Rosalía, a talent out of measure at Palau Sant Jordi

Thousands of videos and chronicles shared on social media and in the press have explained in great detail the show that Rosalía premiered in Lyon on March 16. There has been an avalanche of aesthetic, scenic, musical, and even psychological interpretations of this show that has the album Lux as its backbone. With all these fragmented impacts, it is possible to form an opinion about the concert, to marvel at and admire the proposal of the artist from Sant Esteve Sesrovires. However, experiencing the show live is something else, much more impactful, as she demonstrated in the first of the four concerts at the Palau Sant Jordi, all four with tickets sold out.

Regarding the novelties compared to other performances on the tour, the subtitles to follow the lyrics of the songs were in Catalan. Another novelty was the tears of gratitude to the audience and Barcelona. "Today my heart was racing because I'm at home. I was so eager to return," she explained. "Singing in your city is the most intense and rewarding thing, and also the most intimidating," she added in a brief speech in which she recalled that Peret had once advised her not to get nervous before singing. The third novelty has to do with the confessional, where the actress Yolanda Ramos sat, who told a story that was both funny and pathetic about a bad experience with a musician from Taller de Músics, a pubic wax, and a glass of water full of hairs.

A overwhelming start

Bold by nature, Rosalía is at an artistic level difficult to surpass. The ambition and care with which she has designed the show and the sound is overwhelming, and it may be that the impact of experiencing a Rosalía concert is more powerful than the impact conveyed by the performance of the songs. The merit of the author of Lux is to achieve both at the same time, and to make it very clear in the first act, one of the most impressive concert openings in recent years. Half an hour late, she appeared to pour out emotion and force, linking Sexo, violencia y llantas, Reliquia (extraordinary voice), Porcelana and Divinize (with the coda of Thank you by Dido) while the scenography hosted a fragile dancer on stage and the music, very powerful, balanced the electronic sound and that of the mega-amplified chamber orchestra occupying a secondary stage in the shape of a Latin cross in the center of the floor.

Like Lyon, the Barcelona audience also reacted with ovations of admiration and warmth to the exhibitions of voice and harmony, talent with a dramaturgical purpose. "Merci, Barcelona," she simply said after captivating the crowd with Reliquia. In this sense, the culmination of the first act was especially significant. Dressed in the white habit of a sorrowful woman, or a queen of melodrama, she silenced the Palau Sant Jordi with the contained emotion of Mio Cristo piange diamanti. The audience's outburst at the end of the song gave goosebumps; it was almost as exciting as cyclist Wout van Aert's victory at the Roubaix velodrome on Sunday.

As in previous concerts of the tour, the Barcelona one followed the division into different acts, each with its own aesthetic and emotional tone, playing with black and white in the costumes and taking advantage of the choreographic versatility of (La)Horde and Charm La’Donna, and the imagination of Dimitris Papaioannou. The liberating power of the techno version of Berghain preceded the hedonistic celebration of the Motomami universe, with Saoko,La fama and La combi Versace, fueled by new string arrangements, more incisive at the end of Saoko. Rosalía is having fun before taking refuge in the flamenco solemnity of De madrugá (almost symphonic) and El redentor, ancient spirituality before entering the fair of vanities in the version of Can’t take my eyes off you, with the artist framed as the Mona Lisa and challenging gazes with the landscape of Montserrat behind her.

Little by little, the thread of a feminism that links a good part of the songs of Lux

is filtering through, where God functions as a metaphor describing everything that relationships with men have not been. In this context, the confessional would be the gossip version and La perla, with Papaioannou's impressive choreography, the definitive song of spite. Although Jeanne is not included in the tour's repertoire, she is a warrior saint, like an armorless Joan of Arc killing the dragon of men who are not up to par, and who descends the staircase of longing and tragedy in the interpretation of La yugular, another of the memorable moments of the night.

"Boti, boti, boti..."

The confessional and the interpretation with Llorenç Barceló of Sauvignon blanc (in which he recommended Catalan wines: "a Penedès, an Empordà, a Priorat) are understood as moments to relax in a spectacle measured down to the last detail. It is the air she needs to attack a frenetic block in the middle of the stage with the orchestra, unleashed in La rumba del perdón and in a CUUUUuuuuuute that she introduced by shouting "boti, boti, boti, son of a bitch who doesn't vote" and dancing under a techno botafumeiro. Other pieces from the Motomami era such as Bizcochito and Despechá supply the party (magnificent, the audience's engagement) before death and the final spring, before the operatic tragedy that unfolds in Focu 'ranni and an impressive Magnolias, an earthly farewell and cosmic resurrection, a culmination after two hours of an unusual adventure: the triumph of an immense talent, the consecration of Rosalía as a total work of art.

[The photographs in this chronicle were provided by the promoter Live Nation. Rosalía does not accredit press photojournalists on this tour.]