As long as I can remember, there were no balls or toys in my house… there were guitars.
My first memory with this instrument was the sound of my father, Tony Rey, filling the room with rhythms that still accompany me today. He is a guitarist, and he was my first example, my guide, and my teacher. I learned to love the guitar from the time I could remember, watching him play with the dedication that only a flamenco heart can provide.
My father had everything to do with who I am.
With him, I learned to read sheet music, to understand every palo of flamenco, every technique, every gesture that makes the strings speak. He taught me the foundations with patience, rigor, and much love. I owe him the foundation of everything that resonates in my guitar today. From the softest touches to the deepest, they all have something of their own.
And then there’s Mexico… what wonderful memories I have of that land.
I was a child, but I already felt the excitement of playing my guitar in the tablaos. I grew up there, learning from older guitarists, from dancers, from singers… It was like going to the university of flamenco. Every night on stage was a living lesson. The respect, the rhythm, the beat… everything was experienced with an intensity that shaped my way of understanding this art.
And amidst all of that, there was my sister, Mara Rey.
Our mother, who was a great dancer, passed away when we were very young. And Mara, from then on, took on that role without asking, with immense love and a strength that only gypsies with duende possess. Her company has been vital, and so has her art. She has always been by my side, through thick and thin.
That’s why there’s a very special song on my album, Gitana Bailaora, featuring Israel Fernández. It’s a tribute to my mother, to her art, to her absence, and to her light.
That was my cradle: of strings, tablaos, family, and a flamenco soul.
– Antonio Rey