Quinoa

An unquestionable
architectural calling also emanates from this work, a happy sacrifice of chaos
and exploration in favour of conciseness and the narrative logic of the various
biographical parts that fill it out. Jerónimo is the liquid that lubricates the
emotional motor of this lively, romantic and reflective music of urban dawns
and dusks, of mists and rain showers. Its poetry is elevated and elevates us,
but it never strikes us as pretentious.

 

The arrangements give
priority to colour over the details, but they also afford brief, spirited
sketches, like those improvised by Gonzalo Fernández de Larrinoa, Rubén
Salvador or Julen Izarra, in a tone brimming with hope.  Their voices submit themselves or are thrown
into confusion in harmony, like on the vinyl discs of the most vulnerable
Mingus, or Charlie Haden of the great formations, with the solid rhythmic push
of Hilario Rodeiro and Javier Mayor, who convey breath and character.

 

Jerónimo Martín claims no
prominence for himself, his piano simply delimits the basic outline, like a voice-over
that broadly describes the scenario or roughly declaims the most intimate
passages in the first person.

 

As the disc progresses, the
certainties end up overcoming the doubts until the completing of a new, scenic,
coherent whole, which feeds on folklore (Tívoli)
and is inspired by classical aesthetics; perhaps it isn’t even jazz at all, at
least, not as an African American would conceive it.  The essence of this music is not its own
swing, not its free interaction. Its ultimate aim is simply to accompany the
listener through a story expressed with an almost symphonic style, which eschews
affectation by consciously imposing meaning over feeling, but without
renouncing the emotions that belong to it: hope (Claridad), self-pity (5
de Mayo), unleashed temper (Obertura) or the joy of knowing that
you are simply alive (Tutto per amore).

 

Quinoa transcends because it impregnates. Like the city smells evoked by Antonio, the
city that beats at every set of traffic lights in some of the farewells in
Cinemascope.