythmically complex kind of strumming that is
characteristic of flamenco guitar.

There are two completely distinct kinds of rasgueado, each with its own
subtle variations: one produced by the fingers alone, and one produced by
a motion of the wrist. Classical guitarists are typically taught (and are
sometimes aware of, even) only the first.

The profound influence of Flamenco on the classical guitar repertory, both
directly and indirectly (through transcriptions of pieces by Albeniz,
etc.), means that a knowledge of these techniques is of great benefit
(indeed, is indispensable) to the guitarist who wishes to have a complete
vocabulary.

The following is the result of observation of, and interviews with, most
of the leading flamenco guitarists, with the notable exceptions of Ramon
Montoya, Nino Ricardo and Paco de Lucia. In particular, I had long
discussions at various times with my teachers, Paco Pena and Mario
Escudero. Nevertheless, the responsibility for any errors remains my own.

One thing that emerges very clearly is that each major flamenco guitarist
has his own preferred way of doing rasgueado, so that there is no single
"right" way" (although there may be "wrong" in the sense of untraditional,
or dysfunctional, ways).

1. The Basic Rasgueado
======================

1.1 Mechanics
-------------

The simplest rasgueado is performed from the basic (normal) hand position.

1) The fingers are curled (but NOT held tightly) into the palm of the
hand.

2) The little (x, sometimes written e) finger is allowed to fall downwards
across the string, followed in turn by the a, m and i fingers, thus
producing in principle four strummed chords, thus:

x a m i
-----------
|-----------|
| | | |
A A A A
| | | |

(The "A" is meant to denote an upward-pointing arrow (bass to treble), and
a "V" will be used for treble to bass.)

Note the following points, which are often the subject of misconceptions:

- It is NOT necessary for one finger to finish its travel before the next
one
begins.

- The fingers are NOT held tightly in the palm and "fired" across the
strings.

It is indeed possible, and legitimate, to play a rasgueado in this way;
but this it is not the basic rasgueado, it is used when a particular
percussive effect is desired.

1.2 Timing
----------

There are two distinct ways to use the basic rasgueado, and these are
often confused:

1) The chords may be played evenly, with each taking up (in principle),
the
time of a semiquaver (16th note), as shown above. All rasgueados
occurring
in BASIC flamenco forms may be represented this way, e.g. Bulerias:

i i i i x a m i i i
--- --- ----------- | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |-----------| | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| | V | | V A V A V A A A A V | V
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
x x | x x | x | x | | | | | | x |

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Here the x's are taps (golpes) on the body of the guitar. This shows the
modern way of playing bulerias. e.g. that of Paco Pena. Note that beat 10
is an upstroke of the index finger (following a rasgueado); we shall come
back to this in a minute.

2) However, the rasgueado may also be used as an ORNAMENT. In this case,
the
first three strokes will precede the beat slightly, and the final
stroke
will be ON the beat and take the emphasis: the first three strokes
occupying, (again in principle), theoretically no time, as in an
acciacatura.

(It defeats my ingenuity to notate this in ASCII. However, an example
from
the classical repertory would be the 7th-fret barre B7 chord in
Leyenda.)

Now let us return to the first case. We said that the rasgueado occupied
beat 9, with an upstroke of the index for beat 10.

In older times -- up to and including that of Sabicas -- the upstroke was
generally not played. The timing of the rasgueado was extended, so that
the final downstroke (with the index) fell on beat 10. We might then
represent the first part of the rasgueado as a triplet, thus:

|
v


3
i i i i x a m i i
--- --- ------- | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |-------| | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| | V | | V A V A V A A A A | V
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
x x | x x | x | x | | | | | x |

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12


Here, though, the link between notation and reality is starting to blur.
the important thing is that beat 10 should arrive on time; one could delay
the rasgueado by as much or little as one liked; could in fact, play it as
an ornament to beat 10, as described in 2) above.

