Imagine Spain. Existing high above the clouds, hear the echoes of
phantasmal peaked rock chant in unison their canticles born beneath the crusts of earth: The Pyrenees bear the incisions of their birth; yet, their form is a continuous deliverance about magnificence and beauty. Where draping mountain slopes meet ocean, song, once again, is born. Nothing less than music captures the Mediterranean, a marriage of land and sea.
Brazen by wild rosemary and maritime salt, the figure of Tomás Lozano
emerges as a true Iberian son. Meet him, the progeny of this marriage, and
you encounter Catalunya and Andalucía, the Romanesque and Gaudí,
Ballads and Flamenco, Moorish moaxajas and Sephardic lullabies.
His story begins shepherding. Soon, songs of innocence develop into druid
dances under the fire-spewing correfocs of Granollers. Drummers and
grallers en masse shield the night. When incoming Spring finds the grasses
beyond Fisterra, there, a missionary dove leaves a timeworn bell tower to
brave the seas. A young Lozano bears witness. Guitar in hand and a pack
on his back, he journeys to the buffalo, singing.
Where music takes him is beyond a New World. The discovery is about self. Peninsular and more: Lozano hears a primordial sound. Voice, guitar and vielle serve as conduits. Lozano vibrates cords and spirit takes form just as it turns again ethereal. His own spirit melts into Spirit. The experience blends exquisite simplicity with hypnotic beauty. Conceive Tomás Lozano.
