THe Arr or

D. E. POHREN,

born and raised in) Minneapolis,

Minnesota, was leading the rou-
tine existence of | Westminster
College-University of Minnesota-
Ul. oS. Army when he became
captivated, some ten vears ago,
by the Latin way of life and,
more particularly, the art of Fla-
menco. The G. [ Bill) was his
stepping stone to Mexico City
College (BA) and the Universities
of Mexico and Madrid, and am-
ple time for the flamenco guitar.
After vears of lessons and prac-
tice he spent a period as a pro-
fessional flamenco guitarist (and
instructor), performing with va-
rious groups and as a soloist in
Spain, Mexico, and the United
States. Atoone time (1958) he
opened and ran a flamenco Cafe
Cantante in) the San Francisco
area, the first of its kind in the
United States,
Feeling the need to inform the
English-speaking world of the
true flamenco, he has cased up
on othe puitar at present and is
devoting his practice time to in-
vestigating, writing about, and
enjoving his adopted art. This
book is the first of several works
he plans on the subject, the sec-
ondoof which is well under way.
An intermittent dweller. in
Spain since 1953, he and his
Spanish wife and family present-
Iwooreside in) Sevilla, the non-
commercial capital of flamenco.
 D. E. POHREN

The Art of

F lamenco

EDITORIAL JEREZ INDUSTRIAL

CARDENAL HERRERO, 7:
JEREZ DE LA FRONTERA
SPAIN
 Copyright © 1962 by Donn E. Pohren
All rights reserved undev universal copyright
Printed in Spain
Reservado los derechos de autor.
N.° Reg. MA. 4.391.—62.
Depédsito Legal. CA. 301.—62.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS :

PHOTOGRAPHS :

Jacket photo, and hands of Luisa Maravilla — Arremberg, Malaga

Marfa Albaicin and the '’Poet of the Hands’’ — M. del Rey, Madrid
Luisa Maravilla in La Bodega — Reisinger, San Francisco
The remainder — Pohren (the author)

JACKET LETTERING — José Dorado, Sevilla

GENEALOGY LETTERING — Ignacio Rojas, Sevilla

CENTRAL DISTRIBUTION AND MAIL ORDER:

Lépez Romero, Victor Pradera 46, Madrid, Spain
 CONTENTS

Forward . 9

PART I: THE PHILOSOPHY OF FLAMENCO . II

Introduction . 13
Donkey Back . 15
juerga. . . 26
Flamenco and the Bullfight 30
Gypsies . 33
Progress . 36

PART II: THE ART OF FLAMENCO . 37

Origin and Background . 39
What is Flamenco? . 42
The Song . 48
The Dance . 56
The Guitar . 66
The Jaleo . 76
Reciting. .. . 997
Flamenco and the Non- Spaniard . 78
The Cante and the Non-Spaniard . 79
The. Batle and the Non-Spaniard . 81
The Toque and the Non-Spaniard . 83

Hard Times and Renewed Hope. ) 87

PART III: ENCYCLOPEDIA OF FLAMENCO . 95

Discussion of the Verses of the Cante . 97
Genealogy of Cante Flamenco . 99
Encyclopedia index . IoI
Encyclopedia proper. 103
PART IV: APPENDICES. 153
1.—Breakdown of the Cante, Basle, and Toque 155
2.—Outstanding Flamenco Artists . 159
Singers . 159
Dancers. 161
Guitarists .

3.—Flamenco Records of Special Interest . - 166

4.—Commercial Flamenco Establishments 173
Within Spain . 174
Outside of Spain 179
5.—Private Juergas . 181
6.—Flamenco Contests 185
Concurso Nacional de Cante Jondo . 185
La Llave de Oro del Cante . Lo. 188
I Concurso Internacional de Arte Flamenco Igo
7.—Learning Flamenco . 197
8.—Buying a Guitar . 199
Glossary . 205
Photographs follow pages 8, 32, 64, 88, and 152.
To the true flamencos,
a vare breed in danger of extinction
 “guedsep apuanp
SIQ pue ‘ains sJoul pue JxAaO7;s GeMIOIEG ODIOA sTq SVdtAGID Azs0I7 9G} SULTEM JUIM SY
Aogvpsy woman teaches her child the pitos (finger-snapping). The idea seems to have gotten
through, but coordination is lacking.
 FORWARD

I have writen this book, without literary illusions, in an attempt to

cast a little light on the little-understood (and, more frequently, badly
misunderstood) art of flamenco.
To date flamenco has been the only internationally acclaimed art
without so much as a basic English-language guide for tts many enthu-
siasts. Little more ts avatlable in Spanish. This dearth of information
has led to the general acceptance, both in and out of Spain, of a cheap
commercial brand of flamenco only remotely similar to the authentic
article. I have hopes that FLAMENCO will help correct this situation.
FLAMENCO arranged itself into four sections. The first, entitled
’’The Philosophy of Flamenco’’, consists of experiences and brief essays
which are intended to help the reader to some sort of understanding of
the creators and perpetuators of flamenco — the flamencos themselves.
The next three sections get into the meat of the subject, and cover
all but the most advanced or specialized facets of flamenco, on which
I intend to elaborate in future works.
Parts of the second section of FLAMENCO will seem painfully
basic to the initiated aficionado, particularly portions of the section
entitled ’’What is flamenco?’’ Bear in mind that the book is designed
for readers ranging from the neophyte, who still vaguely knows flamen-
co as *’flamingo’’, to the most advanced aficionado.
Throughout this book the reader will find constant reference to two
basic poles of flamenco, the classical-traditional and the popular-com-
mercial. For clarity’s sake I shail briefly denote here the wide difference
between these styles.
Do not infer from the name classical-traditional a static, unchang-
ing flamenco. On the contrary, it is everchanging. As in jazz, a top
flamenco artist will never render an identical interpretation twice. The
main difference between these opposite poles lies in the types of in-
novations and creations that make them up; those of the classical-tra-
ditional school always fall within certain well-defined bounds of good
flamenco; those of the popular-commercial school are nearly always

9
catchy and worthless, eagerly accepted by the popular public, and then
quickly forgotten. In other words, the classical-traditional flamenco has
lasting value, the popular-commercial flamenco little to no value.
Flamenco is often compared with jazz. This 1s logical and reasona-
ble. We can go one step further and speculate on the types of flamenco
that would closely approximate various trends in jazz. The primitive,
traditional flamenco, for instance, could be matched with the Kid Ory-
Louis Armstrong-Billie Holliday type of jazz; the complicated, less emo-
tional concert flamenco (still in traditional taste) with the Brubeck-
Modern Jazz Quartet progressive offerings; and the many commercial
impurities of flamenco with types of jazz ranging from Be-Bop through
big bands to Rock and Roll and tts offshoots.
The views of many authors have been taken into consideration
(although not necessarily accepted) in arriving at various theories and
historical conclusions in this book, some of whom are: José Carlos de
Luna, Rafael la Fuente, Anselmo Gonzdlez Climent, Domingo Manfre-
di, Garcia Matos, Nunez de Prado, Juan de la Plata, Medina Azara,
Andrade de Silva, Fernando el de Triana, and Caballero Bonald.
I express my gratitude to my wife, and to good friends John and
Ann Leibold, who have given me valuable aid in the preparation of
this book.
Sevilla, July 1962.
 PART I

THE PHILOSOPHY OF FLAMENCO

 INTRODUCTION

Flamenco is not just a music of southern Spain, as is generally be-

lieved. More than that, it is a way of life that influences the daily ac-
tivities of the southern Spaniard. One does not have to be a performer
of flamenco to be a flamenco: a flamenco is anyone who ts emotionally
and actively involved in this unique philosophy. For this reason, no
book 1s complete in dealing with the art of flamenco alone, for the art
of flamenco is merely the outward expression of the flamenco way of
life. The reader must also be made to understand something of its crea-
tors and perpetuators, and their philosophies, attitudes, customs, be-
hefs, likes and dislikes. It is necessary to understand not only what
flamenco ts, but why tt is what it is.
With this objective in mind, I present the following experiences
and essays as an introduction to a study of this fascinating but little
understood art.

13
 DONKEY BACK

We were riding donkey back along the ridge of the Sterva, often
rounding into views of a deep-blue Mediterranean, other times descend-
ing into. gray-green valleys or winding our way through scented pine
forests. It was slow going, but delicious and invigorating, making us
glad to have broken away from the contained life of Sevilla.
The morning of the third day we cut inland into the sparsely-pop-
ulated mountain country between Ronda and the sea, an area famous
for its rugged beauty and its bandit and smuggler bands of the past.
As the day waned, we came upon a small ranch, from the doorway of
which a white-haired old man stood observing us.
**Buenas tardes.”’
**Buenas tardes.”’
’’Can I serve you in some way?’’, he questioned, looking us over
critically, his eyes softening a little as they took: note of our two spare
donkeys loaded down with provisions and belongings.
’*We seek nothing, old one, but the honor of having you join us
in a cup of good Valdepeiias #nto’’, my friend answered with Spanish
formality, patting one of the large leather wine skins carried by one of
the donkeys.
.'?’Con mucho gusto. With much pleasure’’, he replied. ’’Do one of
you play the guitar?’’, he asked, nodding at the donkey that was carry-
ing the guitar.
"I do’, I said, ’’and my partner is an illustrious gypsy cantaor,
famed in all of Andalucia.’
.The old man’s interest quickened, although he asked doubtfully
’’And you, being a foreigner, know well the flamenco?’’.
’’Of course, old one. My mother is Spanish, and I have lived in
Spain many years.”’
This was my time-tested answer which puts all wrongs right. The
wine flowed, and soon the old man’s family returned from tending the
sheep and goats and joined us. They sent for the one neighboring fami-
ly, and amid singing, playing, animated conversation, and a dinner of

15
garbanzos and lamb meat, we became good friends. During the course
of the evening the old man told us of a small livestock fair that was
to take place in a mountain village two days distant by donkey. He was
leaving for it the following day with his sheep and goats, and he invited
us to join him, explaining that it was customary for the fair to be high-
lighted by a gypsy wedding, or weddings, depending on this year’s crop
of young lovers, followed by days of celebration. Gypsies traveled to
this fair from considerable distance and, the old man explained, the
festivities would certainly be worth the trip. He thought that we should
have no trouble there, my friend being gypsy, and both of us flamen-
cos, an unbeatable combination of door-openers for such an occasion.
It sounded like a fine idea, and with a click of earthenware mugs we
toasted the trip.
At dawn we rounded up the old man’s flock and headed North.
We passed through untamed mountain country spotted with cave open-
ings, swooping hawks, and an occasional wild boar. It felt good to ride
alongside the tinkling animals, feeling the hot sun on our backs and
listening to the talk of the garrulous old man.
’’Bien, apprentice sheep herders. I hope you'll forgive me if I talk
too much. We rarely have visitors in these parts, and I get lonesome
for someone new to exchange impressions with.’’
""How many years have you lived in these mountains, old one’,
I asked.
’*Il was born in the village where we are headed around 1890 —
I’m not sure what year — and except for a few trips to Ronda, I’ve
never been away from here.’’
’’Ond’’, exclaimed the gypsy, ’’many years! Then you must have
seen a few bandits in your time?”’
’’Si, many of these caves hercabouts were hideaways for them.
The bandits were like everyone ttsc, some good and some bad. It was
always necessary to watch one’s women, and to carry a gun when tend-
ing the animals, but generally they would leave us poor people alone.
They used to make raids on the rich folks in some of the bigger towns,
or on the stages on the Ronda road, and then come down here to hide.
I‘ortunately they usually had moncy and women with them. It became
more dangerous when the Guardia started to clamp down, as they could
not raid successfully and they had to come to us for food and wine. I
remember when they got drunk they would sometimes have knife fights
to the death over a woman, or an insult, or merely for the desire to

16
fight. They were dangerous people, but basically like everyone; some
good and some bad. And cofio!, que flamencos.”’
When conversation fell off, the gypsy would improvise cantes,
usually humorous, about the animals, making the old man glow with
warmth. He was truly an animal lover, treating the animals as humans,
recognizing their needs and moods through long years of looking after
them.

Ay que burro, que bueno es

A ese burro de punta, tanto le gustan las borriquillas...

_Ay what a donkey, how good he is

That one leading the line, who is so crazy about girl donkeys...

’’T’ve never heard that one before’’, said the old man, laughing.
"Of course not. I just made.it up. At least part of it’’, the gypsy
replied, pleased with his creative success.
**Oye, Tumba’’, I said, calling the gypsy by his nickname, ’’tell
me, what is so extraordinary about a gypsy wedding? Does it differ so
much from a payo (non-gypsy) one?”’
’’Caray, is it different! A gypsy wedding is the most exciting thing
you'll ever see. And what a celebration afterwards! They’re the only
people in the world who know how to marry properly. It begins with
the novio (fiancé) and his friends ’kidnapping’ the novia, usually with
her consent, and carrying her off to the house of his parents: Then
emissaries are sent to contact the girl’s parents, to obtain their consent.
If it is given, the date is set, and all of the relatives and friends of both
families converge on the chosen spot, abandoning all of their pursuits
for at least three days, the minimum length of a respectful celebration.
Often several marriages are arranged for the same time and place, with
the resultant celebration being something barbarous.’’ The gypsy’s eyes
shown with enthusiasm, obviously remembering distant pleasures. ’’The
test of the girl’s virtue is in effect the marriage ceremony; the white
silk handkerchief is inserted, and if it becomes stained with the blood
of the girl, the ritual of celebration begins. The girl is covered with a
deluge of flowers from all directions, and then the ceremony of the
adoration of the bride is effected by the parents of the couple falling on
their knees around the girl and dancing a dance of the upper torso and
arms. The bride and bridegroom are then taken into the bedroom and

17
the Albore4s (1) are sung. They are truly fine and gay. This is later fol-
lowed by the bride performing a marriage dance in the middle of a
circle of gypsies, who heap upon her showers of almond blossoms. This
is usually the last of the rituals, and from then on it is every man for
himself until he is too exhausted to continue celebrating.’’
We were climbing continually into a green splendor of cascading
streams and snow white clouds. There had been a heavy rainfall that
spring, which had caused the slopes to blossom with a rash of wild
flowers and small animal life. Far below us to the west a little white
village nestled in a valley, its houses like mushrooms against the green
valley floor. The air felt fresh and clean.
**Dios, qué bonito!’’, breathed the old man. ’’I’ve lived here 70
years and have never gotten over the beauty of spring in this Sterra.
Wait until you see the village where we go. It is out of a fairy tale. It
has no roads, and is only accessible to donkey caravans and with great
difficulty donkey carts. There are only cobblestones and flowers and
wild grass for streets, the houses have red-tile roofs and are newly
white-washed every year, there are plants and flowers in every window
and balcony, and there is a man dedicated solely to picking up the litter
in the village. And there is a beautiful clear stream that runs along the
eastern edge, lined with willows and poplars.”’
That night we camped on a level spot on the side of a steep, pine-
sprinkled slope. A nearby stream swirled downhill, mixing its persistent
gurgling with the crackling of our fire. We were content and above
worldly preoccupations. The old man made us a steaming-hot moun-
tain drink, a real quitapenas, consisting of red wine, cognac, lemon,
and a little sugar. Two other donkey caravans had joined us, spotting
us from across the nartow valley, and an interesting discussion was
launched concerning the gypsies and their niche in life. Some (arguing
in the Spanish way, not necessarily out of conviction but out of the
desire to prolong the discussion) argued that the gypsies are a ’’blot’’
on society, while others maintained that the gypsies led the only plau-
sible way of life (referring to the true gypsies as yet untainted by mo-
dern civilization).
’’That they have no ambition, that they refuse to work?!! And
you consider these failings? Hombre, don’t you realize that this ’’ambi-

(1) See Alboreds in the Part III Encyclopedia for a more complete
description of this ceremony.

18
 tion’’ that you praise is the greatest motivating evil the world has
known. One must have principles or ambition, as these two forces are
instinctive enemies and are constantly at each others throats. Woe on
the man who has both, for he will have a raging turmoil inside his
person. For ambition, in the modern sense of the word, is the desire to
*get ahead,’ and it is a rare man who can ’get ahead’ without sacrific-
ing his integrity and his principles. And this other thing that you con-
sider a fault: the refusal to work in some hated job that the payo takes
merely to make money, or gain prestige, or ’get ahead’, or what have
you. This rejection of work is the greatest of gypsy virtues! We refuse
to prostitute our integrity in this way. We prefer to obey our natural
instincts, although we may suffer more and work harder in obeying them
than we would taking a soft payo job and wasting away our lives. Be-
sides, who has the superior intelligence ; he who works unhappily within
the System, or he who pursues his own interests and remains above the
System?’’ This speaker was a dark-skinned young gypsy with consider-
able reputation as a poet.
**Claro estd’’, spoke up an obviously respected old man, the lea-
der of one of the newly-arrived caravans who gave the impression of
being some sort of tribal wise man or witch doctor, ’’it is clear that the
gypsies have outlived their age. God meant for us to live off of the fat
of the land, moving from place to place feeding on wild fruits and fowl
and abundant animal life, never abusing as the payo does, never de-
pleting our sources like fools, never causing the extinction of entire
species of animals, never exploiting, but merely taking what we needed.
But now, through a complex puzzle of cause and effect not even under-
stood by the payo himself, all of the lands have fences, the fruits and
domestic animals owners, and the wild life is disappearing because of
its exploitation by the so-called ‘civilized’ people. The gypsies should
have been cut up for steaks along with the rest of the wild life, because
we no longer belong. If we wish to follow our natural instincts, to pursue
our way of life, to retain our integrity, we have no other recourse but
to steal our daily food and to camp on the property of others. The fool
payo does not understand that we are the last of God’s children, and
that they are merely slaves to a system which reduces their lives to in-
significance. Their instincts are moved when we come into sight, they
momentarily realize the purposelessness of their existence, and they are
beset by envy and longing. But instead of joining us, they chose to hate
us. We have always been.a threat to their serenity, we have always

19
made them see the absurdity of their lives, and they have chosen to
drive us away, to banish us from their lands and their minds as one will
banish a wrong from his conscience.’’ The snow-white hair and nearly
black face of the speaker gave him a primitive appearance in the fire-
light sharply belied by his words. ’’We are the symbol of everything
that they lack; integrity, individualism, freedom. They cannot permit
the gypsy to be the constant reminder of the ball-less void of their lives,
so they have humiliated us, attempted to break our spirit, banished us
to city slums... they have truly sinned by denying God's children their
intended existence.’’
’*One has but to think of the impertinence of the payo’’, said our
old man. ’’They ‘discover’ lands that have been inhabited for thousands
of years by several civilizations, and they proudly plant their flag and
claim the land for their country. Not a thought is given to its present
inhabitants, unless the ‘discoverers’ try to soothe their consciences dur-
ing their plundering, murdering, and exploitation by deceiving them-
selves and the world into believing that they are committing their crimes
in the names of Religion, the State, and Progress.’’
’*You are right, viejo’, the poet replied vengefully. ’’It is that
mankind is consumed with greed, lust, and a doltish possessiveness.
Why can they not leave the lands free, as God intended? How do they
have the impudence to place a price on God’s real estate? To me, all
of civilization paints a bile-retching picture of the strong abusing the
weak. Ambition, egoism, and violent stupidity invariably are trium-
phant over integrity, principles, and goodness!’’
Christ, I thought, can these be the ignorant, immoral gypsies that
my Spanish friends and acquaintances are constantly belittling. Gypey
reasoning may be innocent and impractically honest, but next to these
people my cunning friends have little to feel superior about.
The gypsies talked on, of the trials of their lives, their difficulties
and disappointments, and as they talked, they became more and more
depressed. Their depression became profound and directionless and
morbid, almost like an orgy of despondency. They sank into the black
and bottomless, but one could sense that, like all depressives, they were
spurred on by a certain unconscious pleasure in their very suffering.
Talking was no longer enough. Their expression, as always at such
times, turned to poetry and song. I began playing a slow, melancholy
Siguiriyas, and the poet stood up by the fire and dramatically recited

20
one of Lorca’s cante jondo poems, describing a cantaora singing to a
dancer robed in long, black trains of silk, symbol of death.

Lamparas de cristal
y espejos verdes.
Sobre el tablado oscuro
la Parrala sostiene
una conversacion
con la muerte.
La llama,
no viene,
y la vuelve a llamar.
Las gentes
aspiran los sollozos.
Y en los espejos verdes
largas colas de seda
se mueven.

Crystal lamps
and green mirrors.
Upon a dark platform
la Parrala sustains
@ conversation
with death.
She calls,
death does not come,
and she calls again.
The people
are enveloped by her sobs.
In the green mirrors
long trains of silk
move.

Desolate cantes followed, each further fomenting the dejection of

the impressionable gypsies. Moments such as these incite the jondo in
men, and the miracle of the duende occurs; for the duende is the ex-
posure of one’s soul, its misery and suffering, love and hate, offered
without embarrassment or resentment. It is a cry of despair, a release
of tortured emotions, to be found in its true profundity only in real life
situations, not in the make-believe world of theatres and night clubs

2)
and commercial caves as a product that can be bought and sold and
produced at will.
A moving Soled by a wild-eyed gypsy from Jerez:
Por ti abandoné a mis ninas,
mi mare de peniia murid;
ahora te vas y me abandonas,
jno tienes perdén de Did!
For you I abandoned my little girls,
my mother died of sorrow;
and now you abandon me...
may you be eternally damned!
A chilling Fandangos de Triana by Tumba:
Una mujer se morta
sus hijos la rodeaban
y el mds chico la decia
Mamd mirame ala cara
no te mueras todavia...

A woman was dying

her children surrounded her
and the smallest said to her
Mama look at my face
don’t die yet...
A forlorn Playera of a loved one lost:
Detrds del carrito
Uoraba mi madre:
no loraba agiista,
que Uoraba sangre.
Behind the funeral cart
sobbed my mother:
she didn’t weep tears,
she wept blood.
As the gypsies sang, the campfire caused fleeting visions, now
flickering on a rock, now on a tree, of the black-robed, dancing figure
of death reigning over her terrible domain: the tragedies of unfortunate
love; a dying mother surrounded by her horrified children; the cart of

22
the dead rumbling its burden to the grave, a stricken mother stumbling
blindly behind... The singing carried long into the night on the side of
that lonely mountain, far from civilization, and finally an indescribable
feeling surged to the surface; the moment arrived when mature men
could weep cold, grim tears, lamenting the twisted fate of their lives,
their race, and all mankind.

