Chano Lobato, the breadth and depth of Cádiz

 Because it’s cold and raining. Because of calamities. Because the so-called arte jondo promises, after the darkness of winter, a new spring of light and polka dots, tiriti tran and sherry punch. And because today I feel like talking about Juan Miguel Ramírez Sarabia (Cádiz 1927 – Seville 2009), undervalued and nearly forgotten, even though he only left us the day before yesterday. A flamenco singer who doesn’t twist you up inside or make your hair stand on end because his goal is different, yet no less meaningful.

Chano Lobato from Cádiz Cádiz, the European capital of wit and whimsical stories in the grand tradition of Pericón and Espeleta, among others. At the start of the current millennium, Tere Peña, from the illustrious Peña family, came up with the idea of recording a series of CD-books featuring the leading cantaores of that time. Thanks to that, twenty-five years later, we can still enjoy Azúcar Cande—a flawless recording with excellent written and visual documentation by Alfonso García, including an interview with Chano himself. Tere’s production fits Chano perfectly. Though not strictly a humorous singer or festero, he never moved in flamenco’s darker depths. Nor did he need to. Chano Lobato’s intensity had its own drama, often tongue-in-cheek, filtered through the essence of Cádiz, soaking up its light and salty air along the way. A flamenco ecosystem that no longer exists, except in the memory of the current generation, like the lively singer David Palomar. Twenty-five years after that recording, I`m highlighting it once more so these drops from La Tacita as Cádiz is dubbed do not fade into oblivion or dry up completely.

Everything in this album is richly flavored, like a box of chocolates where you don’t know which piece to grab first. A wealth of Spanish American collaborations brings a Caribbean breeze to the mix. Powerful personalities also make their appearance, such as María Jiménez in Cacharrito, or La Negra Tomasa, where Chano is backed by Cuban singer Lucrecia, setting a torrid scene like an August afternoon on Havana’s board-walk. The guitar is in the hands of the admirable Pedro Sierra. With all these high-quality ingredients, I suddenly feel a little less grown-up for always chasing after raw flamenco, the most aged voice, the most pained expression. Chano had his own way of being intense, authentic, and inimitable, shaped by countless hours of listening to the great masters of his youth.

«Twenty-five years after that recording, I`m highlighting it once more so these drops from La Tacita as Cádiz is dubbed do not fade into oblivion or dry up completely»

He absorbed the essence of Cádiz singing directly from the Santa María neighborhood through the teachings of maestro Aurelio, and went on to develop extensive knowledge of flamenco singing. In Madrid, he worked the circuit of the main flamenco clubs, gaining fame as a singer for dance at a time when this specialty was not widely appreciated. For many years he worked with the great Antonio as well as other stars such as Matilde Coral – the team of Chano and Matilde is legendary – and Manuela Vargas.

In his later years Chano performed as a solo singer, with perhaps more anecdotes than singing, often with innocent jabs at the expense of flamencologists. He would typically arrive on stage limping, escorted by young ushers, and leave dancing. Flamenco brought him to life.

In addition to flavorful songs, the album includes classic flamenco elements such as tangos from Cádiz, bulerías, soleá from Cádiz, and malagueña— a complete journey through the bay, like the old Vaporcito steam boat. But no matter how much the guest musicians left behind their respective Hispanic influences, Chano Lobato’s delightful flamenquería captivated them all, drawing them into his Cádiz-style charm.

Some time after making the record, I traveled alongside Chano on a return flight from Nimes. I would never see him again.