Here, I think, is the source of the confusion between the two forms of
rasgueado. Nevertheless -- even though in this particular case one could
use either -- they are distinct.

1.3 Variations
--------------

When a very fast rasgueado is wanted, the stroke of the little finger can
be omitted. One hears this not infrequently (for example) in the playing
of Paco de Lucia.

Conversely, the rasgueado may be expanded by following it with a downward
stroke of the thumb. Or, the thumb may be allowed to travel downwards
with the final (index) finger, but not touching the strings, and then
brought UP across the strings (treble to bass) to complete the rasgueado.

2. Continuous rasgueado
=======================

Things really start to get complex when a continuous rasgueado is desired.

The first thing that occurs to one's thought is naturally to repeat a
single rasgueado multiple times. Here, though, we begin to hit a problem:
at the end of a single rasgueado the fingers are spread out, and it's
necessary to curl them into the palm again. However, the delay in doing
this nullifies the whole effect.

The solution is:

1) not to straighten the fingers entirely, but only as much as is
necessary to
complete a downward strum.

2) To bring the little finger back into the palm AS THE FIRST FINGER IS
MOVING FORWARD, and vice versa. This is not easy, and takes
considerable
practice. When mastered, however, it produces a beautiful drumroll
rasgueado of amazing evenness. This is the method preferred (for
example)
by Juanito Serrano, who was one if the "fenomenos" of the 50's and
60's.
(Juan is currently professor of guitar at UC Fresno.)

Another solution is to follow the final downstroke with an upstroke of the
index finger, which also brings the other fingers with it, preparing for
the next repetition. This makes five strokes per rasgueado, and a single
beat is thus a quintuplet. This is the method favoured by Paco Pena. e.g
in soleares -- here are the first three beats:

5 5
x a m i i x a m i i i i
--------------- --------------- ---
|---------------| |---------------| | |
| | | | | | | | | | | |
A A A A V A A A A V A V
| | | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | x |

1 2 3

More complex variations are also possible (Nino Ricardo apparently used to
START his rasgueado with an upstroke), but that would take me beyond the
scope of this basic explanation.

3. Triplets
============

There is another completely distinct form of rasgueado which is produced
by the wrist. It is extremely fast and powerful, and consists of one
upward motion and two downward motions. However, there is possibly even
more variation in execution between guitarists than with finger rasgueado.
In all cases, the hand departs from it basic position. I'll start with
what seems to me to be the simplest method, and then describe some
variations.

1) Curl your fingers loosely, and rest the ball of your thumb on the
index, as
if you were holding a plectrum (flatpick).

2) Make an upstroke with your thumb BACKWARDS (from treble to bass) across
the
strings of the guitar.

3) Now open your hand, strumming down with ALL the fingers at once across
the
strings, but leave your thumb where it is.

4) Now bring your thumb down across the strings to join the fingers. This
completes one iteration.

The up and down motions of the thumb should be made with a relaxed
rotation of the wrist, the opening of the hand being the third stroke.
Now you can try playing three of these triplets in a row, followed by a
final upstroke of the thumb, thus:

p h p p h p p h p p
--- --- --- --- --- ---
| | | | | | | | | |
V A A V A A V A A V
| | | | | | | | | |

This is a very common sequence (for example in bulerias, being substituted
for beats 7-8-9-10 show above.

A more subtle variation, capable of more light and shade, is used by Paco
Pena:

1) Up with the thumb
2) Down with the little (x) finger
3) Down with the first finger

p x i p x i p x i p
--- --- --- --- --- ---
| | | | | | | | | |
V A A V A A V A A V
| | | | | | | | | |

Paco also sometimes does a further permutation, substituting an upstroke
of the index for the first beat -- so that thumb is not used at all.

I seem to remember that Serranito uses thumb, index, middle:

p m i p m i p m i p
--- --- --- --- --- ---
| | | | | | | | | |
V A A V A A V A A V
| | | | | | | | | |

Conclusion
==========

Of course, much more could be said. And I am not especially an authority.