The village was as the old man had described. It smelled of grass
and flowers and animals, and it exuded an enchanted feeling of the
past, before there were machines or fallout, when the stars were still a
mystery and the moon romantic, and when each region of the world
had its own personality. People were arriving by horse, mule, and don-
key back, many with their flocks of animals to be sold or bartered,
others solely to participate in the wedding celebrations. .
. .The old man, Tumba, and myself, together with our new friends
of the previous evening, set up camp in a select grove bordering the
rushing stream. We noticed that it was ideal for flamenco, having a
level clearing in the middle of the grove. We hung the still brimming
wine skins on trees, dug a barbeque pit and set up.a spit, put the ani-
mals to graze, and settled back to watch the activity. Everyone was in
the state of fine spirits always caused by the anticipation of a good
time.. The few gypsies with horses were prancing about with their
women balancing effortlessly on the rumps of the horses. Others were
in groups talking animatedly, and still others, like ourselves, were rest-
ing up for the big blast. There were going to be no less than three wed-
dings, and the competition between the celebrants was expected to be
fierce. Who could have a better time longer, drink more, sleep less!?
Our camp was unexcelled for popularity. We had much to offer:
two skins full of good tinto, an outstanding singer, renowned gypsy
intellectuals, and phenomenon of phenomenons, a:’’guitarrista: America-
no’’. The old man, as was his ‘yearly custom, had singled out two of
his best sheep for roasting, and everyone was invited to partake of the
sizzling, smoke-flavoured meat. This was, as he explained, his once-a-
year fling, and there wouldn’t be many more; He was having an abso-
lutely: delightful time, half-tight at all hours, and rollickingly gay. Most

23
of the celebrants were old friends of his, and with each he insisted on
sharing remembrance cups of wine and of showing off his flamenco
friends.
"Anda, primos, the Bulerias’’, he would urge, and when we start-
ed off he would jump into the clearing and begin dancing. When tight
the old man was a natural comedian, and he would have all of us roar-
ing with laughter. Hearing the jaleo, other people would run up, and
the old man always managed to select as his dancing partner the pretti-
est gitana in the crowd, whom he would set about ’’winning’’ with more
antics. Then Tumba, with a wink, would dance in and sing to the gi-
tana, pretending to woo her away from the old man, who would respond
with sham indignation and stage a mock battle with Tumba; all in
perfect time to this difficult rhythm. The gypsy girl, entering into the
spirit of the dance, would flirt unabashedly with them both, and then,
with a flip of her head and a saucy turn of her body, leave them and
dance back to her boyfriend. Other gypsies would soon be dancing and
singing and playing their guitars, competing, outdoing each other, and
the mountain seemed to vibrate with joy. The Bulerias, the Alboreds,
the Rumba Gitana, the Tientos Canasteros, the Chuflas, all of the mer-
ry cantes and bailes were sung and danced. The weddings took place
in the manner that Tumba had described, and for four days the cele-
brating continued; four days of laughing, loving, love-making, the
gypsies driving themselves to a wild frenzy, tearing at their clothes, but
always good-humored and staying within certain gypsy limits and laws
regardless of their delirious drunkenness.
The whole village took part in the celebrations. Small children and
old women danced gaily in the streets, old men sang with cracked
voices, and gnarled working hands played antique guitars. Wine could
not be purchased. It was everywhere, and it was free. The simple vil-
lage houses were open to all. Romance was natural and without compli-
cations, and strangely innocent and clean. Pacts were made, promises
were whispered, only to be forgotten with the next day’s adventures.
For four days and nights our campsite played host to the composite
caprices of wine, love, flamenco, and gaiety.
On the fifth day it happened. No one knows quite how or why. A
flash of knives in the village bar, and a gypsy, unknown to us, fell with
his heart punctured. The celebration died with him; the craziness filter-
ed away and left the bedraggled remains of four tumultuous days and
nights. The knifed man was buried further down the mountain, and the

2
wailing of a gypsy song of mourning carried eerily to our campsite. A
weariness and depression settled over the village like a dense fog as the
voice from downstream, raucous and miserable, sang of death, hopeless-
ness, the futility of life:
Con las fatiguitas de la muerte
a un latto yo me arrimo;
con mi arma destrozd
sufro mi sino...
With the weariness of death
I creep to one side;
with a soul void of hope
I suffer my destiny...
After a time the voice stopped, and the oppression began melting
away before an overpowering fatigue that could no longer be ignored.
Senses were numb and minds blank with tiredness as the tempestuous
gypsies fell to the ground, exhausted. The celebrations and the mourn-
ing had finally ended.

Across the clearing village lamps blinked out one by one, and an
occasional dog challenged the infringing darkness. Small night sounds
crept stealthily about as the campfires flickered low, and the gypsies
succumbed to a deep, unmoving sleep.

25
 JUERGA

The jwerga (flamenco session) began at my place at about ro p. m.

I have an ideal set-up in the Barrio Santa Cruz, the picturesque old
Jewish quarter in Sevilla where summertime flamenco can be heard
issuing from surrounding plazas. Of course, outdoor juergas are against
the law now, but they go on just the same, reminding the old-timers
nostalgically of the gay, wide-open Sevilla of thirty years ago.
**Leche’’, they confide, ’*how you would have enjoyed Sevilla in
those days. Down by the Siete Puertas (1) every building had a bar,
and every bar flamencos. Sevilla had the reputation of being the gaiest
town in Spain. It was a kind of tonic — people came from all over
Spain to escape their lives and problems in the activity of Sevilla. Now
they prohibit singing, dancing, and even the guitar in the bars. It is
truly a changed, sad city.’’
But this particular juevga was anything but sad. It was one of the
many that we have at my place, which are the scandals of the neigh-
borhood. Inappropriately, that romantic tangle of old crooked passages
and hidden gardens is inhabited by traditional families with their noses
to the social grindstone. They greatly disapprove of gypsies and fla-
mencos in the neighborhood, and moreso of people who entertain them.
The juerga was one of the good, serious ones. The artists and the
audience were few, and carefully chosen for their ability, knowledge,
and compatibility. There were two cantaores, a batlaora, and a guitarist,
four of Spain’s non-commercial best, and five listeners, all devout afi-
cionados.
We started out with good Jerez wine, olives, fried fish, chorizo,
and conversation, encouraging the old-timers to reminisce about legen-
dary flamencos, and the merits of contemporary ones. They would il-
lustrate their points by singing, or playing, passages of former greats,
often comparing them with present styles.

(1) The Siete Puertas (Seven Doors) is a bar which still exists in Sevilla,
and which used to be the center of Sevilla’s flamenco life.

26
 A discussion of two of flamenco’s legendary cantaores arose, and
one of the singers, Juan Talegas, expounded an interesting comparison:
”*Antonio Chacén, of course, was a far superior singer, but Manuel
Torre, when in the mood, eva tinico (was in a class by himself). His
cante struck straight at the heart in a manner that was unbelievable.
Chacon, also, was capable of evoking great emotion, but Torre had a
duende that only one in a million possesses. The trouble with Torre
was that unless he was moved he could not sing at all, while Chacon
always sang beautifully.”’
Then Juan, who had been a personal friend of both, demonstrated
the differences in their styles and approaches to the Cante in a manner
that would be invaluable in a good anthology.
As‘ the wine took effect faces became illuminated and gaiety para-
mount, and cantes por Bulerias irrepressibly bubbled. forth, intermixed
with a maze of gypsy guitar falsetas (passages) and an occasional dance.
The juerga was soon in full swing, and the music and dance flowed,
seriously or lightly as moods changed, into the early hours of the morn-
ing. How dawn arrived so quickly no one could explain, except that
in a good juerga hours seem to pass as minutes. - .
Finally we became restless, and the juerga began developing into
good-natured hell-raising. We decided to go out to a neighboring vil-
lage, a famous outpost of flamenco, for coffee and aguardiente. and
whatever adventures might arise.
Upon arriving we installed ourselves in a local taberna, and before
long were joined by the cement factory workers who began dropping in
for their early-morning copitas (eye-openers). (By the time they had
both eyes open they had decided that work could wait, and they joined
in).
And the juerga carried on, and grew, and grew; we soon outgrew
the little taberna, and spilled up the street to a larger, more central café
where we were joined by still more of the local flamencos.
The town was up and about by now, which added colour to the
festivities. Groups of chiquillas hazarded by to the accompaniment of
devastating flattery (so we thought) and irresistible flamenco. We were
the shameless recipients of dagger-like stares thrown by indignant, Mass-
bound women in black. The old fellow from the hardware store down
the block closed shop and joined us. A few bankers, lawyers, and doc-
tors embarrassedly skittered in, supposedly out on business calls. The
festivities became such that even the eternal domino game broke up

27
when an apprentice bartender leaped on the table and danced until he
went tumbling, table and all.
The proceedings were becoming a bit scandalous, a local guardia
pointed out, in view of which one of the more enthusiastic aficionados,
a local bull breeder, prudently suggested we move out to his finca
(ranch) ; we did, en masse.
By this time the juerga was developing into a town fiesta, and we
were joined by many of the village adventurous. In the corral of the
finca the breeder broke out one of his wéreros (young fighting bulls),
which proceeded to inflict minor injuries on wine-reckless aficionados.
After a few such one-sided encounters, the town hopeful finally jumped
in and showed us how to fight, passing the bull time and again with
serious saturales and Manoletinas to thunderous shouts of ’’olé’’!
’’Another Manolete’’, his admirers claimed.
**Veremos. We'll see’’, replied tough old-timers, who had too often
seen young flashes wither away.
Finally the boy turned his back on the bull and stalked to the cor-
ral wall, displaying by his coolness his complete dominance of the bull.
His followers could contain themselves no longer; up on their shoulders
he went, to be paraded about the fica in heroic confusion.
By now countless local aficionados were dancing and singing in
large groups about the patio, and the din of boisterous singing, laugh-
ing, and shouting began to make our heads throb. During the proceed-
ings some gypsy girls chanced along, and one of the singers proposed
that a group of us escape to the tranquility of his place in Alcal4. He
is a very fine singer, but one of the non-commercial, non-prosperous
breed, and his ’’place’’ is a rather romantic cave cut into a hillside over-
looking the river Guadaira, just below the ruins of an old Roman
castle. Who could resist the idea.
On arriving we lounged about at the entrance to the cave, sipping
fino and feeling mellow and somehow exalted after our night of juer-
ga. Below us women washed clothes in the river, and nude children
played blissfully in the high grass along the edge. A donkey stood pick-
eted nearby, watching us with ancient eyes as God must watch fools
in their folly. I began stroking the guitar softly, lazily, and the girls
sang romantic verses in low, caressing, gypsy voices...
La luna es un pozo chico,
las flores no valen nada,

28
 lo que valen son tus brazos
cuando de noche me abrazan...

The moon is a little well,

flowers are worth nothing;
what is of value are your arms
when at night they embrace me...

‘As the music blended with faraway sounds, an overwhelming sense

of peace pervaded the group. For the moment we were all brothers, dif-
ferences forgotten, prejudices dissolved...
Across the river distant olive groves simmered in the afternoon sun,
and time, and the juerga, droned contentedly on...

29
 FLAMENCO AND THE BULLFIGHT

Flamenco and the Fiesta (spectacle of bullfighting) are deeply re-

lated. This connection is undeniable, and vital for an understanding of
either. Both stem basically from the common people, and they stir the
same basic emotions and passions. Both are given flashes of erratic
genius by gypsies, and a sense of indomitable steadiness and respon-
sibility by the Andalucians. And they have in common another impor-
tant factor: they are the two most probable ways that the commoner
can break out of his social and economic level.
This relationship has been dealt with often, but is still little under-
stood. The guitarist Sabicas has tried to capture it on his record ’’Day
of the Bullfight’’. The poet Garcia Lorca wrote inseparably of fla-
menco and the bulls. Gonzdlez Climent dedicated an entire book to the
psychological and physical ties between the flamenco dance and song,
and the Fiesta. My brief contribution follows, spiced with the fabulous
poetry of Garcia Lorca:

Late in the afternoon on bullfight days the sun slants mena-

cingly against the irregular geometry of Andalucian villages, il-
luminating the stark-whiteness of humble houses crowding hapha-
zardly about churches, Moorish ruins, and, symbols of Andalucia,
bull rings.
On these days the air is charged with excitement, anxiety,
fear... and a source-less undercurrent of a flamenco guitar, sound-
ing at first slowly, clearly, profoundly, and then growing louder
and raspier and cruel as the blood of man or beast spills to the
sand...

A las cinco de la tarde.

Eran las cinco en punto de la tarde.
Un nifio trajo la blanca sdbana
a las cinco de la tarde.

30
 Una espuerta de cal ya prevenida
a las cinco de la tarde.
Lo demds era muerte y solo muerte
a las cinco de la tarde.
jQue no quiero verla!
Dile a la luna que venga
que no quiero ver la sangre
de Ignacio sobre la arena (1).
At five in the afternoon.
It was five sharp in the afternoon.
A small boy brought the white sheet
at five in the afternoon.
A basket of lime was already prepared
at five in the afternoon.
Everything else was death, and only death,
at five tn the afternoon.
I can’t stand to see tt!
Tell night to fall;
I don’t want to see the blood
of Ignacio on the sand.
The eternal guitar plays on, and its duende seeps into aficio-
nados, the walls, the wine, everywhere, and makes the village
vibrant and explosive. It does not subside until long after the bull-
fight and the inevitable juergas, and even then never completely
disappears.
For this guitar is the soul of flamenco, the soul of bullfighting...
the timeless essence of Andalucia.

Empieza el Uanto
de la guitarra.
Se rompen las copas
de la madrugada.
Empieza el llanto
de la gustarra.
Es inutil callarla.
Es imposible

(1) From ’Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias’, by Federico Garcia

rea.

31
 callaria.
Llora mondtona
como Uora el agua,
como llora el viento
sobre la nevada.
Es imposible
callarla.
Llora por cosas
lejanas.
Avena del Sur caliente
que pide camelias blancas.
Llora flecha sin blanco,
la tarde sin manana (1).

The cry
of the gustar begins.
The crystals of dawn
shatter.
The wail
of the guitar begins.
It is useless to silence it.
It is impossible
to silence it.
It cries monotonously
like water cries,
like wind cries
over frozen peaks.
It is impossible
to silence it.
It bemoans
distant things.
It is the hot Southern sand
craving white camellias.
It ts an arrow without destination,
the afternoon without tomorrow.

(1) “La Guitarra’, by Federico Garcia Lorca.

32
“The Price of Freedom’’, Note difference in color of payo and gypsy faces.
 “EI[LAIG JO SYIYS}NO sy} YsNOIG) Aem
sy soyeu Apmojs Armes AsdA3 ev se (o1Inq puoras) 9143s asooded patiues st yuejyur Asdid y
- = a” oa We ks er . ea - ~_—
—
ey
—
<
- "fe.
pe et ; . fine kee
i os - +s SRD 8 - ae s
ee ee oS = iy“$ypw
: ; je ~ neg Jp ‘ me ;
aot a : : See 2
eon

>
—
=
= = -
weeuvsu sii lei rsesem
 GYPSIES

That which is Gypsy

is found in the surge of blood
and in the grooves of hands...
SOLEARIYAS

The gypsies in Spain have various class distinctions and ways of

life. There are those who have entered wholeheartedly into the ’’civiliz-
ed’’ payo (non-gypsy) way of life. Others have accepted some payo
customs, but remain on the fringe. And others, a small minority, have
remained true to their traditional way of life, and have thus far rejected
payo society.
Those who have accepted the payo way of life wholeheartedly have
done so to the extent of actually working steadily, and even opening
their own businesses. These people are a relatively respected element in
their communities, and in the process have had to sacrifice many of
their gypsy instincts and drives.
More interesting are the fringe gypsies, by far the largest group.
These. are the people who have been lured, or driven, from their
natural life on the open road to a life of squalor in urban slums. The
exceptions to this are the talented — the bull fighters, flamenco artists,
literary. people, etc., whom, if they are willing to work commercially,
can make enough money for the essentials. But the others, the non-
talented who cannot find work (gypsies are not known as good employ-
ment risks), or who are convinced that the gypsies are above ordinary
work, and should live by their wits alone, usually fare badly on the
fringe. Other than work they have only two alternatives: to go hungry,
or to become con men. The latter explains the gypsies roaming all
large Andalucian towns who approach tourists with offers of women,
contraband, and what have you. Fast fingers and basic begging are
also common.
The gypsies who most excite the imagination are Spain’s nomads.
They ate the aristocracy of the gypsies, and feel an unconcerned scorn
for their ’’contaminated”’ brothers and their payo ways.
In modern times these nomad gypsies band together in families or

33
clans, rarely consisting of more than fifteen or twenty members. These
people live basically the same life that they have lived for centuries.
They are still constantly on the move. They still talk a form of Romani,
the gypsy language that was derived from the Indian Sanskrit. And
they are still one of the few races that can honestly claim a degree of
true liberty.
These nomad gypsies travel from natural campsite to natural
campsite, doing what they can to provide for their basic essentials.
They have an admirable lack of respect for material things, and all they
really need is enough food and drink and clothing to survive. To obtain
these essentials they perform, tell fortunes, sharpen knives, trade in
horses and antiques (buying useless looking objects from house to house
and reselling to antique dealers), and so forth. (Some nomad families
even consider these part-time activities as ’’undignified’’). Their per-
formances are generally of flamenco, acrobatics, sundry musical in-
struments, and trained animal pets, and are given in the streets or in
small taverns for tossed coins. During hard times they are not above
raiding chicken coops, orchards, and clothes lines, and they have fame
of sometimes stealing for pleasure. They are usually dirty, ignorant of
payo ways (as we are ignorant of theirs), superstitious, violent, clan-
nish... and at the same time clever, funloving, faithful, tender, proud,
individualistic, and (virtue of virtues) free.
I recently talked to one such nomad family that was overflowing
a wooden cart drawn by two donkeys. They were twelve and multi-
talented. The parents are cantaores, and most of the ten children perform
flamenco and acrobatics. Before coming to Spain some fifteen years
ago, the parents had roamed Italy, France, and the Slavic countries,
and seemed to speak six or seven languages more or less fluently
(including Romani, Serbio, Spanish, French, Italian, and Yugoslavian).
The father claims to come from an aristocratic Yugoslavian gypsy
family that lost its wealth during World War II. He is obviously educat-
ed, and talked intelligently and clearly of their life and philosophy.
After chatting awhile, I asked him why preferred his rootless existance
(typical payo phraseology) to a normal payo life.
He replied with a dissertation.
’*Hombre, do you realize what it is to live with nature, to amble
alongside this old cart in the sun and sleep under the stars, to have no
ties and do exactly as I damn well please? When we desire entertain-
ment we travel to gypsy reunions and fiestas, where there is always

34
plenty of food, drink, and good times. When we need money we
perform in town plazas — what we earn in a week of performing carries
us over for a month or two. You see, I have no need for payo necessi-
ties or luxuries. I have no desire to own a house, or a car, or to go to
work every day like a half-brain. It seems to me that the payo works
all of his life for things that he does not really want or need. He sits in
a closed office dreaming of open fields and mountains and beaches, and
when he finally is allowed a vacation he travels to a resort area milling
with people and pushes his way around for two weeks and spends his
savings. He lives in fear and anxiety of his employer, a possible depres-
sion or war, old age, and a thousand other things either completely out
of his control or not worth the effort. But we, in our simple existance,
have everything that we need to be happy. I have a wonderful, talent-
ed family. If we feel like spending the summer on a beach, or in a
mountain forest, we do so. We have friends and relatives in all parts
of Spain. Of course, there are hardships — the rain and cold, occasional
hunger — but the life of no one is perfect. En fin, as long as we are
left alone, we can’t ask for anything more. You look like you under-
stand what I am trying to say. Verdad?’’
"Yes, I’m afraid I do, only too clearly’, I replied, adding in a
soft undertone, more for myself than for the old gypsy, ’’that’s the
problem’’.

35
 PROGRESS

Apart from their music, the traditional flamencos are natural actors.
Their preferred life is in the streets and cafés, where they can see and
be seen, admire and feel admired. They enjoy being nattily dressed,
and they have an indestructible attitude of being somebody unique.
Armed with these assets, and a glass or two of aguardtente, they strut
like cocks, being at once expansive, authoritative, friendly, condescend-
ing, formal, dignified, and above all, individualistic. They are not
ambitious, and are capable of living happily with only the basic neces-
sities. The concepts and developments of progress are reprehensible to
them. They scorn the rat race and its participants, together with such
obnoxious modern phenomenon as demanding traffic lights, motor-
cluttered streets, shining cafeterias, and grim, unseeing civilization
bustling to no destination.
Inevitably traditional flamenco philosophy will give ground to
progress. Materialism, life insurance, grave sites on installments, and
pressing demands will take their toll, and self-confident flamenco faces
will cloud with doubt and insecurity.
This is progress as it affects flamenco.
 PART II

THE ART OF FLAMENCO

 ORIGIN AND BACKGROUND

Contrary to a widespread belief, the Spanish gypsies were not the

creators of the mysterious art called flamenco. Flamenco is a music that
has spread to southern Spain from many sources. It has been traced,
through numerous theories and much stimulated guesswork, to such
diffuse countries as Morroco, Egypt, India, Pakistan, Israel, and to the
East and Far East in general. Theoreticians claim a strong Byzantine
influence (one singer, Manuel Molina, used the Gregorian Chant as the
basis for his flamenco Malaguena). Anyone familiar with the music and
dance of these various cultures would certainly find astonishing similar-
ities between the religious music of any of them, and the flamenco cante
jondo (deep song). Particularly prevalent are the Arabic, Indian, Jewish,
and Byzantine influences, which is natural enough, as these cultures
have all played an important part in Spain’s development. Regardless
of its origin, however, credit has to be given the gypsies, flamenco’s
Iain perpetuators and interpreters, and the Andaluces of southern
Spain, for the development of flamenco to the position it holds today
as one of the world’s most intricate and moving arts.
From the time of the arrival of the first gypsy bands in Spain, the
course of flamenco has followed a fairly defined outline, and the influ-
ences of these various cultures can be more accurately traced.
It has been generally affirmed that the gypsies proceeded to Spain
after being persecuted and driven out of India by the horsemen of
Tamerlane in the year 1400. After their expulsion they apparently
wandered up into East Asia and eventually told fortunes and stole their
way across Russia, the Slavic Countries, Germany, and France, leaving
many tribes along the way, until the remaining tribes finally arrived to
Barcelona around the year 1447 (1).

(1) José Carlos de Luna maintains that a previous migration of gypsies

arrived to Andalucia, by way of Mesopotamia and Egypt, many centuries
before this. migration. He calls these the ’’gitanos de la bética’’, and says that
they also: probably came from India, or even further East. This theory can be
neither proven nor disproven.

39
 Within Spain they wended their way South during the same period
that the Christians were completing their reconquest of Andalucia from
the Moors (2). Shortly after the triumph of the Christians, the gypsies
arrived in Andalucia, and were accepted benevolently during a Chris-
tian policy of peaceful co-existence with all cultures. However, around
the year 1500 the Christians decided to rid Spain of its ’’undesirable
elements’. They consequently passed laws ordering the expulsion from
Spain of the Moors and the Jews, and at approximately the same time
all gypsies who had no useful profession were ordered back to the
open road, with the intention that they should leave Spain as soon as
possible. These laws were followed by a reign of terror against those
of the forbidden cultures who, for one reason or another, refused to
obey.
As a consequence, these three persecuted cultures, the Jewish, the
Arabic, and the Gypsy, with outwardly little in common, found them-
selves united against a common foe — the hated Christians. They
grouped into bands in uninhabited mountain regions, hiding in the
wilderness and making forays against Christian communities and car-
avans for food and provisions. They were soon joined by many Chris-
tian fugitives and dissenters, who added a fourth distinct culture.
From the common life of these persecuted peoples appeared the
first semblances of flamenco, as we know it. Arabic, Jewish, Indian
and Christian religious and folk music blended with the fiery gypsy
temperament and genius for improvisation, developing over the cen-
turies into a majestic art called ’’flamenco’’.
Why was it called flamenco? No one knows, but theories exist. One
theory claims that the Spanish Jews who migrated to Flanders (flamen-
co is said to literally mean Flemish) were allowed to sing their religious
chants unmolested. These songs were referred to as ’’flamenco’’ songs
by their Spanish brothers, who were forbidden them by the Inquisition.
Another more feasible theory states that the word ’’flamenco’’ is a
Mispronunciation of the Arabic words ’’felag’’ and ’’mengu’’ (felag-
mengu), which means ’’fugitive peasant’’. It is likely that this term
was borrowed from the Arabs (Arabic was a common language m An-
dalucia at that time) and applied to all of the persecuted people who
fled to the mountains. Through usage in Spanish ’’felagmengu’’ was

(:) The Moors ruled in much of Spain for nearly eight centuries (VIII-
XV). bui'ding Andalucia into one of the great cultural centers of the known
world.

