Pablo Valero picks up his guitar and walks calmly towards the center of the stage. He carries a portable recorder that he places on a chair near a microphone stand lined with flowers. When the device is activated, Rita Guerrero’s voice escapes from her tiny horn, which she plays “After Dead”, accompanied by a guitar. An amplified whisper attended by thousands while Poncho Figueroa, Alejandro Otaola, Juan Sebastian Lach, Jacobo Lieberman, Aldo Max, Patricio Iglesias, Leonel Pérez and Belén Ruiz follow Valero’s steps towards the dressing rooms. No one is left on the scene, except that voice who knows where, thanks to electricity, is present revealing a desire: “I would ask life that lives with death to accompany my poem.”
Just turn around to discover that, among the seats that fill the Metropolitan Theater, several cry. How not to cimbra. Santa Sabina celebrates 30 years of history, according to the band itself, “saying goodbye to a cycle” from this side of life. There is sadness in the environment, because the songbook of the group was characterized by resorting to dark cloths, mourning and melancholy; however, from the very beginning of the concert it was possible to discover that profile that the darksAztecs at the time so fascinated, never really defined the work of “Mirrota”. True: on some occasions minor tones and oppressive atmospheres predominated, but that discourse used to use the luminosity in the same way and often found hope in the future, just as it happened when the evening was inaugurated with “At the edge of the sun ”, Full of references to the star king, to the protective heat.
The union of the Choir Rita Guerrero and the Choir Délicieux added more than thirty throats that harmonized the fog that María Sabina’s mouth gave off between mountains. Herbs and yedras vaporizing the atmosphere to the sound of “Smoke song”. Love and aroma in thread and vilo until the arrival of Iraida Noriega, who made public the illusion that everyone kept behind the ribs, thinking of Rita: “I wish it was your voice”. From there, the microphone was changing hands, passed by Carmina Escobar, Ximena Mor, Salvador Moreno, Dafne and Sandra (Descartes a Kant), Renee Mooi, Alfonso André and Jessy Bulbo. In that role, he surprised the similarity of Carmina’s vocal style with that of Guerrero (especially in the crazy soliloquy of “Wet Lips”); by his side, Ximena Mor squeezed several hearts with a very heartfelt version of “Lament”.