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RE: David Serva Jones
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granjuanillo
Posts: 32
Joined: Nov. 3 2009
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 RE: David Serva Jones (in reply to Mark2)
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David Jones (David Serva) has, since the 1960s, been a legend among American flamenco guitarists and has earned great respect among Spanish flamencos. However, as the years have passed and flamenco circles have expanded, there are probably many aficionados who have little or no knowledge of him as a guitarist and a figure. With his passing, I would like to take the opportunity to convey why his legacy is so important.
David started studying with Mariano de Córdoba in the San Francisco Bay Area and began the Los Flamencos de la Bodega show in San Francisco’s Old Spaghetti Factory (a former pasta factory in North Beach and a center of Beat culture – it later sold its name to the chain restaurants). He traveled to Spain several times and, in Morón de la Frontera, became a disciple of the legendary Diego del Gastor. David devoured material from every possible source, but found a particular affinity for the Morón toque, which became the basis of his unique style of playing.
David moved to Spain permanently in 1972 and launched a career playing in several tablaos, including Madrid’s Corral de la Morería, where he collaborated with Felipe Maya (father of Gerónimo Maya). This work was interspersed with festivals, theatrical tours, etc. Like many flamenco artists from this period, he had a regional foundation that was further developed in the tablaos.
David developed a propio sello – a unique approach to guitar. He lived through the Paco revolution, but never developed the hyper technique that characterized modern flamenco guitar. That is not to say he lacked technique – his playing was clean, funky, experimental, and quirky. Technique was in service of the music. His approach was simultaneously analytical and creative – he played guitar all day every day and was always creating. He experimented with new harmonies that were unusual, but always very flamenco. His compás was impeccable and full of twists and turns. He once said that the compás is in the air – you just have to pick where to place the notes. Anyone who has played his material knows how tricky his placements were!
I have recently been listening to several concerts that David recorded over the past decades – I’ve heard these recordings thousands of times and they never lose their magic. I always marvel at the depth of composition, the flamenquísmo delivery, and masterful execution. He released a CD in the 1990s – Son Gitano en America – this is an excellent example of his playing – a flawless live performance – no edits to fix mistakes.
David excelled as an accompanist – he had an encyclopedic knowledge of cante and knew just how to complement a singer. He has recorded with Manuel Agujetas and El Falo, among others. Once, after David played for a Cádiz singer for the first time in a fiesta, a knowledgeable aficionado remarked that he was the best accompanist he had ever heard.
David immersed himself in Gitano-Andaluz culture and spoke Spanish – with an Andluz accent – so well that when Gerónimo Maya heard him speak English, he wondered where David had learned it – he had no idea he was not Spanish. Aside from being a legend among American flamencos, David earned the respect of his Spanish and Gitano colleagues, as evidenced by the outpouring of respect and condolences from everywhere.
I often think back on my first guitar lesson with David in 1972; it took place in La Bodega, around the corner from the Spaghetti Factory. I cut school and traveled up from the peninsula. He asked me to play something - I played a few soleá falsetas – his response was: “what you’re playing is fine, but if you want to work with other people, you need to learn compás. But if you don’t want to and anyone gives you any ****, just say ‘**** you – I just want to play guitar’.” He then went on to record several examples of palos with compás. While the material was simple, he made it all sound deep and flamenco. The recording still sounds as fresh and compelling as I remember it from a half century ago.
A few years later I went to Spain and started playing for classes in the Amor de Dios studios. I ran into David in the bar – he bought me a beer and we sat in silence. I asked him how long he planned to stay “I don’t know – depends.” A few minutes later: “and you?” - I’d forgotten what he was referring to! Conversation with him was variable – sometime there were long silences, but other times he would dazzle with stories, jokes, cante, and compás rapped on the bar. Over the years, I spent many nights with him in Candelas, then in various after-hours bars. I couldn’t keep up with him, but I tried. David was known for his sardonic humor – it sometimes had a bite to it; a number of us have felt its sting – this was part of who he was.
I thank David for a half century of music, artistry, mentorship, and friendship. He has left an enormous legacy both in the US and in Spain. He is very much loved and missed.
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Date Feb. 9 2023 2:22:12
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Ricardo
Posts: 14801
Joined: Dec. 14 2004
From: Washington DC
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RE: David Serva Jones (in reply to devilhand)
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quote:
ORIGINAL: devilhand
quote:
He experimented with new harmonies that were unusual, but always very flamenco.
