Songs of conviviality
In a tiny room in a semi abandoned village, hunging chorizo, strong aguardiente and a sparkling fire, we listen to ancient traditions stille alive, shepherds songs of border, walks, beauty and spring moons.
Thanks to: Perriles, Truli and the singing women of Tola
Recorded in Tola
LONG STORY SHORT
It has rained. In the dirt lane two small shepherd dogs, hay poking out of the sheets and the smell of cows, no one around. The Perriles and The Truli light a fire with dried cistus that smells of landscape and illuminates dozens of sausages hanging from the low, black ceiling of a small room, kitchen and living room, two meters by two, on one side a window through which the fog enters and on the other the fireplace, where whole grains of Portuguese coffee boil, ready to be diluted with casera grappa. Thighs of ham and black pudding, opposite to Holy Mary with baby Jesus and braids of garlic.
José claps his hands on the wooden bench and gives himself the beat, apologies, he has his voice down, as sings ancient songs of shepherds, women and smugglers, which to train memory, he repeats to his cows while working in the countryside.
While gnawing on chorizo, we remain listening, a little stunned and a little bewitched by the heat that smells of matanzas and street parties, but most of all by the subversive power of a crucial way of being together, ancient but not past, humbly harmonic.