40
transformed into ’’flamenco’’, until eventually the term flamenco was
adopted by the fugitives themselves and in turn applied to their music.
The main form of flamenco at that time, the cante jondo, expressed
the suffering of these outlawed people, who through the years were
condemned to serve in the galleys, in chain gangs, and in the Spanish
army in América, were prohibited to talk their own language, and who,
during one prolonged period, suffered the death penalty, often by
torture, for just belonging to a wandering or outlawed band. Somehow
their spirit remained unbroken, and their mode of expression —their
flamenco— developed to magnificent heights through the centuries,
culminating in the Café Cantante period of the last century. From this
’*Golden Age’’ flamenco declined sharply, passing through a period of
decadence and abuse in the first half of this century which nearly caus-
ed its extinction. The reasons for this decline, as well as for the present
trend of renewed purity and hope, will be discussed later in the book.

41
 WHAT IS FLAMENCO?

Present day flamenco consists of

singing (cante)
dancing (baile)
guitar playing (toque)
jaleo (rhythm accentuation) and reciting
each of which I shall deal with separately in succeeding chapters. They
are all distinctive arts in their own right, and can stand alone, although
the complete visual, musical, and emotional image of flamenco can
only be grasped through the participation of all of these fundamental
components. This is not to say that during a juerga particular solo
numbers featuring a soloist or any combination of performers cannot
be a rewarding experience. It merely suggests that to achieve the perfect
moment in flamenco, the singing, dancing, and the guitar all have to
blend together in complete harmony.
A recent experience of mine can serve as an example. I attended,
as the only non-Spaniard and one of the few non-gypsies, a homage
given by the Brotherhood of the Gypsies of Triana (Sevilla) for the
singer Antonio Mairena. The guests of honor, other than Mairena, were
Juan Talegas, the old master of the traditional school of cante jondo,
La Fernanda and La Bernarda de Utrera, outstanding cante jondo,
singers and followers of Talegas, the guitarist Diego del Gastor, and
others.
The juerga began in the traditional manner, with dinner and quan-
tities of wine, erupting around midnight into gay dancing, singing, and
jaleo, totally carefree and uninhibited. We carried on in this state dur-
ing the emptying of two or three more wine skins, amid the excellence
of the gay cantes of Mairena, La Fernanda, La Bernarda, and others,
until a quiet expectancy slowly settled over the gathering. The time had
atrived when moods were mellow, and bodies and throats were wine-
warmed and flexible. Diego began drumming a slow, melancholy Si-
gutriyas.. Mairena, infected with the duende of Diego’s playing, started
singing this despairing rhythm amid absolute stillness. He sang beauti-

42
ad
fully and with great emotion, finishing on a note of tragedy, pervading
the room with a quieting depression. La Fernanda and La Bernarda
were shamelessly weeping. The guitar sounded again, this time the
sluggish, persistent call of the Soleares (loneliness). Juan Talegas, the
recognized master of the Soleares, began, and despondency deepened.
He sang interminably, in ancient ways that are nearly forgotten, slowly,
methodically. Suddenly a barefoot girl was dancing. No one saw her
begin; they only saw her somehow appear in the middle of the dirt
floor, surrounded by the mahogany faces of spellbound gypsies. She
moved in a tortuous way, dancing in the superb manner that the
moment demanded, moving only her hands and arms, completely lost
in the trance of the charged flamenco atmosphere. The singer sang to
her, the guitarist played for her, and she moved toward them, respond-
ing with a pureness of dance and movement that had the effect of
somehow exaulting the crowd, while at the same time intensifying their
desolation. They had reached the culmination, flamenco’s perfect
moment, when all of flamenco’s components were combined in a rare
purity of expression. The monotonous, beating rhythm continued,
slower and slower, until, without warning, the guitar seemed to die at
the perfect time. We were all very quiet, completely entranced, a little
ashamed of our raw emotions, and yet savouring the impact of the
experience that we knew would rarely be repeated.
There was no more performing that night, and not long after, the
juerga broke up. Further performing was impossible. Ya estaba todo
dicho. Everything had been said.

The major scope of flamenco (singing, dancing, guitar) is divided

into four categories:
profound or deep flamenco (jondo or grande)
intermediate flamenco (intermedio)
light flamenco (chico)
popular flamenco
The jondo flamenco is the means by which a manic-depressive
society expresses its black moods. Serious and melancholy, it is com-

43
parable, emotionally, with the authentic blues of the Negroes of the
southern United States. Of all flamenco, it is the most difficult to
understand and the most difficult to interpret properly. Those who
master this deep-rooted base of flamenco (and its masters are few) are
the true maestros, deeply respected within the world of artists and
aficionados of integrity and real understanding. These maestros appeal
to a small, select following, and rarely achieve the monetary success of
the popular flamenos, or even that of the good intermediate or light
flamencos. Nevertheless, the jondo artists are the nobility m the world
of flamenco.
The fact of being a virtuoso in his field, be it song, dance or the
guitar, does by no means qualify an artist for this category. The true
flamenco grande artist may, or may not, have an outstanding technique,
but it is imperative that he possess the abilities of identifying himself
with the duende that he is unfolding, and, of equal importance, of being
able to transmit this emotion, .or series of emotions, to his audience. It
cannot be overemphasized that flamenco, above all, the jondo flamen-
co, is basically an emotional art, and that the artist needs only enough
technique to enable him to transmit his emotions to himself and to his
public. The improving of technique to the point of virtuosity is not
usually synonomous with the improvement of the artist’s ability to com-
municate. Conversely, the opposite is more often true. The virtuoso
often becomes a cold machine, too concerned with his technique, too
complicated, too entangled in his own virtuosity, too conscious of the
fact that the public is awaiting this virtuosity more than any duende
he may impart. He, in fact, overacts.
Many exponents of flamenco insist that only the Spanish gypsies,
and a few exceptional Spanish non-gypsies, possess the inherent tem-
peramental qualities necessary in the true flamenco. This argument is
true only to the extent that the aspiring flamenco must have an ex-
tremely sensitive and receptive nature. Armed with this quality, he
must sally forth, firstly to attain a reasonable technical proficiency,
and secondly in search of the elusive duende, for without the duende
flamenco is often vulgar and dull, and always disappointing. The quest
for the duende is particularly difficult for those living outside of Spain,
as it can only be attained through long and constant association with
true flamenco in Spain itself, necessarily in Andalucia and perhaps
Madrid. This statement is sustained by the many inconsolable examples
that I have witnessed of recent arrivals to Spain who attempt to dazzle

44
the local flamencos with a sharp technique gained through years of
arduous lessons, practice; material pilfering from records and tapes,
etc., and who are almost invariably dismissed with a shrug and a ’’xo
dice nd’’ ’’he says nothing’. What these students have to realize is
that they have taken only the first step. The second, the search for the
duende, is more difficult, and yet a delightful and adventurous under-
taking, for the search will bring one into contact with emotional, vibrant
people who are living an alluring philosophy; a philosophy difficult to
understand by those outside of it, and impossible to absorb if not in
constant contact with it.
Flamenco intermedio consists of a set of cantes that tend towards
the flamenco grande. Some authorities of flamenco already consider this
category as grande — others believe that it will arrive to this privileged
level in due time. The main difference between the grande and the inter-
mediate flamenco is that the grande is the true foundation of flamenco,
the root from which all the rest of flamenco stems, while the intermediate
is a less pure offspring, not as difficult to perform properly, and not as
profoundly moving. ,
Flamenco chico, in comparison with the jondo, will usually have
the opposite impact on the spectator. It is a multitude of things; gay,
vivacious, frivolous, sensuous, tender, amorous, poetic, fleetingly sad;
and very charming when done well. Regrettably it is not usually done
well, due to a mistaken belief by artists and onlookers alike that great
quantities of noise, shouting, stamping, and frenzied movements are
the framework of Gaiety. Obviously (or perhaps not so obviously), it
is not necessary to sacrifice dignity in order to be gay. Of course, the
artists and the non-aficionado public (even in Andalucia a large majority
of Spaniards cannot distinguish good flamenco from bad) have become
ensnared im a vicious circle. The artists give the public what they believe
the public wants, and the public wants what they are accustomed to.
Nevertheless, of the three categories that we have discussed, you are
much more likely to see good chico than good jondo or intermediate
flamenco.
Popular flamenco is that conglomeration of colorful garbage that
has managed, in the brief span since the Café Cantante period, to
gnaw at the platform of pure flamenco, causing its decadence and near
collapse. It is a base commercialization of all forms of flamenco. It
knows no taboos or untouchable gods. In the course of one theatrical
’’*flamenco’’ show you may squirm through the debasement of all types

45
of pure flamenco (grande, intermedio, chico), as well as the flamenco-
ization of Spanish and Spanish-American regional music, North Amer-
ican and Irench popular and folk songs, and so forth. This popular
malady is the ’’rock and roll’’ of Spain, aimed at the immatured,
uneducated public, rocking them away from any music of worth or
beauty.
It can safely be said that a large portion of the organized ’’tourist’’
flamenco that is offered in and out of Spain.will belong, sadly enough,
in this category. This includes the major part of the flamenco offererd
in theatres, night clubs, caves, and other commercial establishments.
The appendices at the end of the book concerning commercial flamenco
establishments and private juergas will inform the reader of the most
likely possibilities for encountering good flamenco.

Improvisation and Compas

As in American jazz, improvisation plays an important role in

flamenco. An experienced artist, matured and imaginative, will impro-
vise at will. The late Ramén Montoya, when he was teaching the guitar
in Paris, rarely remembered the improvisations he had taught in the
preceding class, much to the annoyance of his pupils.
Each of the cantes and toques of flamenco has become adapted to
a certain basic set of guitar chord structures. Within these structures,
and the compds (if the cante or toque is rhythmical), improvisation is
encouraged. Occasionally an artist will innovate new elements or a new
style within a traditional cante, baile, or toque, which innovation, if
deserving, may be informally associated with its creator (Malaguenas
del Mellizo/1oth Century singer), or with his region (Soleares de Alca-
la/town near Sevilla).
The beginner should become extremely well-versed in all aspects of
flamenco before attempting to improvise, or the chances are that he
will come up with non-flamenco improvisations that mean nothing.
Many artists never reach the degree of excellence which permits them
to improvise freely and well within the bounds of flamenco, even after
a lifetime as a flamenco.
Of equal importance and difficulty in the art of flamenco is the
keeping of the compds. Rhythmically, flamenco is divided into those

40
cantes and toques (1) having a set compds (rhythm), all of which are
danceable, and (2) those of a free, undetermined compas, which are
not danced due, of course, to the lack of a danceable compds. There is
very little abstract dancing in flamenco, although it may be occasionally
attempted.
The beginner will notice that many of the cantes, bailes, and to-
ques seem to have the same, or a very similar, compds. In reality this
is true; the basic compds of several cantes, for example, may be iden-
tical, but the accentuations, inflections, and moods of the compds vary
considerably. The artist of many years experience will often not recall
that the compds is the same in two cantes (bailes, toques), as he has
such a well-defined notion of the above-mentioned differences between
the two that to him they are entirely dissimilar. In time all aficionados
arrive to this desired state. Until then, the compds is a confusing busi-
ness.

47
 THE SONG

The Cante (Song) holds the select position in flamenco. It is the

preferred mode of expression (as opposed to the dance and the guitar)
of nearly all Spanish aficionados. I emphasize ’’Spanish’’ aficionados
as this is not true of non-Spaniards, who will generally prefer the guitar
and dance to the singing due to the unfamiliar, oriental style which
characterizes the Cante, and to their lack of understanding of the verses.
It is too drastic a change for the Western foreigner steeped in the vocal
styles of his country, and he has to become accustomed to the Cante by
degrees. To achieve a complete appreciation of the Cante flamenco,
one must develop a taste for it, slowly learning to savour its flavour and
grandeur like the novice introduced to good wines and brandies. More
important than the understanding of what is being sung is the appre-
ciation of how it is being sung; in good or bad taste, with a well or
badly-guarded compds, with authenticity, with duende, with purity...
The basic breakdown for the Cante is as follows:
cante grande or jondo (hondo)
cante intermedio
cante chico
The cante grande (jondo) is the original expression of flamenco.
It is the pure cante, the trunk from which all other cantes branch. In its
oldest form it was derived from ancient religious chants and songs,
which later developed into a more generalized lament of life.
It is said that only a gypsy or a person of oriental descent has
the special something in his throat to enable him to emit the proper
sounds for the jondo; that is, the possession of a voice ’’afilld’’ (1).
Such a voice is generally considered a most desirable and even necessary
quality, and can greatly assist the singer to express the wild, primitive

(1) The term ’’afilld’’ was derived from Diego el Fillo, a singer of the
early last century, who is said to have had the perfect jondo voice, which had
a rough, coarse quality, and could be cracked, or split, at will. This quality is
also referred to as ’’eco gitano’’ and ’’rajo’’ (raucous).

43
cry that is the cante jondo. Excepting a few singers who have the
remarkable capabilities to express the jondo without a voice afilld, the
singers of true greatness possess this attribute.
The cante grande (jondo) includes by far the most difficult group
of cantes to interpret. It has to be dominated by the full use of the
lungs and throat, and it demands great emotion and effort. When sung
properly, it has the power to sweep the aficionado on its melancholy
course. When sung badly, it is pitiful and often grotesque. Realizing
this, the singer of integrity who is not of the grande caliber will wisely
refuse to sing cantes of this category.
The cante intermedto is less intense and more ornamental than the
cante grande, although still very moving and difficult to interpret. It
can be said that the cante intermedio is as profound and difficult as its
interpreter. Many of the cantes categorized as intermedio are charac-
terized by certain strange dischords and rare oriental melodies, such as
can be observed in the Tarantas, Cartageneras, Mineras, and the Mur-
ctanas. Its cantes are mostly without compds, which is to say that they
are sung with a freedom unimpeded by a set rhythm (and are therefore
not danceable).
Nearly all of the cantes intermedios were conceived from the Fan-
dangos Grandes. Some have been created by toiling miners, others by
mountaineers, farmers, fishermen. They are probably the most vocally
beautiful cantes of flamenco, although not as profound as the cantes
grandes.
The cantes chicos are both technically and emotionally the least
difficult cantes to interpret. Consequently there are many more chico
singers than singers of the other categories. This does not mean to say
that the cantes chicos are by any means easy to sing; all well-sung fla-
menco is difficult. Of this group, the most difficult cantes are the Ale-
arias, Bulerias, Mirabrds, Romeras, Verdtales, and the Caracoles.
The cantes chicos are characterized by an emphasis on the rhythm,
and on their optimistic outlook. Their verses deal poetically with love,
women, animals, and Andalucia and its people. There are country can-
tes, mountain cantes, inland cantes and sea cantes from the southern
Mediterranean coast, all characterized by one power; the ability to re-
stimulate one’s faith in mankind, life, and faith itself.

49
 The Cante is composed basically of the following vocal types and
manners of delivery:
cante gitano
cante con rajo
cante bien
cante bonito

Any individual cante can be delivered by either or all of these ways

of singing, although particular singers will have a voice and style that
will almost invariably fit into only one of these categories. There are
very fine differences between these styles.
The cante gitano and the cante con rajo are much the same. They
both demand a voice afilld. The cante gitano is exclusive of the gypsies,
and is denoted by the gypsy style of delivery and expression (charged
with emotion, extreme and very strong, emphasized by the power and
versatility of a voice afilld), while the cante con rajo is sung by unique
non-gypsies who are blessed with a voice aftlld.
The cante bien category contains those who are considered great
jondo singers without having the voice afilld. This small grouping,
usually made up of non-gypsies, has such qualities of style, compds and
expression that it can successfully compete with, and at rare times excel,
the cante gitano. The two most famous exponents of the cante bien
have been Antonio Chacén and Silverio Franconetti. Its present out-
standing interpreter is Aurelio Sellés.
The style depreciatively called cante bomto (pretty song) is that
conglomeration of bad taste that falls under the already-mentioned
’*popular flamenco’ category. This type of cante is characterized by
the following:
(xt) a lack of seriousness in its interpreters.
(2) art succumbing to the desire for money and mass recognition.
(3) the lack of true genius and originality in its interpreters.
(4) irresponsibility.
(5) the tendency to mix different styles of a particular canée,
or different castes themselves, capriciously, in an effort to achieve
originality, or to display virtuosity or knowledge.
Since the mixing of different styles of a particular cante, or dif-
ferent cantes themselves, is so often confused with originality, not only
by the public, but even by the performers, some clarification of this
point seems necessary.

30
 Over the years each cante has been subjected to the extremely
strong personalities of the truly ingenious and inventive interpreters.
These exceptional cantaores have left the stamp of their genius on their
favorite cantes, which is distinguishable to the truly knowledgeable
afictonado. Also, certain regions within Andalucia may develop a
**school’’, which will sing a particular cante with a peculiar flavour. This
development of a cante leads to various styles within that cante. Let us
select one cante, the Soleares, as an example. There are countless styles
within the Soleares, each with its singular personality and emotional
quality. There is the Soleares de Alcaldé, which was created by the late
Joaquin el de la Paula, and which has become a ’’school’’ under the
guidance of Manolito de Maria and Juan Talegas. There are also
**schools’’ (types) of Soleares from Utrera, Triana, Jerez, and other
regions or towns. There are the perfectly recognizable Soleares of vari-
ous singers, such as Tomas Pavén, Merced la Serneta, el Loco Mateo,
Silverio, Enrique el Mellizo, and so forth.
It is considered inappropriate to intermix these various styles
during the interpretation of a particular cante, as this invariably entails
the clashing of personalities and drives which will destroy the continuity
and the emotional intensity of the cante. Only the few maestros of the
cante grande are able to achieve these transitions between styles without
a loss of continuity, and fewer still have the power to intensify the
emotion with their personal creativity. I stress ’’creativity’’, as the true
cantaor is not a mere imitator, but a creator. An imitator, no matter
how well he performs, falls short of the full scope of possibilities
inherent in flamenco. As in all of the arts, the maestro is not the parrot
of others, but is he who can create and innovate without destroying
the intrinsic beauty, power, and form of the art.
The mixing of more than one cante is an even graver sin in the
minds of the purists, excepting some endings of cantes which we shall
discuss later in the chapter. It is felt that a mixture of styles within a
cante could be done through ignorance, but that a cantaor could not
mistakenly confuse two cantes. A well-known ’’mixer of cantes’’ is Pepe
Marchena ’’Nifio de Marchena’’. One of his famous mixtures begins
with the Soleares, continues with the Bulerias and the Cafas, and ends
with the Fandangos. This is ridiculous to the aficionado, a classical
example of saying nothing as, of course, he never approaches the
essence of any of these cantes. This type of misusage is being increas-
ingly practiced today in all of flamenco’s forms.

31
 The cante bonito is the style that is preferred by a majority of
non-afictonados. Its interpreters are highly paid singers who often can
sing good flamenco but who find the cante bonito more lucrative.
Such practice has wooed the public away from the flamenco de verdad,
thus setting in motion the machinery which mass-produced the decadence
of flamenco.
The most notorious of the cante bonito singers are:

Pepe Marchena
Juanito Valderrama
Antonio Molina
Nina de Antequera
Nifia de la Puebla
Manolo Escobar
Angelillo
Enrique Montoya
Miguel de los Reyes
Rafael Farina

It should be mentioned that the considerable talent of at least

one of these singers, Pepe Marchena, is being regrettably prostituted,
as he is capable of singing excellent flamenco.
Oftentimes *’areas’’ are brought into the Cante flamenco picture.
Basically three areas of Andalucia have been the hotbeds of flamenco,
and have developed traditional cantes, and styles of delivery, of their
own. During flamenco’s Golden Age of the last century these areas
were seething with flamenco artists, and usually the artist would perform
only the styles traditional to his area. Performance-wise this is much
less true today. Geographically these areas have more or less grown
together as the world has grown smaller, and presently the well-rounded
cantaor is expected to know all of flamenco’s styles and cantes. How-
ever, the traditional cantes and styles that developed in each of these
areas are still strongly associated with their original area. These areas
are:
Los Puertos (from Cddiz along the coast to Puerto Real and
Puerto Santa Maria)
Jerez de la Frontera (including surrounding towns such as
Arcos de la Frontera)
Triana, (a neighborhood of Sevilla)

92
 ‘The cantes of Los Puertos area (Alegrias, Tientos Canasteros,
Cantiias, Mirabrds, etc) are characterized by a relative ease of delivery,
comparatively speaking. Those of Jerez (Bulerias, Siguiriyas de Jerez,
Soleé de Jerez, etc.) are much more difficult to interpret, while the
most difficult cantes to sing well are the versions and styles of Triana
(Soled de Triana, Siguiriyas de Triana, Martinetes, Fandangos Triane-
ros, etc:). The Triana cantes are always of a serious nature, and are
sung properly only by exceptional cantaores.
Another important distinction is made between singers who sing
with the ’’voz naturd’’ (natural voice), and those who utilize unnatural
vocal tricks, shout, or strain their voices excessively. This is one of the
principal ways of telling a good from a popular singer. The pure Cante
should be sung with a natural voice, which is less flashy and much more
difficult, and the only way to arrive directly to the essence of the Cante.
This is especially true in the cante jondo.
All of the breakdowns that we have studied so far may seem
extremely confusing. Actually they are not. For instance: Juan Talegas,
a cante gitano singer, sings the Siguiriyas, a cante grande, in the ’’style
of Triana’ (1) with a natural voice; La Fernanda de Utrera, a cante
gitano singer, sings the Bulerias, a cante chico, in the ’’style of Je-
rez’’ (1) with a natural voice; Antonio Molina, a cante bonito singer,
sings the Malaguefias, a cante intermedio, in a popular style with a
voice anything but natural; lastly, Aurelio Sellés, a cante bien singer,
sings the Alegrias, a cante chico, with a natural voice in the ’’style of
Los Puertos’”. _
_ To burrow further into the core of the Cante, we can break each
individual cante down into its component parts. A cante could contain
all of the following tercios (sections), although each singer will prefer,
and stress, particular ones, perhaps using one tercio more than once,
while ignoring another. Generally speaking however, any particular
cante will include the following components, in this order:
(1) Temple — warming up to the rhythm by modulations of
the voice, without the use of words (often repeating ’’ay’’).
(2) Planteo o tercio de entrada — the entrance or introduction to
the cante.
(3) Tercio grande — the heart of the cante.

