Arnau Tordera: "If I were to die, Catalonia would lose a unique piece of art that it is not capable of losing."

BarcelonaArnau Tordera (Tona, 1986), composer, guitarist and singer, is the leader of the group Obeses, he has created the musical Sardana Superstar and the opera The lost cat. Maybe you discovered it in a Marathon from TV3 singing Show must go on; in it FAQS, interpreting The Reapers at the top of Sant Jeroni, with just an electric guitar; or in one of his sections with Jordi Basté on RAC1. He has a degree in philosophy and has studied at the ESMUC (Spanish Academy of Music), the Taller de Músics (Music Workshop), and the Conservatori de Vic (Vic Conservatory). He has the talent, the discourse, and the aesthetics to go against the grain. His manner sometimes reminds me of Albert Serra's.

We sometimes argue about what Catalan literature is. What's the latest definition you come up with about what Catalan music is?

— Catalan music is music that is linked, in one way or another, to the music that has been made in this country for centuries and millennia. Any music that feels like an heir to this tradition and a future leader of that tradition is Catalan music.

Does it have to be in Catalan or can it be in Spanish?

— Catalan music is in Catalan. Music made in Catalonia may not have a language; it may be instrumental, and if it's linked to this tradition, it will be Catalan music. But, of course, if it has a language, it must be Catalan.

So music in Spanish made in Catalonia is not Catalan music?

— No, it is music that is linked to another tradition, absolutely respectable and in many cases brilliant.

Reggaeton, a genre that's been a hit in Catalonia and around the world, has become a hit lately. What's the secret to its success?

— Reggaeton, in fact, is a music that originates primarily in Latin America, which reverberates to some extent in North America, now in Europe, and finally in Catalonia. This should also be analyzed: why do we feel enslaved by global dynamics when it comes to consuming certain music? Its success here is explained by its success there. There are many musicians in Catalonia who simply reproduce a given formula within a framework of mass consumption.

Would you have preferred reggaeton not to have triumphed in Catalonia?

— I would like Catalonia to be able to generate its own styles, more authentic aesthetics. For me, reproducing in Catalan everything that's successful around the world is a formula that falls far short of the aspirations I would have for my country's culture.

What would you say is the last thing you've done for Catalonia?

— Staying alive. My very existence, with the position I have in this profession, is an act of kindness to Catalonia. In this sense, I would say that everything I do as an artist ends up being done more for my country than for myself. For my country's heritage.

So, keeping you alive is already good news for Catalonia?

— I think so. Above all, because of my uniqueness. If I were to die, artistically speaking, Catalonia would lose a unique piece that it can't afford to lose right now.

What is the last label that has been stuck on you?

— I've been slapped with countless labels, most of them pejorative. Some are linked to a certain media exposure, and others are linked to a probably exaggerated self-esteem. But for me, all of this is superfluous. I'm very aware of my place in this profession and in this country. In this sense, everything they say about me is relatively irrelevant to me, especially after several years of receiving varied and not entirely satisfactory feedback. Now, I have a more extensive body of work, and anyone willing to delve into it has found it to be of significant quality. All these pejorative comments have faded away, and more people have been exposed.

The last time I was talking about you with a friend, she told me: "He's a genius and he's over the moon." Genius is it a word you feel comfortable with?

— I find your friend funny, can you give me her contact information later?

He is from Osona.

— Fantastic. In Osona, I've been considered to be in a good qualitative position for many years now. The rest of the country has taken a little longer. I don't consider myself a genius at all, although sometimes I playfully extol these characteristics. I'm a very hard-working person; I'm a craftsman. The genius thing works more for the gallery and even from a publicity standpoint. I'm aware of all the limitations I have as a creator.

In one of the recent responses, the concept "my place within Catalan music" came up. What is that place?

— Right now, I feel like I'm an alternative to all this hegemonic thinking endorsed by a series of companies that dominate the sector, from a programming and promotion perspective, and that establish royalties. Those who have a purely economic interest in music are simply increasing this royalty.

What is the current fee in Catalonia?

— We had several years of pop-folk, where it seemed like that was the pinnacle of Catalan music. Years later, some festive music was released, and now it's obvious that so-called urban music is what dominates the media, at festivals—and I'm not even talking about major festivals, because they've disappeared; they've all become festival-like. My place is to point this out, because I must be aware of my social context and then be an alternative to all of this.

An alternative that seeks what?

— An alternative always seeks to destabilize the prevailing hegemony in society, because it believes that this situation is not the best possible.

Does this mean you're at odds with other musicians or festival programmers who focus on this music and not on that of Obeses or Arnau Tordera?