What all this goes to say is that you should experiment with all of these
methods; not just for a day or two, but until you can produce them ALL
fairly comfortably. Then pick the way that suits YOU best.

For printed music with rasguedos well notated, try:

Joseph Trotter's transcription of Sabicas and Escudero.
The Gendai Guitar (Japanese) series of Flamenco books.
Paco Pena's "Toques Flamencos" (this is out of print, but there are still
copies floating around).

Good luck!

Paul Magnussen

Beauty

Guitars are beautiful things. All of them. No matter what shape, or size...or indeed age. I've got a bunch and whilst I lveo some mroe than others, I love them all. I even have a sitar which whilst it's not a guitar, in my mind, is a sibling and equally beautiful.
This is a link to guy who makes beautiful flamenco guitars. I've no idea if they are great but it's a nice site. It also explains a little about the types of flamenco guitars and the key things to think about when buying.

http://www.flamencoguitarmaker.com/

There's also some beautiful photos on this link.

http://www.flamencoguitarmaker.com/fg3_page_e_workshop.htm

The first time

I haven't learnt anything new, any new parts, for several weeks. The same parts, repeated time & time again. Stopping to correct bits, work on them. Slowing them right down and counting to 12. making sure I've got each of the 11 falsettas spot on. Knowing when they come on 11 and when they come in on 12. And of course when they come in on 1. Or on the and. I have a crib sheet to make sure I am keeping to the right structure, the right order. From the top...
All the way through.
Then once again going back over the bits when it didn't quite happen, it didn't quite feel right. Nothing new. That's important. That's how you internalise it. That's how you begin to really get to grips with a specific part, a specific falsetta. Am I playing each not well, cleanly. Am I play it in exactly the right place. Now once I've done that can I give it something extra, can I make it rock, can I make it swing?
Then recount again if I need to.
Repeated every time I pick up the guitar. For several weeks. Sometimes playing for two or three hours a night.
My thumb nail breaks. Shit. I have to get the nail file out quickly to save it. There's plenty left, a good four millimetres. But not really enough to play it properly, especially on the alzapua thumb strum.
But I keep playing, repeating the falsetta that's all thumb because it isn't quite right. I start to get a blister on my thumb, the skin then hardens, it begins to catch a little. Another five days before my next lesson: let's hope it's grown back enough to play cleanly.
I keep playing. Go away to mates for a night so end up having to play his steel stung guitar, which is almost like playing another instrument nowadays. (Even though that's all I played for years.)
Then the lesson. We do the warm up techniques. And talk to much, as ever. Discuss the way that the Beatles used so many treble - as opposed to bass - runs. Then Bulerias. I play a few notes of the tricky falsetta to know I've got the right tempo for me. (A good tip to anyone.) Not too fast. Or indeed not too slow. (You can stumble just as much when it's slow.)
The go.
With the crib sheet for the first time. So I don't have to stress about what comes next, just focus on playing. (Another good tip. For free...)
11 falsettas later I get to the end.
And look up. ( I never look up when I'm playing in a lesson. It's too.... presumptuous?)
The man from Del Monte, he say:
"Great. Really good. Now (at last, he meant) we're beginning to play well..."

Hallelujah

You find it in the most unusual places...