(1) These are examples. These cantaores also sing these cantes in their
various other styles. .

93
 (4) Tercio de alivio — relieving, or easing up, on the emotional
substance of the tercio grande.
(5) Tercio valiente o peleén — the personal touch of the singer,
his ’’flight of fancy’’.
(6) Cambio o remate — the cambio is the closing of a cante by
means of a specific variation to the theme, while still utilizing the
substance of the same basic cante. For instance, utilizing another style
of the same cante. The remates are the closing of a cante by switching
to another very similar cante. They are very often abused, usually by
the absurdity of rematando a slow, melancholy cante with a faster, gay
one, spoiling unnecessarily the effect of the original cante.
_ The complete this rather technical discussion of the Cante I shall
briefly explain a few other terms and ideas that are an integral part
of the Cante, namely the machos, a palo seco, and the compds.
A macho is the singer’s individual seal, an original or perhaps
traditional passage with which he will usually close a particular cante.
More simply put, a macho consists of verses tacked on to the normal
ending of a cante. For example, the Siguiriyas has many machos, some
of the remembered being those of the cantaores Paco La Luz, Tom4s
el Nitri, Pedro Lacambra, and Silverio. These individual ’’trademarks’’
may be of the same, or of different, cante.
You may hear reference to a group of cantes referred to as a palo
seco. This group includes the Martinetes, Saetas, Carceleras, Deblas, and
Tonds, all rarely heard jondo cantes characterized by the lack of guitar
accompaniment.
These cantes a palo seco are excellently interpreted by Rafael Ro-
mero on a Westminster recording, the third of the Westminster Anthol-
ogy of Flamenco.
The compds or rhythm of a cante was kept by beating wooden
staffs, or canes, on the floor until as recently as 30 or 40 years ago. It
is said that these staffs date back to the days when they were used as
walking sticks, and, as guitars were scarce, they also served as a
rhythmical guide for the singer. These staffs became a tradition and
were used for hundreds of years, even when guitars were widely avail-
able, until their disappearance shortly after the decline of flamenco’s
Golden Age. Such staffs would still be a valuable asset in small towns
and villages, where there is a dearth of guitars, and few guitarists who
can keep a decent compds. In such localities the compds often suffers

34
so badly at the hands of the local aficionados that is sometimes difficult
to distinguish just what cante they are interpreting.
There are cantaores who will purposely stray from the compds
during certain passages of their interpretation in order to gain thé
liberty necessary for their self-expression. This is a very trickly practice,
and should be avoided unless it is an absolute indispensability in the
makeup of the artist, as most singers who vary the compds only accom-
plish the destruction of the mood and the authenticity of their interpre-
tation.

55
 THE DANCE

The dancer is the show stopper, the scene stealer of flamenco. The
popular public considers the dancer as the attraction, with the rest of
the cuadro serving as noisemaking satellites. Nearly all theatrical and
night club groups feature the dancers. They take the bows, coin the
money, swagger to fame, and are often the least flamenco of the group.
This is possible because the dance is the only component of flamenco
that the popular public can vaguely understand. Even if completely
ignorant of the art of flamenco, they can still appreciate the dancer’s
grace and sensuality, his (her) facial expressions, colorful dress, and
polished movements. To the popular public the singer is shouting some-
thing or other, the guitarist is doing God-knows-what, and consequently
all of their attention is riveted on the dancer.
Ironically, flamenco’s greatest deficiency is its lack of good dancers.
The number of bailaores that are capable of being profundly moving
can be counted on both hands, and many of them are non-professional
unknowns. This is not to say that there are not many dancers who are
thoroughly enjoyable, having many excellent qualities in their dance.
It is merely that there are few truly great flamencos (just as there are
few great personalities in any of the arts), and of the few that exist the
dancers are in a definite minority.
In modern times various misconceptions and trends have diluted
the Basle flamenco, including the over-emphasis on techniques, a lack
of instinct in the dancer enabling him to differentiate the good from the
vulgar, the introduction of castanets, and others that we shall discuss
in the following paragraphs.
Traditionally (and idealistically) there was a sharply-defined dif-
ference between the dances of the baslaor and batlaora. The male dancer
emphasized the footwork, a symbol of strength and virility, and the
female dancer the bastle de brazos (dance of the upper torso, literally
"dance of the arms’’), symbol of femininity and passion. In modern
times the dance tends towards bi-sexuality, as do many of its interpret-
crs.

36
 The batlaora seems to have lost her instinct of natural femininity.
Too often her arms and hands are stiff, her movements ungainly, her
angles, not her curves, pronounced. The footwork aggravates this
ungainliness, as the bailaora will show bony knees in awkward positions.
The all important techniques of moving the arms, hands, and shoulders,
and arching the back, in a flamenco way, seems known to only a few.
In place of these basic essentials the bailaora substitutes back-bending
acrobatics, frenzied, shapeless movements, unnatural facial expressions,
overly exaggerated body postures, and excessive tossing of her head,
hair, and dress.
The male dancer, on the other hand, has a better idea of how to
be masculine. He performs well his strong, intricate footwork, his body
is Tigid and straight, his fingers snap fire, he. tosses his head like a
stallion, his facial expressions are fierce... and yet, it usually just doesn’t
come, off. Most male Spanish dancers (and dancers in general) are quite
unmanly, and generally no amount of high caliber acting can alter the
fact. This condition is passable in the Spanish Ballet, but leaves much
to be desired in the Baile flamenco. .
These impressions are aggravated if you see much flamenco danc-
ing in theaters and night clubs, as many of the dancers who are hired
for such places are classical Spanish ballet dancers who also dance a
little flamenco. The expression ’’also dance flamenco’’ signifies that
they have studied the compds, footwork and mimicry, and have learned
a few flamenco dance arrangements, which. they perform night after
hight with unvarying loyalty. Many of these so-called flamenco dancers
have to stumble to a stop if they confuse their arrangement, or if the
guitarist happens to vary his accompaniment of the dance. Certainly a
study of, or a familiarization with, the dance techniques, together with
arrangements with which to practice these techniques, is necessary in the
Baile flamenco. But these techniques should become second nature, and
the dance arrangements digested and then forgotten; for these methods
are only the means to the end, not the end itself. The jondo dancer,
when he feels himself moved during the course of a juerga, has to
respond with the creation of his own flexible world, with a release of
stirred passions and emotions that are far beyond arrangements or
practical memories. The techniques help him achieve this end, the
arrangements help solidify the techniques, but his inner passion is the
motivating force. Lola Flores, who knows nothing of techniques or
arrangements, can dance the true batle jondo, when she is moved,

37
second to no one. She is consumed by intense passion, emotion, and
above all, duende. I have seen completely untrained gypsies and payos
who can cause the spark, que dicen algo, while many highly-trained
heroes of the Baile simply do not come through. La Chunga, when she
started, came out of the gypsy quarter of Barcelona with a dance as
natural as her beauty. She was bom with all of the meaningful ’’tech
niques’’. She literally didn’t know that dance arrangements existed, and
she was a constant source of duende.
It is extremely difficult to explain what does, or does not, make a
great flamenco dancer. As in all of flamenco, the duende is the prized
possession, followed by an instinctive compds and an underrated *’good
taste’’. Other than these essentials, there are not any clearly defined
techniques that have to be used. It is strictly up to the dancer to use
whatever techniques he wishes in whatever manner he wishes, within
certain broad limitations, as long as they help him to express what he
feels, whatever he is striving to communicate. Of course, only certain
types of movements and techniques are accepted as being flamenco in
nature. The knowledge of these movements and techniques is imherent,
or acquired through constant exposure to good dancing, or both.
Although it is impossible to state that a good flamenco dancer has
to do such and such at any given time, I can list the best qualities of,
and, inversely, practices avoided by, the outstanding flamenco dancers
that I have seen; the unconscious movements and techniques that make
their performances exceptional, that give them the certain '’something’’
that sets them apart. I shall divide this grouping into
(1) basle grande (and intermedio) — female
(2) bastle grande (and intermedio) — male
(3) basle chico — male or female
(4) mixed dancing
(1) Baile grande (and intermedio), female. The baile of the arms,
hands, shoulders, and fingers, the very essence of the feminine dance,
is the main attribute that can distinguish a great from a mediocre per-
former. The arms are raised and moved fluidly and slowly, naturally
curved without pointing elbows (with exceptions in certain arm posi-
tions), raised and lowered with the palms of the hands facing downwards
(the underside of the arm facing downward). Facing the palms down-
ward will, in turn, cause the shoulders to move properly, as the should-
ers are moved together with the arms to the extent desired by the dancer.

58
The hands move flexibly from the wrists in a circular motion in either
direction, also slowly and fluidly. The fingers are placed together (1),
or in exaggerated positions (mostly while posing), keeping in mind that
the middle and ring fingers have to be utilized, with the thumb, for
playing the pitos (finger-snapping). I repeat that in the baile grande the
atms, hands, and shoulders are moved slowly and with great gravity.
The carriageof the dancer is very important. The back is arched
backwards from the waist at an angle which should not exceed 45° and
will usually be less, with the head generally inclined a little forward
and to one side, eyes downcast. You will often see dancers do deep go°
backbends, which are nothing but acrobatics and are meaningless.
The facial expressions, if the dancer feels her dance, will naturally
be jondo. You may wonder at the spectacle of a dancer performing a
tragic jondo dance with a fixed smile pasted on her face. This signifies
only one thing: she has no idea.
Sex-appeal is certainly a motivating force in the female baile grande.
The hips are moved in a graceful, natural, sensuous manner, but always
bearing in mind that the flamenco dancer is not Rosie la Derriere,
bumping and grinding herself to a burlesque climax. This sounds face-
tious, but in actuality the burlesque routine is coming into vogue in
flamenco, a development of such bad taste (performed by baslaores and
bailaoras alike) that it cannot be attacked with enough vehemence. It is
done not by ’’bumping’’ so much as by ’’grinding’’, the circular motion
of the hips in a cheap, suggestive manner completely out of keeping
with the Baile flamenco. Even the great baslaor Faico has succumbed.
There is a nucleus, fortunately, of purists who will never resort to such
a practice, the most renowned of whom is Antonio, who has far too
much respect for the Baile, and for himself, to destroy his dances with
such absurdities.
In the baile grande the bailaora dances as stationarily as possible.
This will allow her to concentrate on the jondo elements of her dance,
and will better hold the public’s attention. Rapid turns and sudden

(1) There are two schools of thought in the way the fingers should be
moved. The modern Sevillanan school advocates the moving of all of the fingers
separately during a wrist-turn. Vicente Escudero, considered the greatest male
flamenco dancer of this century, is strongly opposed to the modern school. He
claims that the fingers should be placed and moved together during a wrist-
turn. This controversy sounds like a triviality, but actually it does affect the
performance. Most aficionados agree that the Escudero method is the most
jondo.

39
stops (minor climaxes), with a corresponding raising of the arms slowly
and intensely, can be very jondo.
The zapateado (footwork), used sparsely and with good taste, can
intensify the female dance. If overdone, as it often is, the viewer will
become bored and lose the trend of the dance. The zapateado (an intri-
cate interplay of heel and toe taps, utilizing both feet) is often over-
emphasized with the purpose of showing off technique, or of taking up
time in an uninspired dance.
The playing of the pttos is a complex and effective practice. By
snapping the middle and the ring fingers (rarely the little finger), against
the thumb of the right hand, combined with the thumb and the middle
finger of the left hand, a fascinating set of intricate rhythms and counter-
rhythms can be played. In addition, a ’’secret’’ technique that is not
often divulged to newcomers (unless they are astute enough to catch it)
is used, which is a clacking sound made by the tongue which sounds
very similar to finger-snapping. This same vocal technique is also used
in conjunction with the palmas, and helps explain why one expert play-
ing the pitos or the palmas can sound like an entire orchestra. The
playing of the pitos strongly and well is difficult, and very important in
both the female and the male dance.
The use of the castanets is an excellent way to destroy the jondo
effect of a dance. The castanets, if used at all, should be used in such
regional-flamenco dances as the Sevillanas and the Fandangos de Huel-
va, and perhaps in a few other light rhythms. They should never be
used in the baile grande, as they lend a distraction which is incongruous
with the jondo and, worse, they detract from. the hand and arm move-
ments, the very basis of the feminine dance. The most jondo of flamen-
co dances, the Siguiriyas, is being danced more and more with castanets,
a development which causes it to lose much of its potential meaning.
Another time-honored way of ruining a jondo dance is to swing
into a gay rhythm (usually the Bulerias) at the end of a baile grande.
This is done, strangely enough, so as not to leave the public with the
very effect that the dancer has attempted to build up throughout her
entire dance, and also as a proven way to draw more applause. It is
a non-sensical practice, and will cause the aficionado to moan with
disgust. Yet it is almost universally practiced, taught to beginners as
the way to dance, accepted by all but the artists and aficionados who
have the courage to rebel against the demands of an ignorant, insensitive
public.

60
 (2) Basle grande (and intermedio), Male. Only the bailaores who
are, or can simulate that they are, honest-to-goodness men can effective-
ly dance the baile grande. It is a dance of virility and arrogance, pas-
sion and suffering.
The scarcity of good, manly bailaores, I believe, is due to the fact
that the Batle demands ba:laores with a certain rare personality ; a man
who can exhibit his emotions and passions and body unconditionally,
and yet remain uneffeminate. Most manly bailaores dance coldly,
relying on their technique to transmit what they wish to communicate.
They are afraid, or unable, to reveal their inner passions, to let them-
selves go, because it is just not in their physiological makeup. Others, of
effeminate nature, have the ability to appear completely masculine when
they dance. It can be said that the outstanding male dancers of the
baile grande are of two types; those who are truly masculine and who
are able to ’’let themselves go’’, and those who are definitely effeminate,
but who possess the ability to transform themselves into machos (real
men) when they dance. Both types are rare, with a resultant lack of
truly moving male dancers. .
The bailaor carries his body straight, perhaps bending back slightly
at the waist. There is no pattern of movement, except that he moves
around as little as possible within the possibilities of the effect desired.
He is fluid, slightly exaggerated, developing his movements from slow
and intense to perhaps suddenly rapid, with an unexpected stop. His
footwork is strong, clear, pronounced, his arms and hands slightly curv-
ed, without the flexibility of the female arms. He does not move his
hands circularly as the bailaora, but rather guards the strong line of
the arm, his fingers straight except when playing the pitos. His pitos
are forceful, as they are a strong asset for the batlaor. The José Greco
type of acrobatics are kept to a minimum (sliding along the floor on the
knees, throwing himself down on his hip and thigh, spinning around on
the floor on one knee, jumping onto, and off of, tables, etc.), as should
the even less flamenco acrobatics of doing the splits, revolving on the
legs and one arm, and such, which can be seen all too frequently. In
short, we can say that the jondo dance of the great bailaor will contain
passion, dignity, force, and manliness, as well as the essentials duende,
tastefulness, and a superior compds.
(3) Baile chico, male or female. Here the same basic techniques
are used, as described in (1) and (2), but the stoppes are lifted. Gaiety
takes the place of melancholy, faces are illuminated, movements become

61
faster, festive palmas and pitos and the rhythms and counter-rhythms
of a driving guitar lead the dancers to a carefree exuberance. Increased
footwork, flashing colours, whirling stops, slow, sadness-tinged begin-
nings again led by the song, guitar and jaleo into uncontained gaiety.
The dances become lighter, more suggestive, humorous. Flowers fly
from whirling heads, dresses rise above blurred hips. Merriment is the
mood, Gaiety king, but... care has to be taken. Many chico dances are
spoiled by the dancer completely abandoning restraint and frenziedly
stomping about the floor in an ungraceful loss of dignity. Dignity is
basic. If it is lost, the dance is no longer flamenco.
(4) Mixed dancing. The themes of mixed dances are love, jealousy,
passion, difficulties interrupting or denying love, trio complications,
and such. The dancers will communicate their love or anger by their
zapateados, looks, and pitos, or by their castanets, if they use them.
You will notice that one dancer will tap out a zapateado, and the other
will answer. If they are ’’talking’’ and ’’answering’’ frequently and
loudly, the chances are they are arguing. In nearly all mixed dances
one of the dancers will make the other jealous by chasing after a third
dancer; or an imaginary partner. The usual ways of ending the mixed
dances are the man dominating the woman and dragging her off stage
by the hair, the woman doing the same to the man, the couple exiting
in a ’*happy-ever-after’’ embrace, or each dancer stomping furiously
off of opposite ends of the stage.
To be effective, the dancers have to throw thmselves into mixed
dancing wholeheartdly. If they are portraying love or hate, they should
momentarily love or hate, as it is obvious when one of the dancers is
off in a day-dream, or intensely dislikes his partner, or is vainly danc-
ing for himself. Mixed dancing is usually entertaining, interesting, and,
during the rare times when both dancers can escape themselves and
momentarily live their dance, very moving.

Many people are under the impression that each of the various
movements of flamenco has a specific meaning, and that in tum each
dance is conveying a particular story. For instance, one misconception
is that a dancer raising his arms (towards heaven) symbolizes praying,

62
and that this fits into a particular story that is susposedly being unfold-
ed. The truth is that the techniques and movements in flamenco are
not symbolic in themselves, and that in a solo dance no actual story
is being told. The dancer utilizes the techniques and movements of
his dance to help him to express his inner self, and whatever passions
or moods are affecting his inner self at the time he is dancing. For this
reason the guitarist and the singer are so necessary for the dancer, as
they set the mood, and incite the inner fire of the dancer so that he
must release these passions throught his dance. Consequently the same
movement or technique can denote tragedy or gaiety, love or hate,
depending on the manner in which it is done, and the mood of the
dance and dancer. Dancing is much like abstract painting ; two viewers
will be moved differently by the same dance, and the same viewer will
be moved differently by the same dance seen on separate occasions
(depending also on the mood of the viewer).
A story of sorts may be unfolded in a mixed dance, as we have
seen, but more than a story, the dancers are interpreting a variety of
moods and feelings that will be understood by the public. The story
itself will rarely become more complicated than boy meets girl, they
fall in love, girl flirts with another boy, original boy jealously beats on
second boy and triumphantly carries off the admiring Miss. The story
is secondary; primarily important are the emotions on which the story
is based.

All whom have seen commercial flamenco dancing will have mar-
velled at, and perhaps wondered about, the beautiful costumes worn.
The dancers are the remaining proponents of an historical style of
dress. that has unfortunately passed into antiquity, to be popularly used
only as street wear during Andalucian fair time. Less than a century
ago the full, colorful dresses with their vari-colored fringes and ruffles,
the large combs and mantillas, and the beautiful hand-embroidered
shawls were the manner of dress in all of Andalucia. The dresses were
of two types; one, with a very full skirt, reached to the ankles (in
modern times to just below the knees), and another, the ’’bata de cola’,
had (and has) a long, full train, like a peacock’s tail. In those days,

63
only the rich were contaminated by Paris's fickle fashions, and a style
of dress became traditional within each province in Spain. The traveler
could pass from Castilla to Valencia to Andalucia and seemingly be
visiting various countries, so distinctive were their language, customs,
and dress. Certainly the most beautifully and most colorfully dressed
were the Andaluces.
The gypsies adopted this Andalucian style of dress, and proceeded
to make their inevitable innovations by adding polka dots to the dresses,
and by developing a flairing skirt and a full-sleeved blouse, sometimes
tied at the waist. With a tenacity peculiar to the gypsies, they were the
last to succumb to the moder ’’universal’’ way of dressing (our traveler
could now pass from country to country and, as far as dress and customs
are concerned, feel that he had never left home), and even now it is
possible to encounter gypsies dressed in the traditional way. This way
of dressing is now associated more with gypsy than with Andalucian
women, and the dresses are consequently referred to as "’trajes de gi-
tana’.
The ranch men in Andalucia have better managed to maintain their
trajes cortos, boots, ruffled shirts, and broad-brimmed Cordobés hats.
The regal capes and Cordobés hats of the city man have disappeared
entirely excepting when worn by am occasional old man who no longer
cares if people stare and whisper.
As a means of sparkling up theatre and night club shows, the fla-
mencos, above all the dancers (singers and guitarists usually wear
modern dark suits), have carried on the tradition of this distinctive
Andalucian style of dress. There are a few highly-paid dress makers and
tailors who dedicate themselves to this art, and the best of them have
become nearly as renowned as the artists whom they fit. Those in Spain
are excellent and relatively low-priced (in comparison with other coun-
tries). In México City there are three good, medium-priced craftsmen.
In the United States there are also a few such craftsmen, notably in
New York, but the quantities of money asked are usually as spectacular
as the costumes.

Luisa Maravilla emphasizes beautifully the

most important assets of the feminine dance:
o the arms and hands.
Dolores de Cordoba, singer and dancer of great expression, in La Cueva of Torremolinos.
Seated at left: La Fernanda de Utrera, top female flamenco singer today.