— Naturally. There's an obvious confrontation. They're betting on a model for the country and an artistic model that completely contradicts what I want for my country.

And how do you handle this confrontation?

— Well, right now, I'm subservient to a lack of festival programming and some conflicts with colleagues in the industry. There are colleagues of mine who graduated from ESMUC and have the potential to create music very different from what they're making, but they prefer to follow the placidity of the canon.

And doesn't everyone have the right to do whatever they want?

— Should an artist be someone who adapts to a placid circumstance that generates nothing for society? For me, artistic responsibility is to generate something that can interfere with people's lives. The canon only serves to maintain a status. This isn't art, to me. It's something superfluous, unnecessary. Why do you invest time in this?

To make people happy, to entertain them, to make them dance?

— Distract them from what? While you're dancing and distracted, what aren't you paying attention to?

In what?

— Well, all the injustices in the world, and we'd never end there. Obviously, I'm an idealist, but what are artists if not people who believe they have the ability to improve the world?

Have you seen the list of the latest Creus de Sant Jordi?

— Yes, not entirely. They give out so many that it's already unacceptable. Although it was conceived as an award to honor a career, to notable positions, it has been somewhat perverted by the political use of it all. For me, it should be something much more objective and transparent. I think society is also aware of this, and it ends up being something comical. When something that was intended to be transcendent and important ends up being comical, it loses all value.

Do you think you have earned the Creu de Sant Jordi?

— No, I don't think so. I'm at the beginning of my career. I hope to be a long-standing artist, which is something I've always admired about Verdi. He wrote his last opera at the age of 80.

You're from Tona, in Osona. Would you say that in Catalonia these days, being from a neighborhood has a more epic character than being from a village?

— No, not at all. This is what the people from the Barcelona neighborhood are trying to convey, because they have no other argument to cling to. The people from the neighborhood, who are usually from Barcelona, are much less experienced than the people from the town. You don't know anything, you've never left the city. On the other hand, we people from the town have traveled everywhere, we've always been commuting, we struggle with the Renfe train, we struggle with the C-17, we've experienced many more circumstances than the people from the Barcelona neighborhood. It's an argument I've had on several occasions with people from the neighborhood, and in the end they agree with me. A Barcelona resident is someone who hasn't left the city, knows little about the world. You haven't been to a town 20 kilometers from your house.

Why is a village person more experienced?

— First of all, because the wildness of the village already gives you an experience linked to a wild dimension of life. The villager is more connected to the forest, to a dark side of everything. If you look closely, there's something that's crystal clear to me: the most exciting crimes always take place in this more rural, more village-like setting. City crimes are more mundane; however, village crimes have a dimension that makes them especially compelling.

What were you demanding at the last demonstration you participated in?

— Phew, that would have been in the final year of the Process. I was demanding what I continue to demand: that this Catalan society, which has the legitimacy to do so, have the right to have its own state.

We return to the word "artist." In the villages, it's used jokingly: "Hey, artist!"

— It's always pejorative. If someone in a village calls you an artist and pats you on the shoulder, they're making fun of you.

There are artists I imagine in the supermarket, and others I don't. You're one of those I don't.

— Well, it's one of my small triumphs, that I can't be projected into circumstances that don't exalt human virtues. Everyone has their small achievements.

When was the last time you shaved your sideburns?

— I've been saying for years that it's time to find a different physical appearance. I grew a beard without a mustache. I liked it, it had an exotic feel, but I finally went back to that essence.

Behind every aesthetic decision, and especially in your case, there's a message. What's the message of your sideburns?

— It's a good headline. The headline would be your question. Over 20 years ago, I had a very long mane of hair; one day, I decided to cut my hair, and there was a lack of some characteristic element of my image, and I said, "What do you have at your disposal?" And what I had was facial hair. I opted for it without giving it much thought.

And yet, I see your sideburns now, and it connects me with your music and with the desire to connect you to a tradition. It's a face that could be from the late 18th or 19th century.

— For me, this is also a compliment. I've seen images of 19th-century peasants with barretinas and sideburns. People think Elvis Presley and such... Sorry, in the 19th century, Catalans already wore sideburns like this and had a similar image to mine.

What song are you listening to lately?

— I won't tell you a song, but a work. The last one I heard: a premiere by Bernat Vivancos at the Peralada Festival. He premiered some Holy Week responsories, a strictly choral work, which has been one of the most moving of my life.

The last words are yours.

— Well, thank you for these moments of mutual understanding. I haven't had the pleasure of being interviewed by you until today. From time to time, you rise through the ranks and there comes a time when you're interviewed by big names in Catalan journalism. In that sense, I'm pleased to have reached this new milestone.