I've been to Mumbai a few times. A one off. Like much of India, packed to the rafters with the most outrageous contradictions. And some of the best food in the world....but not a lot of flamenco (so I presume). Which allows the locals who do try to find out more the chance to see big names up close & personal: Carmen Cortes & Gerardo Nunez.

www.fractalenlightenment.com/2007/11/spanish-flamenco-performance

Lists

Good lesson last night. Played quite well. Too much talking as usual, not enough playing. But good nonetheless. But the Bulerias is stretching me to breaking point. Not just how hard it is to play but how hard it is to memorise. If it’s not bad enough having to think about technique, about timing, being able to count to 12 etc etc, now we’re up to 10 falsettas in the Bulerias. Ten. Imagine a rock song with 10 completely different sections. OK, the Grateful Dead did that, Dark Star being the classic example but they’re a one off. 10 compeltely different bits. So I’ve taken my general passion for writing lists (Writing a good list is so rewarding isn’t it?) and brought it into my flamenco world. The key to a good list is as follows:

1. It’s simple.
2. But only to you.
3. It should be written in some code you make up on the spot.
4. And later forget.
5. So you actually have to stop and think about the basis of your code then eventually remember.
6. Which means it isn’t actually that helpful for playing guitar.
7. because you have to stop so often to think about it.
8. Like some 16^th century cipher.

Here is my Bulerias list. See if you can figure it out. If you can, let me know what it means because I can’t remember.

Bulerias

1. D minor – c – Bb – A

2. fast falsetta from high E

3. bass run on A

4. run on E

5. syncopated riff on A

6. All the A’s

7. Tumbler

8. break on 3

9. Circle of 5ths

10. Am/ E7 falsetta

12

The count to 12. Er...maybe I should have talked about this earlier. It's the most important thing. I've said that much in post number 1 but if you're not into flamenco that doesn't tell you much. You might be a guitarist who plays some simple chords, or some great finger picking blues or whatever. You're not really going to get '12' unless i explain it a bit more. And then I'll explain how it becomes part of you.
The count is up to 12. Sometimes 11 and 12 are silent with the finale on 10...
Steady on. Too. Much. Information. Let's keep it real simple. The count is to 12 whereas most music the count is to 4. With a lot of rock the accent is on 2 & 4: dum DA,dum dum DA. (Christ it's not easy writing stuff like this down without looking like a 18 month old kid. The Indians have a way to describe it but I'm not going to learn that as well, I can barely keep my head above water as it is...)
With flamenco the accents occur on the path to 12 in regular but uneven ways. That's the key characteristic. It's not evenly split, it's uneven. It's not always the same (although it kind of is if you just imagine you're starting from a different place (WTF, starting from a different place from where I'm starting, that's just madness, how can you imagine you're starting from a different place, what kind of crazy talk is that. Are you on drugs?!)
Stick with me: for example, accents in Solea and Bulerias (although not always…sorry I’m just confusing you now aren’t I?) are on 3/6/8/10/12. So:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

When you start you’re just counting. It’s music, it’s not rhythm. You need to internalise it, you need to be it. So you need to put in the work.
Clap it out, tap your feet, drum on the steering wheel.
When you walk, count it.
If you go for a run, count it.
When you’re in meeting, count it (in your head, not out loud: people will think you’re losing it.)
When on a plane, nod your head to it.
When in bed, dream it.
Emphasise the accents.
I promise you this: after a couple of years it will almost feel right.
Then you’re beginning to be a flamenco.

The burden of travel

I’m about to go away for a few days. In fact, I’m away a lot. Which I like. I love experiencing new or old places. Just something different, a place to find out about people, about life. To grow, to find something new within you. Being in Spain is part of how I got hooked on flamenco - presumably like lots of other people who love flamenco. But when it comes to travelling, there’s one enormous problem: you can’t take your guitar with you.
Ok, maybe you can if you’re going away for a while and you’re not travelling around too much. And you aren’t moving around too much. Or don’t care about carrying loads of shit around with you as you move from place to place. And you don’t mind the way the airlines give you more and more hassle. Or the looks from the security people it. And so on. So: no guitar.
And then what? What do you do for a week when the thing that defines your daily life as much as anything - namely playing/learning – is not available to you? Now I’m not complaining, the travel is the most important thing. But it’s only human to get those cravings, to have that itch, the need to pick up a guitar, to pick some arpeggios, to spin your wrist, to hold down a chord that conjures up thoughts of the rolling hills in southern Spain. Which is ironic, because that’s where I’m going for the next few days. Tapas, wine, roling hills, flamenco…but no guitar. Wish me luck