The dancers el Fati (right) and Diego Pelao compete for the favours of the Rumba-ing
Maria Albaicin. The guitarist is Antonio Arenas.
f.a Chunguita, teen-age sister of La Chunga. Although she as yet lacks the certain something
that sets her sister apart, La Chunguita is certainly a great promise for the future.
An untrained gypsy who possesses the most important element of the flamenco dance: the
duende (feeling). His dance is strong and virile, perhaps moreso because of his lack of
intricate techniques.
Luisa Maravilla in a jondo attitude. She will soon enter the Spanish movies under her real
name, Blanca Luisa Bergasse.
Carmen Carrera dances an excellent Soleares made somewhat less effective by the use of
castanets, always a detriment to serious flamenco dancing.
(VI[{TAWIL]Y Usin-] jo spuvy)
“UOTZRIOAFexs YNoYIUMW JoPIeIeYD ‘99VIR ‘APIPINTE i spuey oul
 ‘selidaly ay} Jo teo1dA oie (vj0o9 ap vzvq) ssaIp pute
9PNN}Ae JOH “PUPeY ‘ejsaloy_ ef ap [eLOD oy} 7e UJoIeq(y eley_ 0} SUIS II [2 Joduls ayy
f.a Coreana, a truly comical interpreter of the Chuflas (see p. rit). Here, with her bag over
her arm, she tells of her experiences in a crowded streetcar.
El Farruco, flamenco’s most electrifying dancer. The singer is Manolo Mairena.
At Cordoba’s 1962 flamenco contest.
Dancing the Sevillanas (see p. 137) during the Feria de Sevilla.
 ‘pgaanl AsdAB eb
satuedu0zse Jog Ne sYL
"Ysoyuo. OJUOWIEL] Zalaf Z7g61 AY
JB MOYS 9Y} VOYs Ady} ‘sJayJOIg
‘seItospy jo (fr age) ooeg pure
(gi a8v ‘r98uts) dag ‘szs1q18 Surst
-woid 4sour S,odUeUIE[J JO OMT
‘OMY OCIO[Y St yse}INS oYT ‘aureu sity 02 dn Zutay zaraf jo (ayenby31eq) oyouras197
Using knuckles and fingers, the “Poet of the Hands” cracks out a curious Sigtiriyvas.
 In summing up, I shall have to admit that I have been extremely
critical of the dance, perhaps moreso than I intended. This may give
the impression that I prefer the guitar and the singing, and that I am
therefore partial. If such an impression is given, it is false. The dance
has always fastinated me. It I.am critical of it, it is because the flamen-
co dance is badly in need of constructive criticism. It is the element of
flamenco most easily channeled into a commercial vein, and when
prostituted (or when the dancer just doesn’t have the talent or the
desire) it stands out like a sore thumb. This is not just a personal
observation. All aficionados agree that it is a rare treat to see a truly
outstanding flamenco dancer. Nevertheless, as in the case of a good bull
fight, it is worth suffering through the usual mediocrity, as a jondo
dance done well is a truly memorable experience.
 THE GUITAR

Introduction

In order to talk of the flamenco guitar, certain preliminary expla-

nations of guitar terms and playing techniques are necessary. Included
in this list are the terms toque, falsetas, and compds, the right-hand
playing techniques rasgueado (rasgueo), pulgar, picado, arpegio, and
trémolo, and the left-hand playing techniques ligados and chording.
The term toque is usually incorrectly translated into English as ’’a
guitar piece or composition.’’ Actually it is neither — there are no guitar
’*pieces’’ in flamenco, and the word ’’composition’’ falls far short of
the true meaning of the word. The all-inclusive meaning of the word
Toque is ’’all flamenco played on the guitar.’’ The word toque, with a
small ’’t’’, refers to a particular segment of the all-inclusive Toque.
Examples: (a) the togue jondo is a sub-division of the overall Toque;
(b) the toque of the Soleares (all of which is played within the traditional
framework and basic compds of the Soleares) is a particular segment of
the all-inclusive Toque, and is included within the sub-division of the
toque jondo, These definitions also apply to the Cante (cante) and the
Baile (baile).
Falsetas are the melodic variations inserted into a toque that depart
from the basic techniques of rasgueados and strumming.
The most important element of playing good flamenco (other than
the duende), and the most basic, is the mastery of the compds. Without
the compds the guitarist is playing his own composition, perhaps fla-
menco in nature, but not true flamenco. Regardless of the proficiency
of his technique, a guitarist will be mentally dismissed from the minds
of aficionados if he loses the compds. Those who have a natural sense
of rhythm have no great problem; the compds will come with time and
experience, working its way into the sub-conscious so that it is perfect-
ly kept without effort or thought. Others, more unfortunate, have to
memorize the compds of each toque, and with great concentration at-
tempt to stay with it. Obviously the performance of these luckless gui-
tarists suffers with their inability to move freely within their toque.

5b
 As occurs in the Canie, the flamenco guitarist may sometimes pur-
posely stray from the compds in order to achieve an effect. This practice
is less justifiable in the Toque, as there is no need for such devices. It
does not enhance the self-expression of the guitarist ; to the contrary, it
loses the thread of the toque, damaging whatever duende the guitarist
may be conveying. The great guitarist Sabicas will often deter consider-
ably from the compas in his solo interpretations of the Siguiriyas. He
does this for the sake of virtuosity, not in the cause of emotional and
artistic improvement. Vulgarly put, he is sacrificing the mood and the
purity of the Siguiriyas in an attempt, usually successful, to ’’snow’’ the
public.
The most important right-hand flamenco guitar-playing techniques
are the vasgueado and the pulgay (thumb). The rasgueado consists of
running the fingers over the strings individually, but in a continuous
motion, producing a thunderous, rolling effect. The meaning of the term
is also generally extended to include the strumming (stroking) of the
strings by the fingers, propelled by crisp wrist movements. There are
various types of rasgueados, too intricate to explain individually, each
of which produces a distinct effect. The rasgueado is the basic playing
technique of flamenco, and one of the most difficult to perfect.
The thumb (pulgar) is the fastest finger of the hand, and when
developed properly, can achieve astonishing effects. It is used to strike
strings in sequence, achieving a series of individually struck notes which
can be interweaved with any number of ligados. It is often used in com-
bination with the index finger. I have known guitarists who employ
only the right-hand techniques of the pulgar and the rasgueados, and
who play outstanding jondo flamenco.
The other techniques of the right hand, the picado, arpegio, and
trémolo, play an extremely important part in modern concert flamenco.
The picado is the alternate striking of a string by the index and middle
fingers, or, less commonly, by the middle and ring fingers or the index
and ring fingers. When developed well the picado can be lightening fast.
Arpegios consist of the thumb striking a bass string, with two, or three,
fingers alternately striking different treble strings. There are various
types of two and three finger arpegios which can be classed as forward,
reverse, circular, and combinations. The last and least important play-
ing technique is the ‘vémolo. There are three, four, and five-sound #ré-
molos, all of which entail the striking of a bass string by the thumb,
and a particular treble string, usually the first, by two, three, or four
fingers, alternately. The three-sound tvémolo is usually played in this
order: thumb, index, and middle fingers; the four-sound: thumb, ring,
middle, and index fingers; and the five-sound: thumb, index, ring,
middle, and index again. The five-sound trémolo is the most commonly
used in flamenco, while the four and the three-sound trémolos are more
widely used in classical playing.
Left hand techniques consist of igados and chording. A kgado is
the technique of pulling a finger down and off of a string, causing it to
sound. This technique can be employed by all of the fingers of the left
hand, except the thumb, causing a rapid, slurring effect. When well-
developed, entire sections of a toque can be played by ligados without
so much as touching the guitar with the right hand. Of course, utilizing
ligados to such an extent is merely showmanship. The hgado is an im-
portant, basic technique, and should be well-developed by all flamenco
guitarists,
**Chording’’ means the assuming of different chord and single string
postures by the left hand, and is one of the four (rasgueados, thumb,
ligados) most important playing techniques of the flamenco guiter.

The Guttar

The guitarist is the unsung hero of flamencc. With a few notable

exceptions, the guitarist is the least paid and the least acclaimed of fla-
menco’s interpreters ; an unjust condition, as the guitarist is flamenco’s
hardest worker. He works much harder to learn his art than the dancer
or singer, as he not only has to master his instrument, but as an ac-
companist he has to throughly familiarize himself with all elements of
the Cante and the Baile. The development of the classical style of fla-
menco guitar playing obligates the guitarist to spend hours every day
for uninterrupted years in mastery of present day techniques. As a
flamenco concert guitarist of high caliber he has to devote himself to
his art as much as a Segovia or a Paderewski, with an additional task
— the great flamenco guitarist is not merely an interpreter of composi-
tions, but is himself a spontaneous composer. His material comes from
within. If he does not possess an inventive genius and a sense of spon-
taneity, combined with deep-rooted senses of compds and the ommi-

68
present duende, he is not top flight. On top of this he lives with a con-
stant fear of injuring his hands, arms, or fingers. Merely straining a
finger tendon will interrupt and possibly end his career as a concert
guitarist.
In the not distant past the flamenco guitar was basically an ac-
companying instrument. The guitarist that accompanied well was not
expected to be a technician; in fact, the concept of modern day techni-
ques was not even dreamed of. The guitarist of the past concentrated
on the rhythm and the accompaniment, utilizing almost exclusively the
basic right-hand techniques of vasgueado, thumb, and simple picado.
The left hand assumed only the basic chords of the particular toque,
combined with many ligados.
Then a young boy, who began his guitar career as the accompanist
of the great singer Antonio Chacén during the Café Cantante period of
the last century, revolutionized to the core the techniques of the flamen-
co guitar. This boy, Ramén Montoya, was endowed with a creative
genius which is unexcelled in the known history of flamenco. Don Ra-
mon greatly admired the classical guitar style, and was strongly influenc-
ed by the famous composers and classical guitarists Tarrega and Llobet.
He consequently adapted certain techniques of the classical guitar to
the flamenco guitar, namely the ¢vémolo, the arpegio, an increased
emphasis on the picado, and a stronger and more difficult left hand (1).
He also contributed, during his 60-odd-years as a professional guitarist,
a wealth of material, styles and fogues that have become integrated into
flamenco, Every living flamenco guitarist has been strongly influenced,
directly or indirectly, by the genius of Ramén Montoya. He died in
1955, the undisputed maestro of the flamenco guitar.
Now to pose the inevitable question. Did the integration of classical
techniques into flamenco actually improve the art of the flamenco
guitar? |
If the ’’art of the flamenco guitar’’ is construed to mean the com-
plementing of the singing and dancing by the guitar, with the objective
of molding all of flamenco into one emotional entity, the answer is that
the integration of these classical techniques probably did more harm
than good. The decorative tvémolos actually detract from the toque
jondo. The toques of this group are of down-to-earth, emotional stuff,

(1) Before Montoya, a guitarist called Paco Lucena is credited with

certain innovations of classical techniques. These were also absorbed and ex-
panded by Montoya.

69
and are not suited for flowery nothings. The arpegsos and picados, al-
though more flamenco, should also be used sparingly and with good
taste in this category. The danger lies not in the existence of these
techniques, but in the fact that few guitarists have the integrity and/or
the instinct to use these devices properly. Contrastingly, a good picado
and arpegio fit extremely well into the makeup of the toque chico, add-
ing an element of diversity and excitement previously lacking.
On the other hand, if we consider the ’’art of the flamenco guitar’
to mean concert flamenco that can stand alone on a concert stage or on
a long play record, the classical techniques were a definite necessity.
Concert flamenco needs all of the siindry tricks and techniques that
have been, and may be, developed, since what it lacks in duende and
authenticity has to be made up for in virtuosity. It is progressive jazz
as opposed to the authentic blues; virtuosity and effects on one side,
emotion and depth on the other.
One danger in this virtuoso trend lies in the fact that the present
day concert flamenco guitar has not only borrowed classical techniques,
but is becoming increasingly classical in nature. A major reason for this
is that the virtuoso, in order to develop the classical techniques, will
utilize classical guitar exercises and most probably learn several clas-
sical compositions, which have a way of creeping into his flamenco.
Close scrutiny of various long-play flamenco guitar records will reveal
Many passages taken from Spanish and European classical composers,
as well as from the folklore of various countries. The interpretations of
these classical flamencos are consequently becoming more and more
abstract, the compds increasingly blurry. (A similar trend is taking
place in jazz, as the progressive school grazes further and further into
classical pastures).
This classical tendency may be arrested somewhat by the renewed
interest in the pure, traditional flamenco, which will cause a re-realiza-
tion of the importance of the unadorned jondo guitar.

History, The guitar was originally an accompanying instrument. It

is of oriental derivation, thought to be a descendent of the kithara
(Greek for zither), and ancient stringed instrument. It is fairly certain
that is was introduced to Europe, by way of Spain, by the famous
Arabian singer and musician Ziryab in the IX century A. D. Ziryab
was called to Cérdoba by the reigning Califa (Arabian ruler) to teach
the court musicians songs and their accompaniments on a four-stringed
guitar-type instrument. In time one string, and then another, were added
to Ziryab’s guitar, and the present day guitar came into being. Through
the compositions and virtuosity of the classisists Tarrega and Andrés Se-
govia, and the flamencos Ramén Montoya, Sabicas, and others, the
guitar ‘has only recently merited consideration as an art form.

The Guitar. The guitar plays an extraordinary role in the life of a

dedicated guitarist. An outstanding guitar can immeasurably improve a
guitarist’s playing, his outlook on life and flamenco, and, to say the
least, will give him great pleasure. A guitarist has only to open his case
and smell the sweet dry-wood odor of an old guitar to feel a certain
luxurious enjoyment. As he strokes the deep strings of a quarter-of-a-
century old guitar, the sonorous, age-mellowed sound will give a thrill,
a jondo sensation, a desire to play and to play well.
A superior guitar becomes the guitarist’s passion, to be protected
at all costs. It becomes a part of him, something that he can part with
only with great effort and sorrow. In many cases, such a guitar will
even become a status symbol, elevating just another guitarist to the level
of a celebrity. There is just such a celebrated guitar in Malaga, owned
by a wonderful old man called Pepe el Calderero. As a guitarist he is
moving, and an excellent accompanist, but technically (the modern
basis for judgement) mediocre. Nevertheless, among aficionados all
over Spain he is the famous owner ’’de esa Santos tan magnifica’ "’of
that Santos (name of the guitar-maker) so magnificent’’. He is conti-
nually tempted by fat purchase offers for his Santos, which have reach-
ed the phenominal figure (for Spain) of $700. This is the equivalent of
$1600 or $1700 in America. When I asked Pepe if he would ever sell,
he replied:
**éCono, pa qué? What for? Without my guitar I’d be just another
old broken-down guitarist. I would spend the money, and then what?
Nt ms Santos, ni. el dinero, ni nd. No Santos, no money, nothing”’.

71
 Accompaniment. Sound accompaniment is of basic importance to
the flamenco guitarist, and constitutes an art in itself. The outstanding
accompanist has to know all of the castes and bailes almost well enough
tu sing or dance them himself, and he must also be blessed with an
instinct which permits him to anticipate the next move of the singer or
dancer. He has to be able to follow the caprices of these performers,
know when to stop, when to insert falsetas, how to blend himself with
their moods, how to carry the singer or dancer to his climax... for the
good accompanist definitely improves the performance of the other
performers.
For instance, the performance of a cantaor can be greatly improved
if the guitarist is aware of, and observes, the following unwritten rules:
if the singer is particularly inspired, the accompanist should play short
falsetas so as not to break the singer’s mood. On the other hand, if the
singer seems listless or undecided, the guitarist should launch into a
long falseta, or series of falsetas, in order to give the singer time to
regroup. The accompanist has to also take note of the condition of the
singer's voice. If it seems weak or unusually hoarse, the low or high
notes of the cante may be difficult for the singer to execute, in
which case the guitarist comes on strong in an attempt to partially
drown out the voice. If the voice is strong and healthy, the guitarist
should stay well in the background except when playing solo ‘falsetas.
Diego del Gastor, an outstanding guitarist to whom you have been
introduced in an earlier juerga, contributed immeasurably to the excel-
lence of the singers and dancers of that juerga, although only the per-
formers and a few others recognized this. When he accompanies he is
a joy to watch. He loses all track of his whereabouts and all semblance
of self-consciousness as he seemingly becomes one with the singer. He
instinctively knows how long the singer will hold a note, when he will
suddenly pause, and exactly the type and length of falseta to insert to
capture, and enhance, the mood. When the singer accomplishes a
particularly difficult tercio well, Diego beams with pleasure, as if he had
sung it himself, and is inspired to more intensified playing.
Many modern flamenco guitarists dislike accompanying, as they
feel that it is an unrecognized art. On the surface this seems true, but
among informed aficionados the outstanding accompanist is the recogniz-
ed (if hungry) maestro. Manolo de Huelva, long considered among
aficionados and the artists themselves the world’s greatest flamenco

72
guitarist, is primarily a master of the accompaniment of the Cante. The
same was true of the great Ramon Montoya.

Pecultarities of Flamenco Guitar Playing. There are two practices

that immediately distinguish a flamenco from a classical guitarist; the
way of holding the guitar, and the use of the capo (cejilla).
The flamenco guitarist rests the guitar, rather awkwardly, on his
right thigh. This is a very proud, but impractical, posture, as it neces-
sitates his holding his wrist at a sharp angle to the right in order to
assume the classical right-hand position which is necessary if the
guitarist wishes to play the modern classical techniques properly. This
disadvantage is particularly pronounced in the long-armed guitarist,
and causes undue wrist and arm tension and could possibly cause tendon
injury. This way of holding the guitar also makes it very difficult to
see the fingerboard, and the beginning guitarist will have ample cause
for cursing before he is able to play without looking.
The flamenco way of holding the guitar was perfectly acceptable
in the old days, before the classical techniques were introduced to the
flamenco guitar. Present day guitarists, unwilling to give up this fla-
menco tradition (but only too willing to give up others), will grudgingly
admit that the mentioned difficulties exist, but they will often claim that
they are justifiable because of the improved sound of the guitar when
held in the flamenco position. To the contrary, holding the guitar in
the flamenco position causes the back of the guitar to rest against, or
very near, the chest of the guitarist, which has a tendency to deaden
the sound. To arrest this muffling of the sound many flamenco guitar-
ists will rest their guitars well out toward the knee, which causes them
to arch over the guitar and leaves considerable distance between the
guitarist’s chest and the guitar. This corrects the muffling tendency,
but in turn causes an even more unnatural position. The flamenco
position also causes certain balancing difficulties, as the guitar has to
be held solely between the right thigh and the right upper arm, with
no support from the left hand, which has to be left completely free to
roam the fingerboard. The flamenco guitarist will undergo long months
and years of a slipping, sliding guitar and an impeded right arm circula-
tion before this technique is mastered, Of course, the guitarist who has

73
held the guitar in this way for many years eventually considers it a
perfectly comfortable position. It is the beginner who suffers.
The classical way of holding the guitar, on the other hand, is
both practical and comfortable. The left foot is rested on a foot stand,
and the guitar rests snugly between the legs, the elevated left leg
against the indented part of the guitar, the right leg supporting the
bottom. The guitar is completely secure in this position, and both
hands are left free for playing. This also facilitates a view of the finger-
board, natural positions for the arms and hands, and no sound-muffling
problem, as the guitar is held away from the body.
Regardless of the impracticality of the flamenco guitar-holding
position, it is the first test a guitarist must pass in order to be consider-
ed a true flamenco. The flamencos are proud of the very difficulty of
this posture; if it is impractical, it cannot be helped — it is flamenco!
The capo (cejilla) is used to raise or lower the tuning of the guitar
without having to actually re-tune each string. By placing the capo
across the neck by the second fret, for instance, the neck is in effect
shortened by these two frets, and the tuning of all of the strings is
raised correspondingly. This was originally practiced to facilitate the
accompaniment of singers, as the guitar has to be repitched for each
cante that is sung, in compliance with the singer’s vocal range. Now
it has become widely practiced to use the capo even when playing solos,
due to the increased brilliance of sound achieved by raising the pitch.
It is thought to sound more ’’flamenco’’ when the capo is used, which
to a certain extent may be true. But beyond the second or third fret is
exaggeration. A rule of thumb could be: the less jondo the toque, - the
higher the guitar can be effectively capoed.

Physical Precautions of the Guitarist. The care of the arms, hands,

fingers, and even the fingernails is of utmost importance to the flamenco
guitarist. The injuring of the tendon which affects the ring and the
little fingers of the right hand is a common, and often incurable,
misfortune. It may be injured, while playing the guitar, by holding the
right hand in a tense, or bad, position, or by playing too many violent
vasgueados. Apart from the guitar, this tendon could be damaged by
excessive lifting, pulling, or a strong blow. Such an injury will make

74
it impossible to utilize the t7émolo and most arpegios, as I can disclose
from my own experience. Over two years ago I injured this particular
tendon while playing in a cuadro flamenco in a San Francisco night
club, due to playing excessively strong rasgweados while accompanying.
I have tried several cures, including the whirlpool and sound waves,
to no avail, It has hampered my use of the ring and little fingers, and
I have consequently had to give up all trémolos and most arpegios.
This has caused me little consternation, however, as the ’’earthy’’ fla-
menco can be played without these techniques. The well-known guitar-
ist Perico el del Lunar has suffered the same fate, and he continues
playing in a magnificent jondo style. Nevertheless, this would be dis-
asterous to the concert flamenco guitarist.
Flamenco guitarists with easily breakable fingernails suffer count-
less minor misfortunes, as the fingernails of the right hand are instru-
mental in all of the playing techniques. The nails are worn at varying
lengths according to the preference of the guitarist, and they are em-
ployed in different manners. Some guitarists insist that the string must
bounce off of the tip of the finger (or thumb) onto the nail in order to
attain the proper sound. Others use the nail alone to strike the string,
which produces a sharper, twangier sound. In either case, if a particu-
lar fingernail is broken, the corresponding finger will miss its intended
string, or at least nullify the sound, infuriating the guitarist and causing
him to scrounge through women’s cosmetics departments in search of
nail strengtheners. Desperate guitarists try clear Geletin (orally), Rev-
elon’s Nail Fix with tissue paper (the best I’ve found), types of hard
glue, applying raw garlic to the nails, vitamins expressly marketed for
strengthening finger nails, hand baths, and so forth. Such practices can
be most embarrassing, and at times socially unacceptable. Guitar stu-
dents of mine in San Francisco who worked in large downtown firms
were often politely told that it would be wiser if they did not wear Nail
Fix (which resembles nail polish), flamenco or no flamenco. Fortunately,
this weak nail condition seems to disappear with time in most cases,
although there are guitarists who are plagued by this seemingly unim-
portant inconvenience for life.

78
 THE JALEO

The jaleo is a necessary and intricate component of flamenco. It

usually serves as an accompaniment and encouragement for flamenco’s
other components, but I have also heard cuadvos perform the jaleo
very effectively as a solo number.
The jaleo is basically made up of hand-clapping and shouts of
encouragement, and can also be supplemented by finger-snapping and
rhythmical punctuations with the feet (from a sitting position).
The hand-clapping is composed of two techniques: (1) the middle
three fingers of the right hand striking the extended palm of the left,
producing sharp, penetrating sounds. This technique can be developed
to a machine-gun rapidity, and is used mainly in the faster rhythms;
(2) the cupped palms of both hands coming together, producing a
hollow, more jondo sound, which is used mainly in the slower rhythms.
Technique (1) can also be supplemented by a clacking movement of the
tongue, which, done strongly and well, will sound like another band-
clap.
Three good jaleadores (performers of jaleo) can sound like ten.
One will carry the rhythm, another the counter-rhythm, and the third
will weave in and about the jaleo of the other two. If there are more
jaleadores, they will select one of these three courses, adding an excit-
ing impetus and strength.
Among the shouts of encouragement will be heard olé (approval),
asi se canta or asi se baila (that’s the way to sing, or dance), and an
infinite number of others, usually spontaneous, often humorous.
The pitos are a lesser used jaleo technique, not being loud enough
to compete with the palmas and the shouts.
Unitiated spectators will often attempt to join in on the jaleo,
not realizing that it is a science in itself. Sadly enough for the non-
performer, none of flamenco’s components, including the jaleo, can be
attempted successfully without extensive training.

76
 RECITING

Reciting is a rarely heard ’’bastard’’ element of flamenco that can

be beautifully moving, or deadeningly dull. It is generally misused by
being inserted in the middle of a cante, breaking the congruity of the
cante. Pepe Pinto has this habit, which is one of the commercialisms of
an otherwise excellent cantaor.
Reciting to guitar accompaniment can be very flamenco. The poems
of Garcia Lorca and other ’’flamenco’’ poets are especially adaptable,
and are very stirring when done by such talented reciters as Gabriela
Ortega and Pepe Pinto. If singing is to follow the reciting, it is more
effective if the verses of the cante are pertinent to the poem. —
Reciting without guitar accompaniment can also be very emotional,
although less flamenco.

