Tomatito continues Flamenco

In the beginning of April guitarist Tomatito was in the Netherlands for two concerts. Because of his tight co-operation with Camarón and of course because of his inimitable guitar play, he has already acquired a legendary reputation in life. Young singers are lining up to record an album with him and young guitarists sweat on his falsetas. He is one of the pioneers of modern flamenco and considers flamenco to be an open kind of music. "But flamenco can't go in other directions, because then it stops being flamenco."

On Tuesday night April 1st a packed Paradiso breathes the atmosphere of a family reunion. All over flamenco lovers meet and greet each other, in joyous excitement on what is to come. No, apparently it's no April fools joke, when Tomatito strolls onto the stage with his guitar. He receives the cheers and applause from the audience with an almost apologizing nod. It goes quiet when he starts to play. Fascinated the public gets carried away by the music of one man and a guitar, and is whipped up by dizzying bulerías. Tomatito smiles after every successful falseta, as if the guitar surprises and enchants him as well.
Other artists announce themselves. Potito, who, at the early age of 20, is already a major player of the 'jovenes flamencos', sings without much devotion before the interval, but comes to life in the second part by the bulerías of the guitarist. Dancer Joselito Fernández dances only once. Tomatito makes the show throughout. The crowd shouts for more and then sees him - after a few more steps of bulerías - disappear between the curtains.

Who is this guitar master? The facts are known: José Fernández Torres, born in Almería in 1958, inherited his nickname ‘little tomato’ from his grandfather, also guitarist, and father, director, who were both called Tomate. At an early age he was discovered by Paco de Lucía and was allowed to play on the records of Camarón de la Isla. When Paco de Lucía broke of the co-operation with Camarón, Tomatito continued. The duo was inseparable until Camaróns demise in 1992. Since then Tomatito has accompanied many artists, and made a name for himself as a solo guitarist, amongst other things with the CD's Barrio Negro (1991) and Guitarra Gitana (1996).

But how does he view the flamenco and his own role? To find this out, we (your reporter assisted by guitarists Gerard Postma and José Adame Sanchez) went to his hotel for an interview the next day. In any case Tomatito doesn't have an attitude. Dressed in a black tracksuit he walks unnoticed into the hotel and pleasantly takes the time to talk to us. With the fiery performance of the previous evening still clear in my mind, I ask him if he prefers to perform or record the records:
"Of course I prefer to play live. A CD is more professional, better polished: here you stop, and you continue there .... The technique demands that it should sound a certain way. You have to set the compás rhythm, play in tune, combine this music with that. It's different. At a concert there's the audience. Someone says something to you and you answer. Your head works at top speed. There's no comparison of an audience that's yours and that comes to see you. I will start touring Germany and I am sure that the music will change somewhat from day to day. One day I'll stop here, the next I'll continue there. That's flamenco, isn't it?"
He has great admiration for his former teacher Paco de Lucía: "He is the greatest of all of us and he's the boss." As opposed to De Lucía, Tomatito doesn't experiment with other forms of music, like jazz and South American. "I think that the flamenco guitar is rich enough in itself, the way it sounds. I prefer to play basic things as well as I can and find new things in that. I don't say: flamenco is like this and that, and that's it. For me flamenco is an open kind of music, but always without losing it's own identity."
The other man of consequence in his life was Camarón. Tomatito's solo career is always been seen in connection with the demise of Camarón, as if  he stepped out of Camarón's shadow then. How does he feel about that himself? Is it this simple?
"No, it's hard," he sight and his voice goes softer. "I was very content and very happy with Camarón, all my life with him. If he hadn't passed away, I would have been with him always. I wouldn't have become a solo guitarist, because he's my idol. I prefer singing to the guitar, because the voice is a natural instrument and the guitar is made. Let a child play guitar eight hours a day and in ten years he'll be a virtuoso and he can make a living of it. Not so for the voice. I can study it eight hours every day, and still I'll never learn to sing. You've got it, or you don't. I was content with Camarón, but after that I had to either stand on the market, or force myself to go solo. And bit by bit I found a way to continue and play my music."
Does Tomatito feel like a godfather for the jovenes flamencos, who would love to record albums with him?
"Oh, if I can help with that which Camarón left me, the power of my name as the guitarist that accompanied Camarón, then I will. I think we have the task to continue flamenco. Yes, they are younger than I, but I prefer to see myself as an older brother, not as a father, because I haven't gotten to that yet.
He also offers help to young guitarists using by a training-video (which was earlier discussed in aficionao). Gerard can't help but asking if he realizes how difficult this video is. Tomatito smiles apologizing: "It's a bit difficult for people who are studying. And if one of my falsetas costs me a lot of work, then it might cost somebody else twice as much work. But everything you like, you learn bit by bit. And then a video like this can be a way to stimulate, without wrestling" - and he depicts an overzealous guitarist playing from the screen like a madman - "I'm not a teaching teacher. In Spain there's many people playing my music. For them the video is a way to take it in, at home with bread and a glass of wine" - and in illustration of this he sags.
He agrees with Gerard that flamenco in Spain is becoming a top sport. "But athletes have to be born as well. In Spain there's guitarists and artists. there's many guitarists, professional, competitive, that play well. But there's also artists that don't run as much, but end up better. Paco de Lucía is supposed to be faster that any, if he'd want to. But that's not the issue. It's the heart. If you play really fast, you can end up with noise and you can't hear a thing. But you have to tell people a story. I belief that the guitar is a universal language, without words. And all guitarists are equal, because all people, all countries, all races have a heart and feel things their way. You have to study, listen to flamenco, old and new, just like the rest of us, and that's how you learn."
"Where does flamenco go in the future?" an Italian journalist wants to know who has joined us. Tomatito answers very resolute: "I think that flamenco will always remain in it's place. Because the new things that come out, like Pata Negra, are very good and draw a crowd. But the people who want to hear flamenco, will go - thanks to them - also to other places. You have to look for the authentic style, you have to deepen the well to where you can find water. Camarón drew a big crowd for flamenco. He had something modern and such a beautiful voice, that appealed to all kinds of people, also younger people, who thanks to him became acquainted with historic singers like Terremoto and Manuel Torre. Flamenco cannot go in other directions, because flamenco is flamenco. Even Paco de Lucía is more fond of his flamenco albums, than of those with Al di Meola. In the end he prefers to play a seguiriya that sounds very flamenco, or a beautiful taranta, than a South American rumba.
If flamenco loses its foundation, it's not flamenco anymore. And then it will no longer appeal to the public. You love flamenco, because it sounds flamenco. For example, in my music I can play a passage in a different way, that you will say: it's nice, it's musically correct; a modern falseta, fine, but the end is still: tateriámtateram! Get it?

Marlies Jansen

(English translation Carmen Morilla, 01 February, 1999)