Theres a flamenco key named after him. Por David Serva. It's D# phrygian. That was the only thing I knew about him. First I thought he was spanish.
That was a term I made up to illustrate the fact there is no associated palo with the key in the same way there are for the other traditional keys. We (or I anyway) did not know who invented the use of the key first, and after some investigation it turned out to be David, and the origin piece is very much like a Rondeña, but without the altered tuning. Likewise, Alberto Velez developed C# Phrygian tonality in the form of a pseudo Granaina, and was picked up by Manolo Sanlucar and later many players considered “modern” applied the new tonalities to any palo they wanted. The term “por” means “using, or by way of”, so Paco’s piece “Antonia” is a Soleá “por levante”, meaning, Solea compas in the key of F# phrygian. So I was just using the term to associate the originators of the tonal concept since the palos they actually were utilizing already have traditional keys and names. The most common description in Flamenco circles of the tonality David used is “en Mi bemol”, and you should adapt that as well, keeping in mind you are aware it is properly “re sostenido de David Serva”.
_____________________________
CD's and transcriptions available here:
www.ricardomarlow.com
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Date Feb. 9 2023 16:59:55
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estebanana
Posts: 9351
Joined: Oct. 16 2009
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RE: David Serva Jones (in reply to davewphx)
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Berkeleyside paper Dec. 2022
Remembering flamenco guitarist David Serva Jones, ‘America’s greatest least known musician’
Known for his acerbic wit and old-school manners, Jones’ masterful style earned him a five-decade career in Spain unmatched by any other American. He was also a fierce ambassador for pueblo-style flamenco in the Bay Area.
By Family and friends of David Serva Jones
Dec. 23, 2022, 6:28 a.m.
David Serva Jones. Courtesy: Jones family
Flamenco guitarist David Serva Jones (1941-2022), an extraordinary musician and composer, a legend among American aficionados and highly respected among Spanish flamencos, died in the company of family at his sister’s home in Berkeley on Oct. 27, 2022.
“He was America’s greatest least known musician,” opined Paul Shalmy, a lifelong friend and former New York Herald Tribune journalist. He “focused his life, intelligence, energy and talent on a singular aim: the mastery of a musical form and tradition — flamenco — that in many ways, he loved more than himself.”
Born in Berkeley, to University of California professor Victor Jones and his wife, Annie Mae, who moved “north” from Birmingham, Alabama, in pursuit of a better future, Serva demonstrated a precocious musical talent on piano and other instruments, and first picked up the guitar at age 15, while a student at Berkeley High, learning from recordings and taking lessons in San Francisco’s Mission District. His musical career got underway while still in his teens, in a cave-like side room at the Spaghetti Factory in San Francisco’s North Beach (the center of Beat culture), as guitarist with Los Flamencos de la Bodega, the house troupe for impresario Richard Whalen’s long-running flamenco show, and later in New York City, notably in the West Village landmark Café Feenjon.
Traveling to Spain first in 1958 and again in 1962, thirsting for a deeper knowledge of traditional flamenco, he landed in the Andalusian pueblo of Morón de la Frontera where he first discovered a strong affinity for and became the disciple of legendary guitarist Diego del Gastor (1908-73). Diego’s particular Morón toque (playing style), became much the basis of David’s own. Throughout the 1960s, Serva returned to Spain numerous times, immersing himself further in Gitano (Spanish Roma) Andalusian culture and accompanying some of Spain’s most storied singers: Juan Talega, Miguel Funi, Manolito el de Maria, Luis Torres Joselero and La Fernanda de Utrera. Later, after the finish of a long-running gig as on-stage guitarist in the Broadway musical Man of La Mancha (greatly influencing composer Mitch Leigh), Serva moved to Spain permanently in 1971. Like many flamenco artists seeking their fortune in 1970s Madrid, his regional foundation developed further in some of Madrid’s most venerable flamenco tablaos (nightclubs), such as Torres Bermejas or El Corral de la Moreria. Serva understood that while Morón in the 1960s was an oasis of this aural and sung heritage that went back generations, a traditional flamenco now lost in the technical and often cluttered virtuosity of contemporary guitarists, to maintain a career in flamenco he would need to move beyond so localized and puristic a style.