77
 FLAMENCO AND THE NON-SPANIARD

Introduction

The non-Spanish aficionado should be warned of one thing—re-

gardless of his proficiency in performing flamenco, or his accumulation
of knowledge about flamenco, he will always be thought of, and referred
to, as that fellow who performs well, or knows a lot, considering he is
a foreigner.
With very few exceptions he will never be accepted on the level of
the Andaluz. This is due to a rooted belief that only the Andaluces can
perform, or even understand, flamenco properly. This belief is so strong-
ly imbedded in the nature of the Andaluz that even if disproven through
discussion or performance, it remains intact. Like the Japanese in judo
and the Americans in jazz, the southern Spaniard hates to admit that
other races are capable of performing, of even fully grasping, his art.
Hemingway and other non-Spanish bullfight critics have had to
contend with the same attitude. On the surface, Hemingway was ac-
cepted by Spanish aficionados as a true critic. But in event of any se-
rious discussion or argument about the bulls, his viewpoint could always
be discounted if only because he was a foreigner. This same reasoning
is prevalent in flamenco.
Roughly, the hierarchy of flamenco is as follows:
Andaluces, performers and then aficionados, the older the wiser.
Other Spaniards.
Latin Americans.
All others.
This manner of thinking is changing gradually as more and more
non-Spaniards become interested in flamenco. In the meantime, expect
and accept this attitude and your flamenco days will be a lot happier.
 THE CANTE AND THE NON-SPANIARD

The Cante is the least likely flamenco form to be mastered by a

non-Spaniard, above all the cante grande. I personally know several
non-Spaniards who have studied the Camnte extensively, one or two
having arrived at a certain level of proficiency, although falling far
short of mastery. One such singer (and guitarist), the Californian Clark
Allen, has exceptional ability for the Cante and, I believe, is truly on
the scent of the duende. His main drawbacks, and those of most foreign-
ers, are his lack a voice afilld, so desirable for the cante jondo (but not
indispensible), and his lack of opportunity to live in Spain and to con-
tinue his flamenco studies there.
A now well-known example is that of Elaine Dames, of New York,
who entered as a contestant in the Concurso de Cante Jondo (discussed
in appendix 6), which took place in Cérdoba in 1959.
Miss Dames excited much interest, as she is the only foreigner who
has ever dared enter this classic contest. The flamencos could not ima-
gine a foreigner singing flamenco, and much less in competition with
flamenco’s masters. Actually, she came off quite well. She astonished
the judges by her comprehensive knowledge of the Cante. She sang
skillfully, with a well-studied idea of the compds and the delivery.
Other than a few technical deficiencies that can be worked out with
experience, the judges, critics, and aficionados who attended (both
Spanish and Foreign), agreed that what she lacked was the basic stuff
of which flamenco is made, the evasive duende. In other words, she
had taken only the first step, the achievement of a certain knowledge
and technical proficiency. The needle in the haystack, the duende, was
still to be found.
The most interesting example of a non-Spanish singer that I know
of is the Pakistanian Aziz Balouch, a singer of both Pakistanian folk
songs and flamenco. In his recent book dealing principally with himself,
and secondarily with the evolution and origin of cante jondo, Mr. Ba-
louch claims that flamenco is a direct descendant of Indo-Pakistanian
religious and folk songs. Based on this premise, and upon his ability to
sing both flamenco and Pakistanian folklore, Mr. Balouch sets about
to. purify the flamenco ’’way of life’’ by applying Yoga and operatic
training techniques to the flamenco singer. He suggests the following:
(1) Abstention from all alcoholic beverages, especially during and
before singing. He suggests that the singer drink weak tea or tepid water.

79
 (2) Special dietary practices. For best results it would be wise to
zo whole hog and become a vegetarian.
(3) Limiting sexual activities to a bare minimum, with complete
abstention on singing days. He has offered no solution for those who
sing every night.
(4) 15 minutes of lung development a day by vigorously inhaling
and exhaling fresh air.
(5) Cleaning of the nasal passages daily by sucking water up one
nostril and releasing it through the other, and vice versa. Repeat as
desired.
It must be recognized that these practices may give the singer a
clear, bell-like tone, and perhaps an operatic resonance. What Mr. Ba-
louch apparently doesn’t realize is that these are the very vocal qualities
that the flamenco singer avoids. He also seems unaware that flamenco
is not just singing, but a unique philosophy, a way of life. These people
are born flamencos, with everything the word implies; café con ants,
pivopos (flattering utterances to a passing woman), two day juergas,
manzanilla, inactivity, dignity, vino fino, passion, black cigars, the
bulls, independence. Their art is vital, but flamenco is their life. If they
are blessed with artistic talent, well and good. But they do not see
things as other cultures do, and will not behave like other cultures; they
won't give up life’s pleasures (and the flamenco way of life is definitely
a pleasurable one) and their inherent philosophy merely to delicate them-
selves to an art form.
Perhaps one of my memorable flamenco experiences will state more
clearly what I am trying to say. It occurred in the lonely Andalucian
countryside, far from civilization. As I tramped up a winding road, I
found myself encompassed by a haunting voice drifting down from the
surrounding hills. The voice was untrained, cracked with age, and yet
carried an impact of intensity and emotion that I have never heard ex-
celled... an old man with his plow, expressing the loneliness and misery
of life in a heart-rending Stguiriyas. This is the true jondo, the true
flamenco, summed up in a single, simple paragraph.
I shall hazard a recommendation. Unless the beginner is possessed
with a fanatical urge to become a cantaor de flamenco, and with an
exceptional singing talent, he should not venture into this difficult ter-
ritory as a performer. If he just has a general desire to participate in
flamenco, the guitar or the dance are more receptive fields for the non-
Spanish aficionado.

<0
 THE BAILE AND THE NON-SPANIARD

The dance is the easiest and the quickest way for talented non-
Spaniards to break into the flamenco world as performers. Even in
Spain ballet and night club choruses, and a few star spots, are sprinkled
with foreigners.
The theatrical ‘chorus is the least difficult to qualify for, requiring
from the dancer, be he male or female, the following attributes ; a desire
to dance flamenco for art’s sake, under rugged conditions and for near-
starvation wages; a minimum sense of grace; an eagerness to learn
(and a basic knowledge of) flamenco and regional dances, as well as an
infinite amount of patience with routine, dull work ; an unquestioning
obedience to the heads of the company; and an ability and willingness
to ’’look Spanish’’. Let us discuss these individually.
Dancing flamenco in a traveling company chorus is no bed of roses.
Within Spain it means traveling thousands of kilometers in third-class
train coaches amid the clamour of farm animals and sacks brimming
with the local harvest. It means crowding into ever-full coaches, with
seating space calculated for the smallest Spaniard, on Europe’s weariest
railroad. It means playing all of the one-horse towns to a public that is
there strictly for the kicks. It means going along for the experience, as
the salary is only sufficient to maintain ; nothing is put away. It means
staying in second-rate pensions and hotels, eating cheap food, and sa-
crificing all privacy. Outside of Spain, on European or American tours,
conditions and pay are better, although not enough to cause prolonged
rejoicing.
In the chorus the dancer must be graceful enough to avoid calling
attention to himself by his ungainliness, or by stumbling or tripping too
often. He has to be able to syncronize his movements with those of the
rest of the chorus and to move well, but not well enough to detract at-
tention from the stars of the show.
He needs a basic knowledge of flamenco consisting of a good com-
pds and an idea of the various dance movements. Having these assets,
he can quickly by taught everything that he will need as a chorus
dancer. Whatever dance arrangements he may know from previous
lessons or experience will probably be forgotten, as he will rarely be a
soloist. He will be taught the chorus arrangements that will be danced
without variance night after night until he can do them asleep. Ballet
companies do not change their routines for one or more seasons, and

81
the routines become a crashing bore for the dancer with imagination.
The dancer must have an absolute obedience to the heads of the
Company, which consists of one thing: to keep in mind at all times
that his sole purpose is to support the lead dancers. He is expected to
stay gracefully in the background and to do everything in his artistic
power to make the whole group look good, for which the lead dancers
will gracefully take the bows. It is a thankless job, with little self-grati-
fication, but it does give a dancer not-so-valuable experiencc.
If all of the above is agreeable to the dancer, then he may as well’
begin ’’looking Spanish’, the concept of which is a great misconception.
It is generally believed that ’’looking Spanish’’ is to look like the Mex-
icans and Latin Americans in general, with long black hair, black eyes
and eye lashes and brows, and dark skin. Actually the Spaniard, ‘unlike
the Mexican, has no determined National appearance or physical char-
acteristics. They pride themselves on their pale skin, and one can see
in all regions of Spain blue, green, brown, and black eyes, and blond
and dark hair. The gypsies and people of Moorish descent are the main
exceptions to this, and they by no means make up a. majority of fla-
menco’s commercial artists. But spurred on by the desires to please the
public by ’’looking Spanish’, and to imitate the gypsies, flamenco danc-
ers almost without exception dye their hair black, put on quantities of
dark facial makeup, and paint their eye brows and eye lashes black as
midnight. This practice, of course, adds fuel to the fire, and all flamen-
co artists look as if they have stepped out of a Mexican tourist poster.
Incidently, contrary to the belief spread by the American movie indus-
try, flamenco is native to Spain, and only Spain. Someone should ad-
vise Hollywood of this, as they are continually demonstrating their ig-
norance of both Mexico and Spain by inserting flamenco into typical
Mexican scenes where Mariachis or regional Mexican dances would -be
far more appropriate.
The next step up from theatrical chorus groups are night club
choruses. These are harder to break into. Competition is stiff, as such
jobs are softer and pay better. Also, the dancer has to be better qualifi-
ed, as he may have to do a solo number. As a rule, it is wiser for the
foreign dancer to perfect his dance until he can break in as a minor
night club attraction, especially in those clubs (the majority) in which
the choruses are made up of soloists. The qualified non-Spanish dancer
will have the advantage of being able to capitalize on his being non-
Spanish, a curiosity-invoking phenomenon in flamenco. He will have

82
the disadvantage of being more strongly criticized if he cannot fulfill
the public’s expectations.
. ‘Far better in the long run for those students of the flamenco dance
who are happily disposed of time, talent, and money, is to live and
study in Spain. In this manner rapid progress can be made, and the
exceptional student will be: able to break into the professional world
further ‘up the ladder, perhaps in first-class night clubs, or as a soloist
in a theatrical company. Such dancers can also return to their native
countriesto perform and teach, which is more lucrative, and eliminates
most competition. The drawback to this course of action is that in time
the dancer loses touch with the pure flamenco, and his dancing becomes
commercial and vain. Out of the proper atmosphere, Andalucia, it is
extremely difficult for flamenco to remain authentic, and for the duen-
de-to:survive, for any extended period of time.
-The most famous non-Spanish flamenco dancers include three Mex-
icans, Manolo Vargas, Roberto Jiménez, and Roberto Iglesias, and
one Italian-American, José Greco, These dancers have worked their way
to the top of the professional ladder, each presently having his own
successful Spanish Ballet company (these companies are not exclusively
flamenco, nor are they intended to be. They combine classical, modern,
regional,: and flamenco dances, with flamenco being their strongest
component.)
It is very improbable that the non-Spanish flamenco singer or
guitarist achieve the monetary success of these dancers (artistic, yes);
the dancers, Spanish or non-Spanish, have the voodoo sign on the big
money, glittering lights, and international fame, although the situation,
through the present popularization of the Cante and the Toque, could
possibly alter in the future.

THE TOQUE AND THE NON-SPANIARD

A few years ago, the guitar was the most assured way for a non-
Spaniard to make a decent showing as a flamenco. As very few people
understood the intricacies of the guitar, and fewer still of the flamenco
guitar, the beginnér who learned a few chords and a few falsetas of
two or three toques was an expert guitarist, ms flamenco to everyone

83
outside of Spain. Flamenco guitar records are rapidly changing this
enviable condition, and the beginner today finds that he is expected to
compete with the great recorded guitarists, most of whom have been
playing since childhood. The new ’’snob’’ aficionados will corer the
quavering beginner with demands to hear Sabicas’ Soleares, Montoya's
Siguiriyas, Nifio Sinvergiienza’s Bulerias por Media Granaina, etc. The
beginner may haltingly (aware that he is in the presence of a well-versed
aficionado) play a version of the Soleaves. If it doesn’t happen to be
identical with Sabicas’version, our well-versed snob will tell him, in no
uncertain terms, that he is not playing the Soleares properly.
The above situation is entirely possible because of two popular
misconceptions concerning the flamenco guitar; (1) that it is necessary
to play like Sabicas to play good flamenco, and (2) that each togue is
a composition never to be varied, like classical music. Idea (1) has been
covered sufficiently in the guitar chapter. Idea (2) could perhaps be
rehashed a little. As has been stated, each guitarist is entirely free to
create what he wishes within the bounds of the compds and good (fla-
menco) taste. (Carlos Montoya, for example, has gone a little too far
with his St. Louis Blues por Bulerias). If he is a truly creative guitarist,
he will never play a particular toque the same way twice. Various gui-
tarists encourage the idea of flamenco compositions by publishing ver-
sions of toques. These pieces of music are strictly individual versions,
and are not to be taken as the way to play that particular toque. Other
guitarists will add to the composition impression by playing never-
varying versions of a toque for years, signifying only that they are ex-
tremely limited guitarists without imagination or creative ability.
The non-Spanish flamenco guitar beginner will go through a period,
more prolonged outside of Spain, in which he will think only of the
guitar. For him, the guitar will be the beginning and the end of flamen-
co. He will find himself becoming irritated when the singer breaks in
on the guitar introduction to begin his cante, or when the dancer leads
the guitarist away from a beautiful falseta in the course of the accom-
paniment. He would much rather listen to guitar solos than view the
entire cuadro perform. Gradually he will grow away from this as he
begins to understand the other elements of flamenco. He will learn to
appreciate the thrill of a well-sung tercio, the depth of a truly jondo
dance, and the vital force contained in the palmas and the jaleo of a
fast Bulertas. He will remain basically a guitarist, but he will have the
quality of being able to appreciate equally al] of flamenco’s components.
 The non-Spaniard can learn flamenco by two methods; taking
lessons, the wise and costly method, and taking material from records
and tapes, the cheap and unsatisfactory method. For those studying
outside of Spain, a combination of both is perhaps the wisest, with by
far the strongest emphasis placed on the formal lessons. Those fortu-
nates studying in Spain who have a sociable disposition can learn most
satisfactorily by daytime lessons and nighttime juergas, spent in look-
ing, listening, participating, and absorbing. This is probably the only
way to capture the duende. It is also great fun!
Depending on his luck and personality, the non-Spaniard may have
difficulties in his studies with many flamenco guitarists who deign to
teach him. Regardless of the guitar instructor’s economic condition or
the sum agreed upon for the lessons, he makes it understood by his
attitude that he is doing the student a great favor by cramming him
into a tight schedule. A fairly universal rule seems to be that the student
is capable of absorbing two falsetas per lesson, plus a little rasgueado
and rhythm. These two falsetas may take the student ten minutes, or a
half an hour, to learn, and the rest of the hour is supposed to be taken
up by practicing what has been learned. During lessons with unsatis-
factory instructors, I used to pick up the two falsetas in a few minutes,
and then during the rest of the hour be advised from a distance whether
or not I was playing them well. During those practice periods the in-
structor might be absorbed in any number of tasks; cooking, dressing,
eating, shaving, talking on the phone, or merely being sociable with
friends in another room. It is usually necessary to switch instructors
until one is found with a reasonable amount of formality.
Another maddening trait of many guitar instructors, especially gyp-
sies, is their reluctance to part with their favorite material. This is espe-
cially true of the guitarist who creates his own material, as he often
‘becomes obsessed with the idea of keeping it for himself. (It is infuriat-
ing for many creative guitarists to hear very Tom, Dick, and Harry
playing their creations, usually badly, causing them to lose all origina-
lity and become vulgarly popular). There was the well-known case of
the gypsy guitarist who would not teach his material to his own son,
nor even play the guitar in his presence. Manolo de Huelva is another
advanced example of this. His hatred of being plagiarized is basically
what prompted him to renounce all playing commitments other than
private juergas. He not only declines numerous record-making propo-
sitions, but he dislikes, and often refuses, to play in frant of a guitarist

85
whom he considers musician enough to copy his material. The singular
Manolo has become a legendary figure as much for his extraordinary
playing as for his eccentricities. He frequently used to lock himself in
a hotel room with his wife and a bottle, and play up a storm for their
private pleasure. As this idiosyncrasy became know, people used to
gather outside of his hotel room hoping to hear him during one of these
sessions (which have been described to me as ’’unbelievable’’) when he
could really let himself go. He also seems untouched by the lust for mo-
ney or fame. On many occasions he has refused to play for private juer-
gas that offered him 4000 or 5000 ptas., unheard of sums for a guitarist
in Spain, only later to accept ten. times less to play in a juerga that was
to his liking. He has also been frequently known, during the course of a
juerga, to wordlessly pack up his guitar and walk out, refusing all pay-
ment, when his audience did not pay the proper respect to his art.
Regardless of the difficulties encountered in taking flamenco guitar
lessons, they must be taken. Flamenco is too complicated to be learned
solely from records, books, and sheet music. The guitarist’s compds
would most certainly be hopeless, and his falsetas inaccurate versions
of the recorded guitarist’s. His technique would be bad, and his duende
non-existant.
I have listened to many non-Spanish flamenco guitarists in and out
of Spain. With few exceptions they have strived overly hard to achieve
technical perfection, to the inevitable detriment of their duende. They
are not satisfied unless they laboriously play, or rather attempt to: play,
ridiculously complex falsetas. They play too fast, and they don’t usual-
ly ’’feel’’ their falsetas; they don’t accentuate them properly, and they
skip from one to another in unvarying monotony. In an effort to achieve
a ’’well-rounded’’ toque, they try to mix in all of their techniques with-
out a thought as to whether they fit into the pattern which they have
set, and into the emotional make-up of the toque. These faults are cer-
tainly not confined to the non-Spaniards, although they are more pro-
nounced in the foreign guitarist due to his lack of experience and know-
ledge of flamenco. It has to be recognized that it is certainly difficult
not to fall mto bad habits when the guitarist draws his inspirations from
virtuoso records, as do many non-Spanish guitarists, as most virtuoso
guitarists are subtle carmiers of these very failings.
It can be asserted that the foreign guitarists who are capable of true
jondo playing, que dicen algo, are those who have spent .an extended
time in. Spam, mixing with the true flamencos.

86
 HARD TIMES AND RENEWED HOPE

Back in the years 1850-1900 flamenco hit a peak which has been
tabbed tts ’’Golden Age’’. Since that time it has gone downhill, reach-
ing at one stage the point of disappearance. During the past 10 years
flamenco has again regrouped, and is presently on a strong upswing,
perhaps to arrive to its former brilliance. This section is a study of. the
bad times and the renewed hope.

Before its Golden Age the music and dance of flamenco existed
only as an integral part of a way of life. But little by little it gained
popularity, and by the middle of the last century sharp businessmen
realized that flamenco could be exploited profitably in commercial en-
terprises. It was then that Cafés Cantantes came into being, and the
groundwork for flamenco’s Golden Age was laid. Cafés Cantantes were
typical taverns which attracted customers by the novel presentation of
cuadros flamencos (groups of flamenco performers). Each. tavern had
its cuadro, usually supplemented by guest artists from other Cafés (1).
During their heyday, the last forty years of the past century, these
taverns abounded with aficionados who demanded, and were showered
with, pure flamenco.
The Cafés Cantantes have been a double-edged blade in the mod-
em history of flamenco. They were the chief propellent of flamenco’s
Golden Age while, curiously enough, they were at the same time initiat-
ing flamenco’s swift decline to near-extinction. Contradictory as this
seems, it can be easily explained. The Cafés Cantantes were the first
commercial enterprises to actually pay the flamencos for their art, result-
ing in the birth of the professional flamenco artist. Things went extreme-

(1) Some of the more famous Cafés Cantantes were: Sevilla — Cafe
Sijusrio (whi¢h was owned. by the singer Silverio Franconetti, one of the great
singers in flamenco history), El Burrero, and La Marina (which still exists as
a bar. downstairs, a refuge for wayward young ladies upstairs) ; Malaga — Café
de Ghigitas (made immortal by Garcia Lorca), and Bl Café sin Techo; Madrid
— El Brillante; Jerez de la Frontera — La Priméva (which still exists as a bar).

87
ly well for three or four decades. Never had there been so many out-
standing flamenco performers or so many knowledgeable aficionados.
Competition between the Cafés, and the flamenco artists, was fierce. In
time the fanfare became so great that many non-aficionados began
coming in to see what it was all about, most of whom were interested
only in the colour of flamenco, and not it its art. The proprietors of the
Cafés, realizing this, urged their cuadros to please these new clients.
From that time on, the popularity of flamenco grew as its art declined.
It spread to the general public in all parts of Spain, and around the
turn of the century it was finally ripe for theatrical production.
If flamenco was a little distorted when it went into the theatre, it
became badly disfigured there. Pure flamenco does not suit the theatre,
nor the insensitive masses. Many adaptations had to be made, each di-
luting further the purity of the flamenco presented. In the meantime,
the Cafés Cantantes, the unsuspecting creators of this dilema, lost their
public and ceased to exist. The theatres and night clubs now remained
the sole perpetuators of professional flamenco. Within a period of two
generations the public believed theatrical flamenco to be the true fla-
menco, and by mid-century (1950), pure flamenco had nearly died out,
together with many of the pure artists and aficionados.
The following excerpt from a poem, dedicated to the untainted
singer Aurelio Sellés by the poet José Maria Pem4n, summed (and
sums) up the opinion of knowledgeable aficionados concerning the state
in which flamenco found (and still, to a lesser extent, finds) itself:

¢A dénde va esa mano de Aurelio hacia delante?

Va a ahogar veinte gargantas de veinte cantaores
parva limpiar las tablas de las escenas
del rusdoso tropel de las mentiras,
iY que vuelva a ser pena lo que es pena!

Where is Aurelio’s hand reaching’

It is reaching out to choke twenty throats of twenty cantaores
in order to purify the platforms
of the noisy jumble of lies;
and then let sorrow again be sorrow!

