Sílvia Pérez Cruz and Salvador Sobral: "I would never dare suggest making a record together."

The commission for all of them came from the Goya Awards' Recordarte , and it was to compose a song with time as its motif. "That was the starting point," Sílvia recalls, adding, "A deadline, which is very important." In return, they offered their voices, guitar, cello, and some bass with keyboards. The musical version of "Ben poco cosa tens" by Miquel Martí i Pol ended up guiding the project. "It helped with the timbre, to understand what the group was." Composed for Gerard Oms' film Molt lluny , Sílvia Pérez composed the song while talking with Sobral about the project, which was still in its infancy. "So I composed it musically thinking that he could play the vocals on top, and I thought about Llach's Abril 74 , which we had sung together before." With this in mind, she asked guitarist Darío Barroso and cellist Marta Roma to play it. "I didn't tell them anything about the project, but that way I could get a feel for how it sounded, because imagining Salvador's voice was easy."

Subsequent rehearsals revealed that another musician was missing, and so Sebastián Gris's guitar was added to complete the project, recorded at Sol de Sants Studio in Barcelona with production by Juan R. Berbín, another important element of the project. "Apart from having good taste and a lot of human touch, he brought a bit of Latin flair to the album." He also added the textures that open the album, accompanying a choral song that was already featured on Sílvia Pérez's last solo album, where Salvador was part of the Sol choir that accompanied her.

“Starting the album with a choir gives you something you can't find in any instrument,” emphasizes the Portuguese singer, who defines choral singing as “an angelic voice.” His partner speaks of musical dissolution—“you no longer know who you are, you're part of something bigger”—and points to the need for this type of sensation as a response to modern individualism. “It's an act of total love, because the voice is the most exposed part of you. You can sing in a more subdued way, but if you want, you can open up, and this act of trust in the collective is a great hope that everything can be a little better.”

There's also love in their demonstrations in support of Palestine, transformed into Tempus fugit (plor per Palestina) by pianist Marco Mezquida. "We recorded the vocals with the piano's microphones, from inside, all at once," recalls Sílvia Pérez, who had the image of "a piano among the ruins, and the small poetry of survival, because when they take everything from you, you're left with this small dignity." The idea of ​​composing a piece about the Palestinian conflict is, more than a political statement, "something human; we talk about lives," warns Sobral, who, like Pérez Cruz, brings this proclamation to her own performances. "For me, it's important because Portugal still doesn't recognize the Palestinian state, and I feel the need to insist that that happens."

All these pieces came together like a puzzle on the stage of the Palau de la Música, where Sílvia Pérez arrived "very fragile" after having suffered pneumonia with her daughter while in Japan, during the start of the tour. "On the other hand, I'm at a point where I have less ambition," she admits, "I thought about it on stage; I felt happy to be there." The singer-songwriter highlights the learning curve that comes with sharing the spotlight on stage: "In concerts, each person guides the energy they create, but here the other person offers you a different kind of energy."

Sobral sees it that way, too, worried about how his need to get up, move around, and joke around would affect the show. “But Sílvia told me I should behave like always. You were the one who pushed me to dance and do these silly things,” she says, pointing to her partner. “It's important to show the unity. I want Salvador to be in his moment, doing what makes him happy, just as I want to be in mine.”

A copy of sincerity is how they've united two characters who recognize themselves as very different on stage. "I loved seeing how Sílvia works," admits Salvador, who emphasizes her attention to every detail: "The stage, the lights, the stage direction—she has a clear artistic concept, while I focus solely on the music." For now, he's recruited Sílvia's lighting manager for his upcoming solo tour, and there could be more changes. "Sound checks are very anarchic in my band; we play other things, whereas Sílvia has a plan, and the truth is, the sound is better because there's more discipline."

“I like Salvador's decision-making when he sings,” Pérez Cruz shares. “Our voices work very well together, but the way you think about how you sing is different. He's more about choosing something and going with it,” she notes, making a straight arm gesture. “On the other hand, I'm always looking for something new. Salvador is more faithful to the melody, and I like all his energy. He celebrates the beauty of the world and is lucid in conflicts.” She, on the other hand, acknowledges that she can get lost “in empathy,” while Salvador “resolves things that for me can be emotionally complex.”

Will there be a sequel, a second volume? “I'd like to in a few years,” Sobral admits. “How do you imagine it?” Sílvia asks, and the Eurovision winner talks about composing this time, “but now it's time for you to make your album and me to make mine.”