Serva eschewed fancy modern pyrotechnics and played with an emotional directness and simplicity rooted in his encyclopedic knowledge of cante (flamenco song) and mastery of the art’s complex rhythms. Though he devoured material from every possible source, particularly blues, jazz (riffing on the likes of Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, or Keith Jarrett), even Mexican rancheras, and experimented with unusual harmonies — the result was always very flamenco. His rhythm was perfect yet full of twists and turns. His music always had something to say. It left room to pause. It left room for silence. It gave voice to his unswerving engagement in this unique musical tradition and the marginalized world that nurtured it.
David Serva Jones. Credit: Annie Frantzeskos
In the after-hours bars that were so much a part of the flamenco lifestyle, David walked the walk and talked the talk. He was known for his acerbic wit, but also for his impeccable, old-school manners, with a cultural intelligence and adaptability that allowed him to fit in as a foreigner in Spain generally, in Andalusia particularly, and among Gitanos especially. He was the only American to have carved a successful five-decade professional career as a flamenco guitarist in Spain in a time when Gitano (and non-Gitano) artists were often hostile and territorial about their musical heritage. Perhaps it was the depth of that immersion that attracted singers like flamenco’s fierce exponent Manuel Agujetas to knock at Serva’s door in Madrid early one morning in the 1970s, to summon him to a studio session as his accompanist, later playing on several of the cantaor’s acclaimed recordings (as well as state TV appearances). In 1990, he played in Seville’s Bienal de Flamenco both with Gitano guitarist Pedro Bacán’s “Nuestra Historia al Sur” and on the night dedicated to the Gitanos of Morón and Utrera, rather than the night dedicated to foreign artists.
Serva, who borrowed his stage name from the Caló (Spanish Roma dialect) word for “Seville,” spoke Spanish with an Andalusian accent so “down-home” that many flamencos had no idea he was not a Spaniard. In later years, younger Gitanos would address him as tío (uncle), a term reserved for elders of respect. While his passion lay with accompaniment, and he excelled at it — knowing just how to complement a singer or dancer — he did release a solo CD, Son Gitano en America, in 1995 — a near flawless recording of a live performance in Toronto’s St. Andrew’s Church, known for its acoustics.
His work, interspersed with festivals, tours, and artist-in-residence sojourns, took him from Madrid to Tel-Aviv, Mumbai, Tokyo and beyond but also, time and again, back to San Francisco. Highly influential in the Bay Area’s thriving flamenco scene, arguably the largest and most durable flamenco performance community outside Spain, he was a portal to, and ambassador for, traditional pueblo-style flamenco. As local flamenco guitarist Kenny Parker said, “David was one of the absolute pioneers, and I respect him because he did this over 50 years ago when it wasn’t easy, under Franco, when the bathrooms in Spain were dirty, and it wasn’t so attractive to tourists. He was the one who made the most inroads there and has influenced a whole bunch of people. … It’s a tremendous accomplishment.” Another student and friend commented, “He opened a crack in the door that so many of us were later able to step through, in ways that were utterly transformative … He also gave us a tantalizing and haunting glimpse of what it means to be free.”
As both aficionado and maestro, Serva earned the esteem and affection of his colleagues, as evidenced by the outpouring of appreciation and condolences from Spain and beyond. Charming, caring and generous to a fault with his cultural know-how, he nevertheless drove a hard bargain. His natural air of authority could be intimidating and his sardonic humor unwittingly cruel. As his lifelong friends, Berkeley-based screenwriters Janet and David Peoples said, “‘Jonesy’ was the king of cool, as well as master of the pithy comeback.”
Over the years, his single-minded pursuit of flamenco and its attendant lifestyle also took a toll on his family life, chronicled in the award-winning film Gypsy Davy, written and directed by his daughter, that premiered at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival.
David is survived by his sister Patricia Ungern nee Jones; his wife, Claire Chinoy (AKA Clara Mora); his children Martin David Jones (son of Mallory Pred), Rachel Leah Jones (daughter of Judith Jones nee Greenberg), Pablo Martin Jones Johnston (son of Cynthia Johnston), and Nandi Elaya Chinoy Jones (daughter of Claire Chinoy); and his grandchildren Michelle Isadora Margo Bellaiche and Martina Jones Morgade.
He left an indelible musical mark both in the U.S. and in Spain, was much loved, and will be sorely missed.
_____________________________
https://www.stephenfaulkguitars.com
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Date Feb. 22 2023 5:47:23
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