But things could only get better. During this period, the double-
edged blade phenomenon again occurred... the theatre, itself the butch-
er of huge chunks of flamenco, also acted as the wandering minstrel,

ea
Breeding place of flamenco: Arcos de la Frontera. Olive trees stretch to the horizon.
Breeding place of flamenco: inside and outside views of the residence of Manolite el de la
Maria, one of flamenco’s great unknowns. The cave is warm and dry in winter,
cool in summer. Bedroom.
Alcove is hand-hewn from the selid rock foundation of a second century Roman castle, the
dominating edifice of Alcala de Guadaira.
 ‘ayy, JO Ae & [QS St OOUAME]Y eUeIy Uy “I9AU
nainbjepeny dy} ssoise (e[tAaG) eUeLy jo MatA dQueWOI Y :ooUZWIeIy jo a0ed Sulpaug
oO ; Pm
Se giles ete . PEIN ese.
a es
spreading the grandeur and colour of Spanish folklore, which has re-
sulted in a period of renewed hope for true flamenco. By means of the
traveling Spanish ballets, theatrical flamenco has been introduced to
vast new audiences outside of Spain.
Many of these foreign viewers were captivated by what they saw,
and an influx of new aficionados came to Spain in search of flamenco in
its proper atmosphere. These people ranged deep into the olive grove
and vineyard country of Andalucia, seeking out the legendary non-pro-
fessional figures of the flamenco world. They found them in white-wash-
ed villages and towns, performing for their own pleasure, completely
forgotten by all but the remaining aficionados. In this way these people
learned what true flamenco is, and through their impetus and that of
a few Spanish aficionados, recordings were made in the 1950’s of some
of the remaining jozdo artists in the form of anthologies of flamenco.
Most of these recorded singers were older men, and they remembered
and revived many cantes and styles that were obsolete and nearly for-
gotten. These records appeared in France, the United States, and in
other countries long before there was a market for them in Spain. Re-
cently they have finally appeared in Spain, and they astonish the Span-
iards, many of whom are hearing true flamenco for the first time. These
records are not only re-educating the Spanish aficionados, but they are
renewing the interest of the Spanish cantaores in these rare cantes as
well, with the result that these cantes are being heard much more fre-
quently, re-inserting diversity and a broadened scope to a decadent fla-
menco; a flamenco that was depending, among the general public, on
popular renditions of a few cantes for its diversity. There is presently
a new, strong trend to sing the cantes in the formal, traditional, jondo
way. The popular idols, the Marchenas, Molinas, Valderramas, so long
the Kings of flamenco, are losing ground. The names of the great can-
taores ate more and more on the lips of the people. Completely un-
known artists within Spain suddently find themselves international fla-
menco figures, sought after by the new aficionados much to their own
amazement.
This renewed interest has introduced an era of flamenco education
and re-education. A few good records and books are doing incalculable
good. Cafés Cantantes, of a nature, are again opening their doors. A
proposed: fraternity
of cante grande, which is dedicated to the further-
ance of pure flamenco, has been inaugurated in the founding city,
Jerez dé’la Frontera. It is: expected that many cities will soon follow

89
suit. National contests of flamenco are expected to be given yearly in
various host cities. This is definitely the beginning of the salvaging of
a great art form. A beginning... but a beginning of a comeback lined
with obstacles. To be overcome are such barriers as the System of Artist
Commercialization, and the general Spanish hostility towards flamenco
as an art.
The System’s present stranglehold on commercial flamenco will be
difficult to break as long as there is an increasing demand for profes-
sional artists to perform before uninitiated, or badly instructed audi-
ences. An example of the System at work could be the following hypo-
thetical case of Juan Fulano, a young guitarist from a small Andalucian
village. Juan wants to play the guitar for a living. He loves flamenco,
and he loves his guitar. Motivated by this and his family’s needs, Juan
approaches an agent in search of a club or theatrical booking. Upon
auditioning, Juan plays a beautifully moving, primitive Sigsuiriyas. The
auditioner, who may or may not comprehend what he has heard, will
have the following reaction:
**Muy bonito, Juan, pero como comprenderds, eso no vende. Very
pretty, Juan, but you have to understand that it won’t sell. I would
advise you to concentrate on your technique. You know, throw in a
lot of arpegios and trémolos and the other razzle-dazzle, and try to
incorporate into your stuff falsetas based on popular or semi-classical
music. You know, give the public something they'll recognize. Also,
concentrate on the fast, rhythmical stuff. That’s what they eat up.
Come back when you've got it worked up.”’
This, of course, is the beginning of the end of the duende in Juan.
Few artists can prostitute themselves and retain their duende. A similar
reaction would be experienced by a dancer, who would be advised
to (1) utilize numerous fast turns, (2) overwork her hips and bottom
and whatever sex appeal she (or he) may have, (3) use much rapid
staccato footwork, and (4) make cute gestures and faces. Also she would
be told that to be a modern-day dancer one has to know not only fla-
menco but regional and some classical dances, and to concentrate on
the fast, rhythmical stuff. The singer would have to insert more flourish-
es, work on attention calling gestures, and learn how to sing popolar
songs to flamenco rhythms.
All of this, of course, is contradictory to the very essence of seri-
ous flamenco. I have personally viewed a number of artists who have
traveled this bitter road. The famous dancer La Chunga is a distressing

90
example, I saw her dance on numerous occasions in México in 1957.
She was magnificent. She knew no footwork, and consequently danced
barefoot. Her costumes were simple gypsy skirts and blouses. She did
not dance by arrangements, but improvised as her moods demanded.
Her outstanding assets, and those most difficult to find in a dancer,
wefe the beauty and grace of her arms and hands, the suppleness of
her movements, the authenticity of her facial expressions, her refreshing
naivete, her complete abandon to her duende, and, above all, her na-
turalness.: There were pressures on her and her manager at the time,
propagated by envious artists, and businessmen mistakenly attempting
to increase her commerciality, to teach her dance arrangements, foot-
work, a more commercial form of flamenco. Her manager successfully
avoided these commitments as long as he could, but he eventually suc-
cumbed. La Chunga began taking lessons and preparing a more elabo-
rate wardrobe.
Soon she returned to Spain, and with great clamor was propelled
to the first figure in the flamenco dancing world. I didn’t have an op-
portunity to see her again until 1960, in a night club on the Andalucian
coast. It was a depressing experience. Through contact with commercial
flamenco she had lost much of her authenticity, her naivete, and, worst
of all, she was no longer natural. Her movements and facial expressions
were studied, with an obvious attempt at timing them to achieve the
greatest effect. She did tricks with her dress, hair, and body, and ex-
ploited her sex appeal, mostly in a cheap, superficial manner (causing
the opposite of the desired effect). She did an excessive amount of me-
diocre footwork. She was no longer sure of herself, I believe in great
part due to her association, as a student, with flamenco’s commercial
technicians. She needed someone to shake her by the shoulders and tell
her to kick.off her shoes and mannerisms and dance in the way in which
only a few of the gifted are capable. From one of the most moving
dancers I have seen, the System may possibly succeed in making her
just another night club attraction.
Unfortunately, the System is not the only obstacle in the road to
flamenco’s recovery. Another is its bad reputation in Spain, which is
a Major reason why many Spaniards of all classes will not accept the
pure flamenco as an art form. In the minds of the Spaniards flamenco
is associated with prostitutes, excessive drinking, gypsies, and bars and
out-of-the-way ventas (country inns) of ill-repute. It is not socially ac-
cepted to like flamenco, nor to associate with it out of the theatre. Even

91
going to a night club that features flamenco is considered ’’slumming
it’’. Un sefiorito espatol (a Spaniard of considerable self-importance,
based on economic wealth, background, or, if nothing else, a profoundly
inflated ego) who clandestinely attends a juerga flamenca — and is
found out — is reproached by his family and friends with much the
same attitude that is employed on a small boy who is caught stealing
crab apples. Those who have the moral fibre to do as they wish, and
who attend jxergas, invariably gain the reputation of being rounders
— perhaps likeable rounders, but nevertheless rounders — an unstable
element of society (1).
It is true that flamenco is associated with wine. Rare are the juer-
gas in which several bottles of manzanilla or vino fino are not consum-
ed. The effects of alcohol, taken in moderate quantities, certainly help
produce the proper flamenco atmosphere. But you will rarely, if ever,
see the authentic flamenco drunk. The flamencos (with exceptions)
know how much they can drink and still conserve their voice and skill.
They also have an extreme sense of dignity. They abhor drunkards and
excessive drinking. They know that they are great artists, and they act
accordingly.
It is also true that the professional flamencos, when not under con-
tract in a theatre or night club, congregate in ventas and bars so as to
be available for hire for private parties. Nearly all such places have
rooms set aside for private flamenco juergas. Nearly all such places also
have girls for hire, to be taken out at the customer’s convenience. The
association between the flamencos and the prostitutes stops there. Both
groups frequent the same bar, but their individual business is carried
on separately and with no coordination whatsoever.
Nevertheless, the bad reputation persists, which results in a superior
attitude among many Spaniards that is more than obvious in the night
clubs and Cafés Cantantes of Spain. Too often the middle and high
class Spanish *’socialites’’ act with astounding lack of manners and
education. They are incurable show offs, loud, arrogant, opinionated,
cute, and above reproach. The ’’will you please be quiet and let us
listen’’ approach to them draws only jeers. Any other approach will
land you in jail. This behaviour
is especially true in Sevilla (ironically
known as the ’’cradle of flamenco’), where the natives have the repu-

(1) In the United States jazz has undergone a remarkably similar

transition, although in a much shorter time.

92
tation of having much gracta (wit), and where they over-step all bounds
to live up to this reputation. They also have the reputation of having
well-cultivated manners and courtesies, which they seem to do their
best to live down. Meanwhile, faced with this attitude, the creative ef-
forts of the performers are frustrated, and the patience of the interested
spectators exhausted.
So as is obvious, pure flamenco is not presently in vogue in Spain.
This may work itself out in this period of renewed popularity. In the
meantime, if you want to see pure flamenco, it is preferable to become
included in small jwergas, composed of aficionados and artists who are
releasing a natural expression, not fighting a hostile public.
Such a juerga is described beautifully by the poet Maximo Anda-
luz in his ’’Los Cabales’’, as follows:
En una tipica Venta The scene ts a typical country inn
o tienda de montatés or general store
en Cadiz o San Fernando, in Cddiz or San Fernando,
en los Puertos o en Jerez. in los Puertos or in Jerez.
En la intimidad de un cuarto In the intimacy of a room
—templo. desnudo de altares—, —temple without altars—
a eso de la media noche around midnight
se han reunido ’’los cabales’’. the ’’faithful’’ have gathered.

Han ido a escuchar un cante,
que es como oficiar un rito:
por ello son los oyentes
pocos y bien avenidos.
El cuadro: dos cantaores
—para poder alternarse—,
ademas de un guitarrista
y una flamenca que baile.
They have come to hear the Cante,
like priests at a ritual:
as 1s essential
they are few and in accord.
The cuadro: two cantaores
—to be able to alternate—
besides a guitarist
and a bailaora.

Los del corro nunca pasan The listeners should never exceed
de los cuatro o cinco amigos, four or five friends,
y, cual conviene, son hombres and it is desirable that
todos los alli reunidos. all of the group be men.
(Que ocurre cuando hay mujeres (What happens when there are
[women
en semejante lugar, at such a get-together;

93
que ellas no escuchan el cante
ni lo dejan escuchar.)
El buen vino jerezano
hizo ya su aparicion,
que el vino enciende las almas
y contenta el corazon.
Por eso es indispensable
en tal momento beber:
un buen cante a palo seco
no se puede comprender.
Varias horas han pasado...
Nadie las quiso contar.
Estan todos tan a gusto
que mds no pueden estar.
Las rendijas de las puertas
traen las claritas del dia...
jComo suena en esta hora
un cante por Siguirsya!
jAhora es cuando canta el cante
el que lo sabe cantar...!
jAhora es cuando muerde el alma
del que lo sabe escuchar!
they don’t listen,
nor do they let others listen).
Good Jerez wine
has made its appearance,
and makes souls light up
and hearts content.
It is indispensible.
at this time to drink;
cold sober, a good cante
will not be understood.
Various hours have passed...
No one bothered to count.
All are so content
that moreso would be impossible.
The cracks of the doors
bring the first ghmmer of dawn...
How a cante por Siguiriyas
sounds at this time!
Now ts when they sing
those who know how to sing...!
Now is when their souls are reached,
those who know how to listen!
 PART II
THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF FLAMENCO
 DISCUSSION OF THE VERSES OF THE CANTE

The verses included in the Encyclopedia have been selected to be

the most representative of each cante. The Spanish form has been guard-
ed as closely as possible in the translations, although it was often neces-
sary to translate the verses more or less freely in order to avoid clouding
their meaning. The rhyming of the verses had to be sacrificed entirely.
These verses, ingenious in their phrasing and symbolism in Spanish,
lose somewhat in translation. A considerable knowledge of Andalucia
and its philosophy is necessary in order to capture the true fragrance
of their meaning. I have attempted to give something of this knowledge
during the course of the book, and have explained in the Encyclopedia
those verses that are probably the least meaningful to the non-Spaniard.
A brief general explanation follows which is intended to further crystal-
lize the meaning of these verses.
The verses of the Cante are derived from two sources: the poet
who creates them and passes them on to the people through a published
work (and which are often altered to fit the personality of each inter-
preter) ; and those springing from the people themselves, created during
inspired moments by cantaores and aficionados. The verses of the pro-
fessional poet, usually a profound expression of the feelings of the
people, are nearly always more grammatically correct than those creat-
ed. by the people. To my knowledge, the only poets who have had their
verses widely accepted have been Andalucians. Perhaps the most fla-
menco and colorful verses are those of the gypsies, which are distinguish-
ed by their picturesquely incorrect grammatical structure, word choice,
and spelling, their tenderness, and their vivid surrealism.
What has seemed to excite the most verses, regardless of their sour-
ce, is the indignation and sorrow caused by being deceived in love, the
ingratitude and falsity of humanity, and (never-forgotten) death. Many
verses also deal with religion (pro for the philosophy, con for the bureau-
cracy), an unjust society controlled by the rich and the strong, admira-
tion for those who rebel against this society (smugglers, bandits, etc.),
and love in general. Often a verse will express a deep sorrow in a more

97
or less humorous way; the southern Spaniard makes fun of everything
except God and mother, including death, a result of his inbred resigna-
tion and skepticism.
The verses are not sung exactly as they appear on the printed page.
Lines are often repeated, words prolonged, long wails of aaay interject-
ed (1). When actually heard and seen interpreted, the verses are infi-
nitely more meaningful. That is another adventure that awaits the afi-
cionado|

(x) Take the example of this Siguiriya of the legendary Manuel! Torre:
Son tan grandes mis penas My suffering is so great
que no caben mds. I can bear no more.
Yo muero loco, sin calé de nadie, I am dying insane, without warmth of
. [anyone,
en el Hospitd... in the hospital (insane asylum)...
In the actual singing of this verse, it may be changed thus:
Son tan grandes mis penas My suffering is so gveat
que no caben mds I can bear no more
jayyy!... jayyy!...
que no caben mds. I can bear no more.
Dios mio, My God,
que yo muero loco, sin calé de nadie, I am dying insane, without warmth of
[anyone,
en el Hospitd... in the hospital...
 GENEALOGY OF CANTE FLAMENCO

The following Genealogy is the result of extensive studies of the

origins of the components of present day flamenco. The chart only at-
tempts to trace the basic origins of these components, along with a few
of the more important secondary influences. If all of the subtle cross-
currents were charted, the result would be an incoherent muddle. It
will suffice keeping in mind that the Andalucian influence, especially
the gypsy, is strong in all of these components as we know them today,
regardless of their origins.
There has been much agitated guesswork as to which cantes were
actually conceived by the gypsies. Only four have been irrefutably es-
tablished as pure gypsy creations: the Martinetes, Rods, Alboreds, and
the. Zambra. Other than these, the cantes with perhaps the strongest
gypsy influence have been the cantes grandes, particularly the Playeras,
Siguiriyas, Deblas, Soleares...
As all but three (Danza Mora, Zapateado, Rondewa toque) of the
charted components were first conceived as songs, the chart has been
entitled Genealogy of ’’Cante’’ Flamenco.

99
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 ENCYCLOPEDIA INDEX

103 Alboreds 127 Nanas

104 Alegrias 128 Palmares
104 Bamberas 128 Peteneras
105 Bulerias 129 Playeras
106 Caleseras 130 Policafia
106 Campanilleros 130 Polos
107 Cantifias 132 Rods
108 Cajias 132 Romeras
109 Caracoles 132 Rondefia (toque)
109 Carceleras 133 Rondefias
IIo Cartageneras 133 Rosas
III Chuflas 134 Rumba Gitana
III Colombianas 134 Saetas
I12 Danza Mora 136 Serranas
113 Deblas 137 Sevillanas
114 Fandangos Grandes 138 Siguiriyas
II5 Fandangos de Huelva 139 Soled
II5 Fandanguillos 141 Solea Corta
II7 Farruca 139 Soleares
105 Fiestas I4I Soleariya
117 Garrotin 145 Tangos Flamencos
118 Granainas 142 Tanguillo
118 Guajiras 143 Tarantas
WW

II9Q Jaberas 143 Taranto

119 Jaleos 144 Temporeras
120 Livianas 144 Tientos Antiguos
UUUU UU

120 Malaguefias 145 Tientos Canasteros

WWM

122 Marianas 146 Tirana

122 Martinetes 146 Tonas
123 Media Granaina 147 Trilleras
124 Medio Polo 148 Verdiales
124 Milongas 148 Vito
SOOO

125 Zambra
DUD

Mineras T49
126 Mirabras 149 Zapateado
127 Murcianas 150 Zorongo Gitano

101
 ALBOREAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
The word *’alboreds’’ is an abbreviation of ’’alboreadas’’, meaning
’*dawning; dawn of the day’’, which has led some theoreticians to
believe that the Alboreds are merely songs sung at dawn. In reality, the
Alboreds are a gypsy wedding cante, believed by the gypsies to give
bad luck if sung at other than the celebration of a wedding. The word
’*alboreadas’’ can also be construed to mean ’’a happening at dawn”’,
which is the time the Alboreds are often sung to the newly-weds, and
which could explain their connection with dawn. More romantically, it
could also signify the ’’dawning of a new life’ for the couple.
The Alboreds are usually done to the compds of the Bulerias.
En un verde prado In a green pasture
tendi mi panuelo. I stretched out my handkerchief.
Salieron. tres rosas © Three roses appeared
como tres luceros. like three morning stars.
Padrinito honrao Righteous father,
a tu hija ya la han coronao. they have crowned your daughter.
Ay, novio, mirala bien Ay, bridegroom, look well at her,
que hasta bonitos tiene los pies, she is pretty to the tips of her toes.
The above verses refer to a gypsy ceremony testing the virtue of
the bride-to-be. If this ’’virtue test’’ is successfully passed, it is in effect
the wedding ceremony. The mother of the bride-to-be, and the parents
of the bridegroom-to-be, deliver the nuptial handkerchief to an old
woman who presides at this ceremony. The old woman takes the girl
aside and inserts the handkerchief into her, deftly rupturing the girl’s
virginity, if existent. If the handkerchief is withdrawn spotted with
blood, the wedding is consecrated, and a two or three day celebration
ensues, If the handkerchief is withdrawn with no trace of blood, any-
thing might happen, including a pitched battle between the families and
their supporters. One thing is certain; the wedding rarely takes place.
But considering that gypsy girls marry at the tender age of fourteen (or
less), the ceremony has all of the probabilities of turning out well. Hf
so, further rituals are performed (described in Donkey Back, Part I),
culminated by the singing of the Alboreds to the newly-weds.
_. Of course, more and more gypsies are adopting payo customs, in-
cluding -the church wedding ceremony. Only a few gypsy bands still
tenaciously cling to their antique customs and rituals in this age when
all.remnants of regional colour are fast giving way to a fanatical drive

203
to make three billion people look, act, and talk alike in a dull, universal
togetherness.
ALEGRIAS.—Cante chico, baile intermedio, toque chico.
The Alegrias, developed in CAdiz, were conceived from the ancient
Soleares; their rhythmical count and accentuation are identical, although
the Alegrias are faster, and their chord structure stresses the gay major
chords rather than the more melancholy minor chords of the Soleares.
The cante and the toque of the Alegrias are lively and vivacious (Ale-
grias translates ‘’gaiety’’). The baile has developed along slightly more
jondo lines. As a popular Tientos Canasteros verse states, one should
go to the Barrio Santa Maria (gypsy quarter) in Cadiz to see the Ale-
grias performed, in the little taverns and often in the streets themselves,
with their true flavour. Various cantes have been inspired by the Ale-
grias, such as the Bulerias, Romeras, Mirabrds, Cantinas, Caracoles,
and Rosas. The Alegrias, one of the more difficult elements of the chico
category, are also one of the two or three most popular.
Aunque me ponga en tu puerta Even tf they put in your door-way
cafiones de artilleria, artillery cannons,
tengo que pasar por ella I would attempt to enter
aunque me cueste la via. although st cost me my lfe..
Se han puesto en balanza Two hearts
dos corazones a un tiempo; are being weighed on a scale;
uno pidiendo justicia, one asking justice,
otro pidiendo — venganza. the other — vengeance.
Cuando te vengas conmigo When you come with me
éque addnde te voy a Nevar? where am I going to take you?
Que a darte un paseito For a little walk
por la muralla real. . along the great sea-wall (in Cddiz).
BAMBERAS.—Cante chico, neither danced nor played.
In many towns of Andalucia their still exists a curious medieval
tradition of erecting huge swings every spring and summer, as a sort of
fair weather sport celebrating the crop harvests. Each neighborhood in
the town has its swing, and there are competitions to see who can swing
the highest. The swingers are usually full-skirted girls, aided by people
on the ground with ropes attached to the swing. In rhythm to the swing-
ing, the spectators sing Bamberas, which are similar to the Fandanpui-
Ros and the cantes camperos (Trilleras, Nanas), while peeking at the

104
girls’legs. It is claimed that the Bamberas are of Celtic origin. Their
name is derived from the word ’’bamba’’, the local name for ’’swing’’.
Eves chiquita y bonita, You are petite and pretty,
eres como yo te quiero, like I want you,
eres una campanita a little bell
en las manos de un platero... in the hands of a silversmith...
La nitia que estdé en la bamba The girl that is swinging
no tiene padre, ni madre, has neither father nor mother,
mi novio que vaya a verla, nor boy friend that goes to see her,
ni perrito que la ladre... nor even a little dog to bark at her...
BULERIAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
The Bulerias are a gaier, wilder, faster version of the family Ale-
grias — Jaleos — Soleares, maintaining the same rhythmical count,
although their accentuation is far more complex. Both major and/or
minor chord structures are employed. It is said that the gypsies of Jerez
de la Frontera mistakenly misperformed the Alegrias over a period of
time, with the resultant development of the Bulerias.
Although the Bulerias were apparently performed first as a slow
dance, they are now the liveliest component of all flamenco, often per-
formed in a humorous vein. The name ’’bulerias’’ was derived from
the word ’’burlerias’’ (to make fun of).
The Bulerias are the overwhelming favorite of the flamencos on
festive occasions (the Bulerias are also called ’’Fiestas’’), being parti-
cularly suited to the gypsies. They are probably the most technically
intricate and difficult flamenco form for the guitarist.
There are many styles of Bulerias, the most frequently heard being
those of Sevilla, Triana, Alcal4, Jerez, Puerto Real, Puerto Santa Ma-
ria, and Cadiz.
The following are typical gypsy verses:
Tengo en mi casa un jardin In my house I have a garden
por si viene un contra tiempo in order to sell flowers for you
vender yo flores pa ts. if bad times come.
A mi me duele, me duele My mouth hurts me,
la boquitu de decirte, gitana, from asking you
gitana, si th me quieres. if you love me.

105
Lo he dicho, y lo voy hacé I’m going to make, as I have said,
un teléfono sin hilo a wireless telephone
pd sabé de tu queré... in order to know of your love...