Moraito Chico

Moraito Chico. Don’t know much about him but I gather he’s from Jerez. What a place… I was there last year and ended up in one of those very basic penas, when you’re not sure if it’s a tourist thing or more real. Then they start and they do something to you. So you don’t care with a tourist thing or not. Good for them. The group weren’t on for long but it had a anarchic energy. Very simple, very earthy, lots of fun. A few days later I got home and put on a CD I’d bought a few months earlier at the flamenco shop in Sevilla, a CD I’d fallen in love with. Flicking through the cover I realised it was same dudes I’d seen in Jerez. Check out the CD, a compilation called ‘Nueva frontera del cante de Jerez’. If you can’t find it anywhere, go to Sevilla and find the shop in the you-always-get-lost-in-them back streets. it will be well worth the effort. Even if you get lost.

Rules/break the rules

The lesson was ok last night. There are so many falsettas in the Bulerias I'm learning that I begin to get confused in the latter sections and it gets a bit messy. I know that this will get better as it gets hard wired into my brain. I can deal with that pain. For now.
Bulerias is generally in A major. But the bit I’m on now is in A minor. And it’s beautiful. Rhythmically it pretty straightforward, my fingers can do it even though it looks complicated and it sounds great. So the kind of flamenco I can impress people with straightaway. Nice.
The A mjor to minor thing is a reminder of one of the things I love about flamenco. In many ways flamenco is about rules: in terms of rhythm, the underlying musical structure, the techniques. In terms of the underlying musical structure it’s surprisingly like 12 bar blues: you know where you are going and kind of how you’ll get there. But then in flamenco – and to some extent 12 bar – the rules are thrown aside because someone just wants to. So we don’t stay in the major, we go to the minor. Or even when we stay in the major we play a note in the scale that we shouldn’t. In A major you go to both C & Db. It should work. But it does work. It doesn’t necessarily make ‘sense’ but once you do it – and only once you actually do it - you understand. In fact it’s so perfect that when you try it the ‘proper’ way, it sounds dull, predictable, lifeless….in fact wrong.
I don’t invent in flamenco yet, other than some arsing about. Certainly nothing I’d call writing or creating. It’s not ingrained enough. But I know that when I’ll do I’ll look at the ‘rules’ and then figure out ways to break them, flamenco ways, which I guess is about technique or semi-tones and dissonance. Who knows when…

Tomatito

Tomatito, looking young and very much in the groove. The dude who posted it has a nice insight:
This 1980, Tomatito was way ahead of his time with modern syncopation. Despite his modern style, he keeps an earthy “gipsy” sound in his playing.
There’s a great shot around 1.30 when you see his left hand posture: it’s perfect. I feel my hand slips too much, it kind of crumbles and I use the base of my first finger/V of my hand as a crutch. So this reminds I need to be aware of this clip as I practise. I love his LP ‘Spain’ from 2000 with the jazz pianist Michel Camilo.

Vicente Gomez

Vicente Gomez. I love this old shit. But I think my guru would comment on his thumb technique - ’ from the wrist, not the thumb joint’ !

Meditation & Rasgueado

I have a Chinese friend, a modern Chinese dude who runs his own business & works like his life depends on it. Long, long hours. Lots of stress. He wasn’t sleeping so he started meditating. And in a way that no one other then the most driven would, he started really meditating. He gets out of bed at 5 and for two hours he meditates. He stars by breathing to a count. He concentrates very precisely on the movement of the breath. His thought is focused on the breath going in through his nose, but more precisely through each nostril. He doesn’t think about it as such, he just makes sure he is aware of it as the air goes through his nostrils then out again. All to a count. After a while he stops being aware of his awareness, even though he still counts and still has perfect technique. He just is. He is at one with his meditation and therefore himself.

