Sirat announced he walked off the stage and we immediately realized it was not a promotional ploy but a sideways step laden with symbolism. We may be exaggerating today when we talk about the end of an era (or the world) for whatever reason, however His withdrawal invites us to a collective examination of conscience and balance in the way we understand life through Song folk shroud and cult, With a delicate poetic line that lifts the spirit.
It was a year ago when Sirat revealed this farewell tour, “El vicio de cantar 1965-2022”, without extension or possible gimmick, with the last stop in Palau Sant Jordi on Friday, December 23, a concert they will attend and add two more (20 and 22). Not far from where it all began, Calle Poeta Cabanyes, in Poble Sec, where he was born almost 79 years ago (he will celebrate his birthday on the 27th). Blessed tournée, this he who saw Double the dates and capacity wherever he goes, in Spain and in The AmericasAnd the With a variable and encyclopedic repertoire (He handles about 70 songs, of which he usually chooses between 22 and 24 each night.)And the He tries to include hymns and watermarks, his own poetry and the poetry of others (also his own and everyone’s), with such compositions that he makes it difficult to interrogate the crowds through a very personal reflection.
love to trade
He was developing his love for commerce when he dabbled in flour, it was Sirat who one day imagined a future as an agronomist, studies revealing a sensitivity to nature that would seep into his work, it was said, Sirat. In the early seasons, the appetite of the songwriters (“Ara que tinc vint anys”) subsides along with an appreciation of the landscape and daily life of the craftsmen, with Pay attention to some characters from the margins (“El drapaire”, “Els titelles”, “La balada per a un trobador”, “La tieta”), treated with great tenderness, And where you can breathe in the past and some of the wounds that come out of it with all the momentum of youth. in his musical language French-speaking imprint (Braille, Brassens, Aznavour), that in the future it will merge with other latent influences, from the copla to the folk song from abroad (the tango, the historiography submerged by Don Atahualpa Yupanqui). Floating in the environment memory of the disaster: the father, Josep, is a Confederate anarchist; Mother, Angeles, originally from the Bolshevik martyr.
Serrat thus heeded Lluís Serrahima’s call in his essay “Ens calen cançons d’ara” (“Germinabit” magazine, 1959), enlisting the thirteenth of Els Setze Jutges and committing himself to reinvigorating the Catalan-language aria into a full Francoisism. Twenty curious things, ready to delve into the tunes of another time, perhaps anachronistic, on the album Cançons tradicionals (1968), by Anthony Ross Marpa. It didn’t take long for him to express himself in his other language, his mother tongue, Spanish, though he did tighten the ropes with the system by wanting to defend Arcusa and De la Calva’s La la la in Catalan at Eurovision. But the self-titled album, known as La Paloma (1969), formalized the prodigy of a singer able to excel in two languages, an unusual case in the international field.
Poet, composer, performer
Today, many Catalan singers mix languages in their recordings, but Syrat Fadl always booked an album for each of them; A mental, emotional, and property space (and with nuances, a market). slowly, Serrat’s ‘Cançó de matinada’ (which was surprisingly number one in sales in Spain in 1966) or ‘Me’n vaig a peu’ led to ‘Your name tastes like grass’ and ‘Penélope’, and to a landmark ‘ The Mediterranean Sea’ (with a heady arrangement by Juan Carlos Calderón), and symbiosis with poets in his albums dedicated to Miguel Hernandez and Antonio Machado. A Sirat singer-songwriter, ready to act out every word, a Sirat player in a state of grace, with the marriage gift of poetic inflections and harmonic logic with an angel. Meaningful, but without artifice, translator, gifted to say texts with blunt accuracy.
With all this said, troubadour that would have been the subject of a cult for minorities ended up slipping into categories like light song or pop. Music, a powerful channel through which thoughts, feelings and sublime literature are conveyed. Always trying to find aware of the general impact of his art (or craft, as he modestly points out), skipping disagreements with show-show idols and repeating cliches: “The woman I love / I need not bathe every night in holy water” he sang, challenging a certain romantic ideal of femininity.
A voice among the ruins
Sirat has taken the singer-songwriter label at times with reservations, aware of the political aura that surrounds it. Their songs have always been broader and more varied, although it is true that, in the presence of Franco, it was not necessary to make a political song to be political. It could be anything, and a song like Fiesta, a celebration of popular communication beyond ideological and class distances (where the sour criticism was plotted), provoked censorship, softening the liberal edges of the text and forcing a change of “lilac” from “greens” rdquo;. The clash with the regime was already frontal when, in September 1975, While touring Mexico, Sirat denounced the recent executions that had cost him nearly a year’s exile.
It was a time when formerly Mexicans, for its increasingly close ties to Latin America, had taken refuge emotionally in the southern cone, as Syrat was a mirror and food for souls in the midst of a cycle of military coups and dictatorships. The fiery reunion episodes: Buenos Aires, 1983, seal of mutual affection in Luna Park; Santiago de Chile, 1990, crowded at the National Stadium. Serrat’s American dimension would become essential, reflected in albums such as “El sur also exists” (with texts by Uruguayan Mario Benedetti, 1985), or, later, the homage to boleros, tangos, milongas, rancheras and tonadas llaneras from “The Songs” (2000). Needless to say, on the other side of the Atlantic, it is common to learn of the existence of the Catalan language through Sirat.
nova canço thread
He never ceases to return to his mother tongue, whether it evokes the ‘poetry revolution’ and rdquor; so he presents it, epitomized by Salvat Papasit (“Res no és mesquí”, 1977), singing of Barcelona and the emerging mixed-race Catalonia (“Delicate Materials”, 1989) or He generously entered the (double) garden for “Banda sonora d’un temps, d’un país” (1996), a rendition of his “nova cançó” colleagues. And he delivers some of his most tender songs about maturity, such as “Cremant núvols” and “Plou al cor”, on the album “Mô” (2006), dedicated to the island of Menorca, his hideout in front of boisterous crowds. An introspective work, compatible with the long shots alliance with his friend and fan Joaquín Sabina (to whom he dedicated a 1990s hit, “My Cousin the Nano”).
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And even here. Or almost: Serrat leaves the door open to continue creating songs, and perhaps to record the freak album. He appreciates that it is time to get off the stage, freeing himself from more urgency and obligations than is necessary. Sirat turns the page on his relationship with the public (and with his manager of five decades, Jose Emilio Navarro, “Perry”): Incredible longevity which reminds us that he is a man of long fidelity).
Although in other concerts on this tour he occasionally had selected guests (Maria del Mar Bonet, Sully Jimenez, Rosalyn), in Barcelona he would not distract from his personality and circumstances. Passionate sugar nights are comingBut let no one think that they will attend a funeral: the Master does not want drama or melodrama, but joy and celebration of the road he has traveled. So be it.
