Arnau Tordera: "I admire the connection between wine and the land, which music doesn't have as palpably."

Arnau Tordera (Tona, 1986) says that becoming a musician wasn't the result of a decision made at a specific moment, but rather a consequence of music gradually taking up more and more time in his life and of a profession that, he asserts, never ends. The leader of the band Obeses, he is also the creator of the opera The Lost Cat and of Sardana SuperstarHe, who has described himself as a "unique artistic piece" irreplaceable by the country, sees in wine a point of connection with pleasure, tradition and the land.

Is wine part of your daily life?

— I'm an occasional wine drinker, enjoying it with special meals and when I eat out. I'm not an expert; I'm someone who observes this world from a distance and experiences it more closely, but as someone who enjoys a bit of hedonism, I like to savor it. Although my knowledge is limited, I've gradually acquired some information over the years. Lately, since I live in Sant Esteve Sesrovires, a place where wine is very prevalent and there are many vineyards, I've become more involved, especially with the world of natural wines. I've met producers who practice this philosophy, and I'm very interested.

What interested you?

— Above all, I'm drawn to the philosophy behind it, the will, and the ancestral component. I've been captivated by the idea of rediscovering a heritage and seeking a purer, less artificial nature. I find this whole process philosophically appealing, and I see parallels with music, which is my field.

This philosophy resonates in your musical project.

— Wine is closely linked to music. The cultivation of the land, heritage, native grape varieties with unique characteristics... All of this has many parallels with artistic creation and collective consciousness.

In an interview in this house You said you'd like Catalonia to be able to create its own musical styles. Do you feel the same way about gastronomy and wine?

— If there's one area I look at with envy as a musician, it's this: Catalonia is a benchmark in both gastronomy and winemaking. Perhaps at some point it has tried to copy, but Catalonia has produced products with their own character and personality. The land plays a big role: the wine made here can only be made here, due to the climate and soil conditions. In music, this is more difficult because it's a language less literally rooted in a territory. But I admire that connection to the land, which music doesn't have as palpably.

So, is rootedness just a geographical issue or also a matter of ways of working?

— It's a combination of factors. The fact that the grapes are grown here, in this land and landscape, and that this knowledge is passed down from generation to generation, makes the connection twofold: literal and symbolic.

The debate between experimentation and tradition is constant. Ferran Adrià He recently said that it's not his fault there are fewer and fewer restaurants serving traditional Catalan cuisine. In music, do you think this tension leads to a loss of "authenticity"?

— It's the balance of history: preserving tradition while simultaneously innovating. Either option alone is a mistake. I've always advocated for finding a balance, even though it's impossible, because they are two forces in constant conflict. Progress arises from this tension, from the dialogue between innovation and heritage. This is true in music, in gastronomy, and in every human expression.

Has this search for balance placed you in an alternative position to the more hegemonic music?

— In a way, yes. The mass audience is subject to current trends and media channels. If you don't conform to these fads, you're left out. But it's also an interesting possibility. I'm outside this trend, but someone could say that, in reality, I'm part of it. It's an unavoidable contradiction. The important thing is to be clear about your position and not let the current sweep you away.

So, has anyone ever told you that you're part of the hegemony?

— Not directly, but someone might think so. There are people much further removed from it than I am. I'm unsettled by the idea of being absorbed by a system that levels all proposals, but at the same time, I live within it. I'm tempted to use formulas that guarantee success, even at the expense of originality. I try to find a balance, knowing it's impossible.

There's also the debate about how festivals operate. At Tribulossi, where you performed, there was locally sourced wine and craft beer. Do you think this relationship between music and local products should be encouraged?

— Yes, although festivals are a complex topic and one I'm somewhat skeptical about. If we accept that they're part of the cultural landscape, the awareness projected through music should also be applied to all aspects of the festival. Supporting local talent rather than large multinational corporations lends coherence to the message. Mega-festivals sponsored by giant brands end up homogenizing the sector. That's why festivals with a different approach, I'd say, have almost an obligation to operate in that way.

In one of his songs, which draws from a poem by Verdaguer, wine appears almost as a sin.

— It's an early poem that plays on his second surname, Santaló. For me, the relationship with wine is celebratory: I enjoy it with meaningful meals and discovering the story behind each glass. Now that I live in a wine region, I've attended tastings and learned about fascinating projects. You become aware of what a sip of wine means, of the philosophy of its creators. For me, it's much more linked to enjoyment and happiness than to any idea of sin.

Any preference?

— I don't really like sweet wines. I prefer dry ones, with a touch of roughness, that convey the earth, that fill your mouth.

And what about between whites and blacks?

— For many years I only drank red wine, but lately I've also discovered sparkling whites and rosés. I enjoy variety, and I can even drink white wine with meat if the person recommending it gives me a good reason. When I perceive in the taste what the winemaker has described, it's a small satisfaction.

Is it a bit like with music, that if it's explained to you well, you listen to it in a different way?

— Instrumental music, lacking lyrics, needs someone to open windows for you to enter. With wine, since I'm not an expert, I also like someone to guide me, like a musicologist or, in this case, a wine expert. sommelyesterday.

Any anecdotes?

— One day, about ten years ago, some friends came over for dinner, and while looking for wine to make a sauce, I grabbed a bottle from around the house. A few days later, we discovered it was a bottle of wine my father had made with his conscripts during his military service, as a souvenir. Without realizing it, I destroyed a memory that was over forty years old.

And how did the sauce turn out?

— Inconsequential.