The Mudcatter starting this thread is no expert. By the agency of some power greater than my own, destiny had me present for two -- count 'em, two -- concert performances by Sabicas. This would be in the 1980's, I believe, when this guitarist was up in years and had long since left the singers and dancers in order to perform in public by himself.

He was about as far away from Manitas de Plata, I have to say, as ... this is scary. I'm about to exaggerate. But seriously: though those two guitarists drew on a musical tradition centuries old that was big enough and fertile enough to nourish them both, they could hardly have been more different. No, I never heard Manitas live, only through the medium of recordings.

Suffolk University, in the heart of Boston, had a concert hall, and the first Sabicas recital I heard was there, in the dead of a New England winter. The place was sold out, but then it wasn't the world's biggest hall. Anyway it got hot as heck in there, all stuffy, and the audience did NOT fall asleep. Far from it. We sat on the edge of our seats, listening for every nuance, every turn of phrase, when we weren't applauding like crazy. And when it was over, and Sabicas really had had enough and wanted to leave now, thank you, -- nobody wanted to go outside.

María Benítez, raised in New Mexico and educated in Spain, was instrumental in bringing Sabicas to New Mexico's state capitol, Santa Fé, for a solo recital. That was the second time I heard him. The story was much the same. Nobody fell asleep. Nobody wanted to leave. Nobody wanted him to stop playing.

Manitas de Plata aside, now: as a non-guitarist, to whom or what may I compare Sabicas' art? I would have to say that hearing Sabicas play flamenco was like hearing Artur Rubinstein play Chopin, and yes, by the grace of the divine, I had that latter experience once.

People used to look askance, I am told, at pianist Rubinstein because his Chopin was so even-tempered and well-balanced, without expressive excess: more classical than romantic. And Rubinstein refused to apologize for that; it was his way with Chopin, regardless of fad or fashion. Sabicas was similarly stable. People looked askance at Sabicas for playing his compositions much the same way every time, note for note, and even for playing too many notes and being too ornate, too formal. But that was his way. If you saw Sabicas onstage you saw a soloist without artifice or pretense. He was not a flashy player. He didn't have to be. He played with the kind of authority that is just as commanding at a soft volume or a slow speed as it is loud and/or fast. And he played with a musicality that any musician, even a non-guitarist like me, could sit up and take notice of. One US critic wrote that he made the guitar sound like an organ! That remark emphasized the wonderful resonance as well as volume. I haven't spoken of Sabicas' impeccable sense of rhythm.

My post is long enough. I hope others will contribute their opinions and memories.

His obituary was in the New York Times; he spent the last decades of his life based in New York City, and the younger guitarist, Paco de Lucia, raised the money to have Sabicas' body flown home to Spain.