Last night I realised that is what I seek with the various Rasgueado techniques I’m working on. I had time. There were no distractions so I spend a couple of hours of quality time. There are two particular techniques I’m working on at the moment.

First, is the 5 finger rolling rasgueado. I’ve been doing the standard 5 finger rasgueado since the beginning. I can do it. The technique is good and the Bulerias has pushed it so that it’s is very even, very fast and each strike is clear and percussive. But I’ve found that to do that in the rolling form is very different. I always lose a tiny fragment of a second between the first finger upstroke and the subsequent down stroke on the pinkie. I’ve been working on pinkie strength, exercising the finger as I’m doing other things, like real life. After an hour or so I nearly got there. For spells of four or five rolls it was good. Then it could slip and I couldn’t get it back, until it just happened. Then I would lose it again. I need to keep doing that until it’s consistent.

Second is the 3 finger roll, the one using upstroke from the thumb (p), down on pinkie (e), down on first (i). I need to get it faster so I can build a crescendo into the roll, which I regard as one of the classic flamenco techniques. You role it from your wrist, so it needs to be relaxed. But I was finding that as I got faster I would sometimes miss the pinkie stroke, or sometimes the first finger stroke. Last night, after a couple of hours it was getting there: good technique, good rhythm, fast. And then, poof, it would go.

But the morale of the story is simple. I know it’s not good enough to play for 15 minutes a day. That helps at the start. But to get good, to play flamenco, I need to sit down and push myself: my fingers, my concentration, my internal rhythm counter. I need these two/three hour sessions if I’m going to get there. Sure, if I can only do 15 minutes because that bastard Life is in the way, I’ll do it. But I have to find the time. I have to cancel stuff, stop doing things. Otherwise I’ll never be like the fella above.

Vicente Amigo

I’ve heard a load of solea. It’s the first thing I tried to play. I play it. or at least some of it, every time I pick up a guitar. It’s beginning to feel natural. I don’t have to count it out to 12 anymore. I know what happens and feel it. Which I don’t when I play Bulerias, even though it’s just the same count to 12. Anyway, even though I’ve heard & played it it so much I never tire of hearing someone new play it. Every time I learn something; more importantly, every time something new moves me. Here’s Vicente Amigo. What a great rasgueado. If you like, check out his LP Poeta.

Almost cut my hair

But I didn’t. I cut my nails instead. I have this obsession about them, a method that I’ve perfected over the years. However, sometimes I’m a little too zealous. I always do it after I’ve soaked my hands, either after a bath or having done the dishes. That allows me to cut them super short. But sometimes I cut them a little too short and as a result I the flesh is unprotected. After an hour or two of playing the tips of my fingers start to hurt. And you can’t keep playing. So on Saturday i couldn’t really play. I didn’t crack the chord.
It’s the little things that can make a difference. You have to obsess about everything. Otherwise you’ll never be able to do this...

One step forward, two steps back

One step forward, two steps back

Some days it feels like I’m making the unnatural chord natural. Other days it feels like I might as well be trying to fret it with y feet. And to compound it all Life has been getting in the way.

Life is a bugger like that. I guess life hangs around until these moments, the moments when you need a little time, a little pace. Then, with an evil laugh, Life comes from the shadows and wraps its evil arms around you so that no matter how hard to try to wriggle free you can’t. As a result, the unnatural chord remains unnatural. You wake up, bolt upright, in the middle of the night, knowing that you’re wasting time in bed when you should be getting your fingers around that sodding chord. But, no, you have to sleep because smart arse Life wants you to do all sorts tomorrow and if you don’t sleep you won’t be able to do it, you’ll get found out, lose your job, the missus will leave you, the debt collector will come knocking and be on the streets in no time. ‘Life’: what a twat.

Today though is Saturday. And my girlfriend is going out tonight. So I’m going to have a lad night in, singular. Me and the guitar and I’m going to crack that bastard chord once and for all.

