Santana reminisces on an electric night at the Palau Sant Jordi
The Mexican guitarist is taking advantage of the 25th anniversary of 'Supernatural' to also claim his status as a pioneer.
Barcelona[This article is published without any photographs from the concert. The ARA does not agree with the abusive conditions that Santana imposes on photojournalists: the artist only accredits them if they waive, free of charge, all rights to the photographs. Furthermore, he forces the photographers to provide him with copies of the photographs.]
The memory of his fingers guides Carlos Santana around the neck of his electric guitar, an elegant PRS. And the memory of the audience, most of whom have been working for three decades, reacts every time a phrase or rhythm announces a classic. The enthusiasm of the spectators is usually a good indicator of the emotional temperature of a concert. In the case of the performance of the Mexican guitarist's band at the Palau Sant Jordi, in front of 11,800 people (everyone seated), the high points coincided with the versions of Black magic woman (Fleetwood Mac) and Hey how it goes (Tito Puente), pieces that Santana brought to his territory more than fifty years ago, and the interpretation of Thorny Heart, the most emblematic song on the album Supernatural (1999). However, one of the loudest cheers came just before the last song (Smooth) with Cindy Blackman's drum solo (culminating with images of an erupting volcano on the screens). "My partner, lover and wife," Santana recalled. From the discography after Supernatural, only recovered the stimulant Foo foo, from the album Shaman (2002), and I'm retiring, the collaboration with the Frontera Group that was published in 2005.
As usual, and as he did at the Cap Roig Festival in 2016, Saturday's concert at the Palau Sant Jordi began with Blackman and percussionists Paoli Mejías and Karl Perazzo displaying the rhythmic richness of Soul sacrifice, Jingo and Evil ways, the holy trinity of the psychedelic Afro-Latin sound of Santana's first album, released in 1969. The 78-year-old guitarist, wearing a sombrero, chewing gum and wearing a sweatshirt with a John Coltrane image, lived up to the legend: solid, competent musicians with room for virtuosity. For example, in keyboardist David K. Mathews on Evil ways and Everybody's everything, bassist Benny Rietvels to play a solo more typical of the glory days of jazz fusion, and guitarist Tommy Anthony to add an acoustic touch to the Put your lights on and, of course, the vocalists Ray Greene (also a trombonist) and Andy Vargas, one more devoted to soul and the other to the Latin universe, and both masters of ceremonies at the service of the leader.
Carlos Santana offered a good concert of an hour and three-quarters, more applauded by the audience the more Afro-Latin and less in the more rock fragments (like when he did the version of She's not there (from The Zombies). Honoring the spirit of the era of the first Woodstock, he also dedicated a couple of moments to peace, in times of threat of "nuclear war" from "Korea, China, Russia." "I am convinced that together we can change the destiny of this planet," he said, proposing to "pray" and show "peace, compassion and harmony." He said this before a remarkable interpretation of Samba for you which culminated with the image on the screens of a white dove and the phrase "Peace on Earth."
