We find ourselves before an intimate game in which we are lucky enough to participate (…)
Without any premeditated intention, just from the genuine enjoyment of getting together to play… the union of two artists with such musical background, Beatriz Montiel (Trice) and Conrado Isasa (Isasa, A room with a view), is born thanks to listening to each other. They have created this new creative space called Burro, from which to transmit their shared musical feeling.
Now, the respective paths followed in each of their individual projects converge here and, therefore, the preference for acoustic instrumentation has been the natural starting point. From it, the search for certain timbral textures is undertaken, as well as the exploration of the principles and physical limits of the instrument itself. All this, in order to achieve the perfect ambience and atmosphere for each song, thus preserving the ideal conditions from which to dress and express the text musically in the simplest possible way. With a notably more abstract character than in her facet as Trice, in Burro the words of Beatriz are intoned with concision and extreme care, giving the necessary space to the instrumental and preserving, with this, a gratifying sensation of air, light and constant space in the album. Likewise, we also find an Isasa eminently different from his solo albums here, whose guitar relates to and complements Trice’s as an equal, in a harmonic dialogue of two.
The seven pieces included in the album represent a vital chronological interval, beyond preconceived conceptual ideas. In Isasa’s words <<It has been very interesting for me to witness Beatriz’s creative process, as she relies a lot on her intuition and that has encouraged me to try not to be so reflexive. We let ourselves be carried away by the first ideas that came up, allowing the song to gradually make itself, to emerge and take shape without intervening more than necessary>>. Indeed, all this is reflected in the spontaneity conveyed by tracks like ‘No es la luna’ or the instrumental ‘Lechuza’, in which the concepts of play and innocence appear. We find ourselves before an intimate game in which we are lucky enough to participate and, as their good friend Sara López recently described, pressing play is like moving to a warm and cosy living room, where we feel surrounded by instruments that play and talk to each other. Surely the song that best represents this game, as well as Trice’s renewed poetics, is the song that closes the album, entitled ‘No sé’. A beautiful sound poem standing for the right to doubt and to change one’s mind, as a vindication of the natural state of the human being, who is born and dies in the most brutal sincerity.