Sabicas

Sabicas.I guess I love the stuff that get’s called traditional, flamenco old skool. Maybe I romanticise this but I want to believe it’s a link with an older, purer form. And therefore an older, purer world. It represents something that’s been lost. But that’s a bigger story, a deeper story and one that deserves it’s own time

Trying to get my brain to stop working

So now the work begins. I sat for an hour this morning, not playing the falsetto, but just playing that chord, the unnatural chord. Moving my 2nd finger from the 3rd fret to the 4th. Again and again and again. Teaching the neurons in my brain what I want them to start doing without my asking. Muscle memory. Repetition until it becomes second nature. Apparently the fundamental rule of neural activity: those that fire together wire together.

In summary: I'm trying to get my brain to stop thinking. That's the mission of all guitarists.

Twister

Twister for Christ's sake. I never played it. Or maybe I did (and now I'm thinking about it, I have a vague very unpleasant recollection of an incident aged about 8 at a birthday party, but I'm going to suppress that quickly). It was one slip away from all sorts of unholy trouble. And even when it was played by the rules, who wants to bump & grind with your drunk Auntie at Christmas. You put your leg just here and I'll put my arm round there... And so on. It's just not right. Put th telly for sake and let Bond show us how it's done. So Twister: I never wanted to be there. And I don't want to go back.

Which is why last night's lesson took a very peculiar turn late on.

It has seemed to be going pretty well. Arpeggios: very good. Bulerias, mostly good, few fumbles on the newer falsettos but that's forgivable. Strong compas. That's the main thing. (Of course, when I say strong compas I don't mean the greatest dancers of the form where tapping their feet: I just mean, for a learner, it was solid, consistent, and got to 12. )

As ever, we go back over a fre bits. Play a slur there. Make sure the pull off is clean. You don't have to tap the space but if it helps you, keep it for now

Then we move onto the new falsetto. In terms of right hand technique, it very familiar; in fact, it's the same as in falsetto 3: thumb played through the 5th, rest on the 4th for a beat then play a strum across all strings before strumming back up with the back of the thumb nail. To begin with it takes some getting used to, especially maintaining control in the upstroke but any guitar player will get it pretty quickly. Even I did.

But the left hand...what the bejeesus was that?! He plays again. No. I can't make it out. Now, there is a theory in psychology called cognitive dissonance. It's got nothing to do with musical dissonance and everything to do with the way or human brain reacts to incredible circumstances: if it doesn’t fit with our understanding of how the world works, even when we .have seen it with our own two eyes, we try to discount it.

I was going through my guitar cognitive dissonance. I had seen a man put his finger from his left hand on a fretboard in a way that did not compute. It broke all rules of physics, bio-mechanics and, like Twister, decency. I’m going to try to draw it.

E--0

B--3

G--3

D--0

A--4

E—0

You are probably looking at that and thinking: so what?

But bear in mind that it’s part of a complicated falsetto. And it’s being played very fast. And most importantly of all: you need to have made a pact with the devil so you can play it with your forth finger on D (or B3 if you can only follow tab); 3^rd finger on Bb (G3) and 2^nd finger on Db (A4). Yes, you heard me right: 2^nd finger on Db. That means putting your 2^nd finger ahead of your 3^rd & 4^th. Which really means putting it where your non-existent 5^th finger would go. WTF!!! It’s so unnatural that in the dark ages, people would have screamed witch and bonfires would have been lit/ropes tie in that circular shape..

I’ve tried to play it tonight. It can’t be done. I’ll spend the next two weeks trying to prove to teacher that it can be done. I’ll fail. And I’ll make no in-roads into the rest of my playing.

A toast: to futility.

Bad Timing

I have a lesson in 15 minutes. So I’ll be brief.

Last time was OK. or so i thought. I played reasonably well. But we talked too much and ran out of time. So there was no new falsetto. Or am I kidding myself. Was it that he thought I was too shoddy and I needed more time to find it, to connect with the falsetto on the A’s. I went back to the basics. Sorted out the timing. The first downstroke is on the ‘and’, specifically on the 11 ‘and’ - and as any speaker knows because it’s got two syllables it not a good one for counting it out. I’ve tried going to 10 then 1-2 then 1 again to 10. But jeez that is surprisingly difficult when you’re trying to play some mean guitar.

So think of me, counting out loud as I ride my bike to my lesson, hitting the handle bars to the ‘and’. And hope I get it right in the lesson. Because in the lesson the truth is out.

Lesson number 25-ish

Played badly. Actually, I played the basic technique exercises well - 4 note arpeggios, 6 note, triplets across all strings. Smooth, quite fast, good rhythm. Then my teacher pulled out an old exercise we haven't done for a long time, one that switches the picking: 6-5-4-5-3-5-4-5...5-4-3-4-2-4-3-4. First I forgot the chord progression, then my fingers fall apart. After that, it's all downhill. Play Bulerias. It’s not terrible but the compas is poor. And my technique creeps as the glare of my teacher intensifies: I start playing my thumb strokes from my thumb instead of from my wrist; my three finger rasgueado sometimes becomes a 2 finger rasgueado. He reminds me: sit in front of a mirror, watch your technique. If it still sounds good that’s not so bad but it’s undermining your attack and therefore your flamenco feel.
However, I don’t like the mirror. I don’t like watching myself. You should never see yourself as others do, you should live in your own mind. Watching your self is what narcissistic actors do and the greedily ambitious young politician as they climb the slippery pole. But I’ll do it, for the sake of my technique, for the sake of flamenco, and remember these points:
1. Play your thumb from your wrist not your thumb. Your thumb should stay in front of your first finger always.
2. Play the rasgueado slowly and deliberately until you’re certain you have the rhythm. Keep the count, feel the count. Be aggressive to internalise it. Then speed up. Drop it into your practising regularly. For the rest of your life.
3. Remember: in Bulerias everything starts on 12. Apart from when it starts on 11. And apart from when it starts on 1. And apparently apart from when it starts on 4, the half compass that I hear about but like the young boy fearful of kissing a girl for the first time am frightened of.
So, back to the mirror….

Why?

I came from a place where music was everywhere. Every house had a guitar, or a piano, or even just a few pots to bang and a mouth organ. We'd sing the old songs, about the places our forefathers came from, and the new songs that now everyone in the world knows. Because I'm from Liverpool and our local heroes (amongst others) were The Beatles. I didn't know they were famous. They were just songs we sang about a world we were all familiar with, Penny Lane, girls called Jude, holes in Lancashire. At every party we went to, the instruments would come out, the beer would flow and the voices would be raised in harmony. So it's no surprise that I learnt to play guitar and sing a bit. And over the years I've played guitar and sang a lot. I was one of the blokes in the kitchen, dragging a people away from the main action at parties, creating a mass sing along to a Beatles classic, or REM, or Simon & Garfunkel. Beautiful, raucous, melodic drunken fun.

But then something happened that changed how I understood music: I saw Paco de Lucia play. And I realised I'd missed half the story, that music was this much bigger world. Because, like many people from my kind of background, I'd been listening in 4/4. And now I needed to learn to count to 12.

That's what this is about: my journey learning to count to 12. Because when you are brought up in a world of 4/4, flamenco is about 12. And flamenco is what I've become obsessed about. I'm two years in and I'm getting there. But. Very.Very. Slowly. I've signed up to it for life. One day I'll be a good flamenco guitarist. As it stands, I'm a very bad flamenco guitarist. But that's a start. At least you'd know it was flamenco. I’ll get there. Hopefully I’ve got years left. This is a collection of thoughts on that journey.

This is a video of the man who got me started.

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