Er queré quita er sentio; Love destroys the senses,

lo digo por esperiensia, I talk through experience
porque a mi m’ha suseio. because it has happened to me.
A mi me daban, me daban, I had
tentaciones de locura crazy temptations
cuando de ts me acordaba. whenever I thought of you.
Ven acd, falsa y refalsa,- Come here, false woman,
falsa, te vuelvo a deci... false, I say again,
El dia que me. vendiste, the day that you sold me out,
ccudnto te dieron por mi?... how much did they give?
Cuando pases por mi vera When you pass by me
orvia que me has querio forget that you have loved me
y no me mires siquiera. and don’t even glance my way.
En un cuartito los dos, If we were in a room together
veneno que t% me dieras, I would do anything for you,
veneno tomara yo. even take poison.
CALESERAS.—Cante chico, neither danced nor played.
A ’’calesero’’ is the driver of a horse-drawn buggy. The Caleseras
are the cante that helps these drivers pass the long hours on the open
road. The compds is to the trot of the horse’s hooves, slow or fast as the
case may be. The verses are usually about animals, the country, and
love. The Caleseras are thought to be a much gaier descendent of the
Serrana.
Tengo una yegua rubia, I have a blonde mare,
rubia castana, a chestnut mare,
la rubia de Lucena she is called
se Hama la -yegua. the Blonde of Lucena (a town near
Cérdoba). ,

CAMPANILLEROS.—Andalucian folklore not considered flamenco.

The Campanilleros are a traditional cante sung by the members of
religious processions called the ‘’Rosario de la Aurora’’’ (Rosary' at
dawn). These processions leave at dawn from their churches for various

106
religious motives, proceeding through the streets singing the Campani-
Ueros, en masse, to the accompaniment of the ringing of little bells, and
sometimes guitars, carried by the members of the procession. The tra-
dition of the bells is being lost, although a few parishes in Andalucia
still respect this colorful ceremony. These processions take place most
frequently during Lent, and in the fall of the year.
The Campanilleros are not usually considered flamenco, as the
cante has few of the characteristics of true flamenco singing. Neverthe-
less, they do play an interesting part in the life of Andalucia, and there-
fore qualify to be mentioned. Also, a few singers have introduced more
flamenco-ized versions of the cante, apparently attempting to add the
Campanilleros to flamenco’s repertoire. When accompanied by the gui-
tar,-the Fandangutilo compds is often used, or merely a steady, beating
rhythm. Their name derived from the tradition of the httle bells, which
are called ’’campantllas’’.
En los pueblos de mi Andalucia At dawn the Campanilleros
los Campanilleros a la madrugd wake me with their little bells
me despiertan con sus campanillas and make me weep with their guttar
y con su guitarra me jasen lord... in the villages of my Andalucia...
Un devoto por ir al Rosario As the Rosary (procession) passed
[by
por una ventana se quiso arrojad, one of the devout threw himself
[from a window,
y al deci ’’;Dios te sarve Maria!’’, and on crying ’’God save you, Ma-
[rial’”,
se jayé en er suelo sin jaserse nd. he crashed to the ground uninjured.

CANTINAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.

The Cantifias are identical to the Alegrias, with the exception of a
variation in the cante. The word ’’cantifia’ is the name given to medie-
val songs from Galicia, in northern Spain, which leads theorists to be-
lieve that the Cantifias were adopted by the people of Cadiz and set to
the rhythm of the Alegrias. They are a gay cante, with a strongly ac-
centuated compds. Excellent present day singers of the Cantisas are
Aurelio de CAdiz, Pericén de Cadiz, and La Perla de Cadiz, among
others..

307
A ti muchos te dirdn, Many will tell you
’*Serrana, por ti yo muero’’; "Mountain Girl, I would die for
[yos;”’
yo nunca te he dicho nd I have never told you that,
que soy el que mds te quiero. although I am the one that loves
[you most.
Que con el aire que llevas With the air that you have
que cuando caminando vas, when swinging along,
que hasta el farol de la popa you're likely to blow out the lantern
que tu lo vas a apagar... at the poop of the boat...
CANAS.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
The Casas, together with their sister cante, the Polos, are the most
ancient known manifestation of flamenco. They were derived from re-
ligious chants centuries ago. Many cantes have derived, directly or m-
directly, from the Cafas (see the Genealogy of Cante Flamenco), the
most similar of which are the Soleares. Today the basic differences be-
tween the Cafias, Polos, and the Soleares are in the structure of their
cantes. Their basles and toques are very similar, although traditional
differences still exist which are known by truly knowledgeable artists.
Presently the Cafias are rarely performed in their traditional purity,
although strong efforts are being made to revive this majestic cante.
The cantaores Curro Dulce, Silverio, and Chacén all contributed
creatively to the development of the Cafias.
Deja que la gente diga Let the people say what they wish,
que te quiero y no te quiero, that I love you or don’t love you,
yo soy quien pasa las penas, I am the one who suffers the pangs,
y sé que te estoy queriendo... and I know that I love yow...

El libro de la experiencia The book of experience

no sirve al hombre de nd; serves man for nothing,
al final viene la letra the truth comes at the end, |
y nadie llega al final... and no one arrives to the end...

La mujer y la sombra A woman and a shadow

tienen un simil: are much alike;
que buscando se alejan, on being pursued, they escape;
dejadas, siguen. on being ignored, they follow.

108
CARACOLES.—Cante and toque chico, baile intermedio.
The Caracoles are rhythmically identical to the Alegrias, varying
mainly in their cantes and in their chord structures. Today the Cara-
coles are considered to be a cante of Madrid. In modern times this is
true, due to their introduction to Madrid by the roth century banden-
Heros (placers of banderillas in the bullfight) Curro Cichares and el
Tato, who heard, and were captivated by the Caracoles in Cadiz. Be-
fore this, the cantaores José el de Sanlicar and Paco el Gandul had
taken a relatively serious and majestic Caracoles and infected them
with the gaiety and lightness characteristic of the cantes of Cadiz. Thus
the Caracoles have developed from relatively serious to light, and have
been transplanted from the province of Cadiz to Madrid. The word
’*caracoles’’ literally means ’’snails’’, but here it is used as an exclama-
tion, much like ’’caramba’’.
It is thought that the Caracoles may have been in part developed
from a roth century Cantifa called ’’La Caracolera’’.
Como reluce How the great street of Alcald
la gran calle de Alcald glitters and shines
cuando suben y bajan when the people of Andalucia
los Andaluces. pass up and down.
Alcala is a principal street in Madrid.
Vdmonos, vémonos Let’s go, let’s go
al café de la Union to the Union café,
en donde para Curro Cuchares, the meeting place of Curro Cicha-
[res,
el Tato, y, Juan Leon. el Tato, y Juan Leon.
The Café de la Unidn, in Madrid, used to be the hangout for to-
reros, banderilleros, and other people of the bull ring.
CARCELERAS.—Cante grande ’’a palo seco’’, neither played nor
danced.
”*Carcel’’ means ’’jail’’ or '’prison’’, ’’carceleras’’ translates *’hap-
penings in a prison.’’ The Carceleras are reminiscent of the Martinetes,
Tonds, and Siguiriyas in their wailing, difficult execution. They are a
cante that was created, and still thrives, within the walls of Andalucian
prisons. They are the lonely cry of the abandoned, of men who have
become criminals during a moment of passion, or perhaps have been

109
jailed mistakenly. They are jondo, serious, and hopeless; a cante of
men pressed against bars and crying:
Maldita sea la carcel, Damned be the jail,
sepultura de hombres vivos, tomb of live men,
donde se amansan los guapos where spirited men are tamed
y se pierden los amigos. and friends are lost.
Conoct a un hombre de bien, I knew a good man,
tan cabal como un rel, as faultless as a watch;
y por cosas del querer through the happenings of love
en un presidio murio. he died in a prison,
Si alguien hubtera en el mundo If someone in the world
que la libertad me diera, could give me liberty,
con jierros en los tobillos with chains on my ankles
esclavito suyo fuera. I would be his slave.
Aquel que tenga familia He who has a family
que no hable mal de nadie, should talk badly of no one,
que puede tené el castigo for he may be punished in turn
de que de la suya hablen. by someone talking of hss.
This verse refers to a gypsy superstition that slanderous talk is
liable to backfire.
The Carceleras also served a practical purpose. Gypsy prisoners
used to sing messages in caldé (the language presently spoken by the
Spanish gypsies, an impure mixture of Romani and Spanish) to relatives
and friends outside of the walls, much to the annoyance of the uncom-
prehending guards.
CARTAGENERAS.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.
The Cartageneras were conceived by the sweat, risks, and hard life
of the miners of Levante during the latter part of the last century and
the beginning of the present. They are sad, resigned, and jondo in na-
ture, and have a definite Oriental quality. Thcy are a free cante, hav-
ing no defined compds; the guitarist has the difficult task, in this and
in all free cantes, of following the whims of the singer. They are a true
test for both the singer and the guitar accompanist. Their name was
taken from the eastern Mediterranean seaport of Cartagena.
A singer called Rojo el Alpargatero is credited with much of their
early development, followed by Antonio Chacén’s superb interpreta-
tions.

110
Se esté quedando la Union La Unién is becoming
como corrd sin gallinas: like a farm without chickens:
a unos se los lleva Dios, God takes some,
a otros los matan las minas. the mines finish the others.

La Untén was a mining town in the mountains near Cartagena that

had a typically large casualty list in the years of primitive mining.
Obrero, porqué trabajas Worker, why do you work
si pa ti no es el producto; if you don’t reap the benefits;
para el rico es la ventaja for the rich, the rewards,
y para tu familia el luto. for vour family, the mourning.

Notice the similarity between this verse and the American union
songs of the 20’s and 30’s.
CHUFLAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
A more burlesque form of the Tientos Canasteros (Tangos), the
Chuflas. are an all-out effort at humour, Developed by the gypsies of
the Cadiz region, it is said that only the gypsies have the abandon to
dance the Chuflas well; if not done with true grvacia and good taste by
a natural comedian, they often become grotesque.
The Chuflas will often express the public’s view of contemporary
events, usually in a humorously ironic manner. As in the Chuflas any-
thing goes, they are probably flamenco’s most truly spontaneous com-
ponent.
Verses of the Tientos Canasteros and the Chuflas can be sung in-
terchangeably, as the rhythm and accentuation are identical.
The word ’’chufla’’ means ’’kidding’’, ’’horsing around’’.
Somos sefiores, We are sefiores,
unos giuenos amigos, all good friends,
que a divertirnos decided to
estamos decidtdos; have a good time,
a pasar las incomodidades to ignore the bad
y @ partirnos las utilidades. and share the good.

COLOMBIANAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.

The Colombianas have been inspired by the rhythms of Colombian
folk music. Their compds, accentuation, chording and flavour are re-
miniscent of the Cuban Guajiras, and the Rumba Gitana. They have
been popularized to a great extent by the dancer Carmen Amaya and

Ml
the guitarist Sabicas. They are known to be gay, but, as you can note
from the verses, this is not necessarily so.
Quisiera ser perla fina Oh, to be one of the elegant pearls
de esos pulidos arretes of your burnished ear rings
y besarte la boquita and kiss your pretty mouth
y morderte los cachetes. and bite your cheeks.
éQuién te manda ser bonita Who told you to be so pretty
si hasta a mi me comprometes? that even me you are winning?
De la guerra vengo ciego, I return blind from the war,
y aunque me sea doloroso, and although it is truly sad,
prefiero no ver el cielo I prefer not to see the sky
que verte que estds con otro; than to see you with another;
hubiera sido un consuelo tt would have been a consolation
dar mi vida al Poderoso. to give my life to the Almighty..
Con iu genio y tus desplantes, With your bad temperand your
[tantrums,
es poco grato mi sino. my destiny is pretty grim.
jBien supistes engatarme How well you knew how to
al tropezarte conmigo! deceive me!
jPues que te pelen al rape So let them shave your head
y que te den el ricino! and give you castor oil!
This verse refers to the hoped-for jail treatment of a bad-natured
lover.
DANZA MORA.—Baile and toque chico, not sung.
**Danza Mora’’ translates ’’Moorish Dance’’, and is a direct fla-
menco adaptation of the Moorish style of music. Rhythmically it is simi-
lar to the Zambra.
The Danza Mora is the flamenco baile and toque most influenced
by the Moors. It is usually danced barefoot, and often with little cym-
bals on the tips of the fingers which make bell-like sounds when struck
together. It is generally more serious and less sensuous than the Zamm-
bra, with an increased use of slow, fluid arm movements, and without
the desplantes which mark the Zambra. When danced well the Danza
Mora has an air of mysterious beauty which characterizes all serious
Onental dancing. Sometimes verses of the Zambra will be sung to the
Danza Mora. This practice is frowned upon, as it is out of keeping with
the feeling of the dance.

112
DEBLAS.—Cante grande *’a palo seco’’,- neither danced -nor played.
The Deblas are one of the most jondo manifestations of the cante
grande. Very few cantaores are capable of singing them with their orig-
inal depth of expression. Presently the Tonds, Deblas, and Martinetes
are nearly indistinguishable to most cantaores and aficionados, and are
often included in the same cante, as the complete cante of each has
been nearly forgotten. Great effort is being made to revive these grand
cantes.
' The Deblas, as we know them today, were created by El Lebrijano,
a singer of the 18th century, and further developed by Diego el Fillo in
the early roth century. Their verses have the curious characteristic of
being always ended with the phrase ’’deblica bare’’ (usually sung in
the flamenco way ’’deblica barea’’, or ’’deblica bareaoo’’), which is
calé (gypsy) for ’’grand goddess’. The reason for this is unknown.
Most probably there is a connection between the Deblas and some
distant gypsy religious rite.
Rafael Romero sings one of the few recorded interpretations of the
Deblas (and another rarely heard cante, the Tonds Chicas) on the
Westminster Anthology of Cante Flamenco.
Yo ya no era quien era I am no longer what I was
ni quien yo fui ya seré; nor will I be again;
soy un drbol de tristeza I am a tree of sadness
pegaito a la paré. in the shadow of a wail.
Deblica bare... Deblica bare...
Una mujer fue la causa A woman was the cause
de mi perdicién primera; of my first downfall;
no hay perdicién en el mundo _ there is no perdition in the world
que por mujeres no venga. that is not caused by women.
Deblica bare... Deblica bare...
En el barrio de Triana In the neighborhood of Triana
no hay pluma ni tintero there is neither pen nor ink
pa escribirle yo a mi mare with which to write my mother,
que hace tres afios no la veo. whom I haven’t seen for three years.
Deblica bare... Deblica bare...
This verse reflects the poverty which still exists in the Barrio de
Triana, in Sevilla.

113
TO
FANDANGOS GRANDES.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.
The Fandangos Grandes are probably the most widely sung, and
badly abused, cante of all of flamenco. Every singer with the minimum
of pretentions attempts the Fandangos Grandes; but the Grandes, sung
as they should be, are not a cante for the run-of-the-mill singer. The
true Fandangos Grandes approach the jondo, and are dominated by
only a few singers; el Gordito de Triana, Antonio Mairena, Canalejas
de Puerto Real, and Caracol are among their true masters.
The origin of the category ’’Fandangos’’, which includes the Gran-
des and the Fandanguillos (also called Fandangos de Huelva) is thought
to have been in the Jota country of northern Spain (1). The original
Fandangos were lively and danceable, accompanied by guitars, casta-
nets, tambourines, and violins (as is still true of the traditional Verdia-
les of the same family). In time one branch of the Fandangos took on
more serious aspects, chiefly because of the influence of Arabic stylings,
and grew away from the original Fandangos; this jondo outgrowth is
the Fandangos Grandes. Now, due to their completely different natures,
it is necessary to differentiate between the Fandangos Grandes (Great
Fandangos), and the Fandanguillos (Little Fandangos).
There are many types of Fandangos Grandes, the most prodigious
being those of Triana, Cérdoba, and Lucena. They are an abstract
cante without an indicated compds, the guitar having to closely follow
the singer.
La gente quiere perderte The people wish to reject you,
y voy a salvarte yo, but I am going to save you
porque me duele tu pena because your grief saddens me
como le doliéd al Sefior as the grief of Magdalena
el Nanto de Magdalena. saddened God.
A los racimos de uva Your love seems
se parece tu querer; like a bunch of grapes;
la frescura viene antes, the freshness comes first,
la borrachera, después. the drunkenness after.
Yo como té no encuentro nin- I won't find another woman
[guna,
mujer, con quien compararte; to compare with you;

(1) The Jota, in turn, has been traced to a Moorish heritage.

114
sdlo he visto, por fortuna, I have only seen one
@una en un estandarte on a pedestal
y a los pies leva la luna. with the moon at her feet.
This verse refers to a statue of the Virgin Mary, on which she is
standing on a ball which could be taken as the moon.
Por su santa voluntd God made love blind
ctego hizo Dios el queré. by his saintly desire.
Yo he visto mds de una vé I have seen more than once
perderse a un hombre cabal the ruin of a good man
por una mala mujer. over a bad woman.
And two depressing Fandangos de Triana:

Una mujer se moria A woman was dying

sus hijos la rodeaban her children surrounded her
y el mds chico la decia and the smallest said to her
Maméd mirame a la cara Mama look at my face
no te mueras todavia... don’t die yet...

Entré un dia en un manicomio. I entered an insane asylum one day

me pesa el haberlo hecho —it grieves me to have done tt—
yo vi una loca en el patio I saw a crazy woman in the patio
se sacaba y daba el pecho take out and feed her breast
a una munequita de trapo... to a little rag doll...
FANDANGUILLOS.—Cante and toque chico, mixed dance.
The Fandanguillos (Fandangos de Huelva) are thought to have
descended from the Jota of northern Spain. Originally they were ac-
companied by guitars, violins, tambourines, and castanets. Deep in the
Huelva country, where these instruments are scarce, supplemental ac-
companying instruments have been developed, and are still used, which
are: reed flutes, hand-made by the country people from reeds that grow
in the country; pieces of partially-split cane that, when skillfully bang-
ed between the thumb and forefinger, produce a sound similar to casta-
nets ; and crude drums on which they beat out the basic rhythm.
Each village in the province of Huelva has developed its own style
of Fandanguillo, the most well-known being those of Almonte, Alosno,
and el Rocio. A particularly good time to hear these many types of
Fandanguillos is during the Romeria del Rocio (religious pilgrimage to
the village of Rocio, which lies between Sevilla and Huelva). Once a

11S
year el Rocfo is the convergent point of oxen carts from all over the
province (this Romeria is, sadly enough, becoming badly cluttered up
with automobiles, motos, trucks, etc.). Religious ceremonies are stressed
the first two or three days, followed by two or three days more of mer-
riment sparked by countless Fandanguillos which issue from everywhere
and everybody.
The Fandanguilfos have enjoyed immense popularity during this
century, much to the disgust of the purists. During a span of thirty or
forty years the Fandanguillos and the Fandangos Grandes were almost
all that could be heard of flamenco. This state of affairs, extremely
harmful to the art of flamenco, is just today subsiding.
The most famous fandanguero remembered is Pepe Pérez de Guz-
man, a member of an aristocratic family of Huelva.
The Fandanguillos are characterized by a never-ending number of
poetically beautiful verses of all themes and moods, as follows:
Cuando la vi de Uorar When I saw her cry
que crei de volverme loco, I thought that I would go crasy.
pero luego me enteré But later I understood
que ella lloraba por otro, that she cried for another;
y entonces ful yo quien lloré. then it was I who cried.
Me tratas como a un nto You treat me like a child
porque te quiero com locura. because I love you with frensy. |
Tu me tivas por los suelos. You drag me through the dirt.
Qué malamente me miras How bad you are with me
tanta como yo te quiero. as much as I love you.
Se volvieron a encontrar As they rounded a corner
al revolver una esquina, they met again,
y como dos criaturas and like two children
se pusieron a lorar. they began crying.
E? amor no tiene cura. Love has no cure.
No quiero que hables con naide. I don’t want you to talk to anyone.
Sdlo con tw confesor, Only to your confessor,
can tu padre, your father,
can in madre, your motker,
con tu hermaenita, yous sister,
¥ yo. and me.

x6
 The last verse portrays a Spanish-Moorish attitude still very
prevalent in Andalucia.
Hasta después de la muerte I shall love you
te tengo que estar queniendo, even after death,
que muerto también se quiere. for the dead can still love.
Yo te qutero con el alma, I love you with my soul,
y el alma nunca se muere. and the soul never dies.

FARRUCA.—Baile and toque chico, no longer sung.

La Farruca is thought to be an adaptation of the dances of the
province of Asturias, ih northern Spain. This belief is strengthened by
the dictionary definition of *’farruca’’: ’’Asturian or Galician newly-
arrived; brave, courageous.’’ It is very similar to the Tientos Canas-
teros, although its baile and toque have developed along more majestic,
serious lines. Many bailes and cantes, such as the Farruca, have been
formed in the port of Cadiz, which was an extremely popular stop-over
port in the past. The Gaditanos (people of CAdiz) were fast to absorb
their visitor’s folklore, atid were ingenious in converting it to flamenco.
The Farruca has developed, largely through the efforts of el Faico, a
19th century dancer from Sevilla, as probably the most virile of the
male dances. The cante Farruca largely disappeared in the last century.
GARROTIN—.Andalucian folklore.
The Garrotin is being accepted slowly’ but surely into flamenco
circles, as are the Sevillanas, Milongas, Tanguillos, Campanilleros, and
the Vito, to date considered folklore. All of these are considered by an
increasing number of aficionados as chico elements.
The Garrotin is said to have descended from the Farruca and, like
the Farruca, is thought to have been converted into flamenco in the
Cadiz area from the folklore of northern Spain, probably of Asturias
or Galicia.
Mi mario es mi mario My kusband is mine
y no es mario de nadie; and mine alone;
la que quiera a mt mario whoever wants him
vaya ala guerra y lo gane. has a fight on her hands.
Preguntale a mi sombrero, Ask my hat
mi sombrero te dira and it will tell you
las malas noches que paso of the bad nights that I pass
y el relente que me da. and the cold that £. feel.

il7
GRANAINAS.—Cante and toque intermedio. Not danced.
The Granainas are an adaptation of the Fandangos Grandes which
have been strongly influenced by the Moors, rulers of Granada for eight
centuries. They have developed a more discordant, Oriental quality
than the Fandangos Grandes. Although not considered particularly
jondo, certain interpreters, such as el Nifio de Almadén, give them a
profundity and beauty that cannot be denied. Many of their melodies
and verses strongly stress the resignation prevalent in the Arabic and
Gypsy philosophies. They are a free cante and toque, without a deter-
mined compds. The term ’’granainas’’ is an abbreviation of ’’granadi-
nas’’, which means to say ’’songs from Granada’.
Ninguno ya tiene penas, No one has grief anymore,
que todas las tengo yo, I have it all myself,
con una losita negra with a black tombstone
encima del corazén... upon my heart...
Una cruz Uevas al pecho, You carry a cross on your chest,
engarzd en oro y marfil, _mounted in gold and ivory,
deja que me duerma en ella, let me sleep upon it,
crucificdndome allt... crucifying myself there...
GUAJIRAS.—Cante, baile and toque chico.
The Guajivas are a flamenco version of a Cuban rhythm of the
same name. They were brought to Spain in the XVI century by Spanish
soldiers returning from the conquests. Most of their verses deal with
Cuba and the Cubans, usually in a light vein. The Guayiras, indolent
and sensual, are rhythmically similar to the Tientos Canasteros and
the Rumba Gitana.
Yo vi batarse un cubanito I saw a Cuban boy swimming
entre los caftaverales between the cane fields;
y al mirarme sonrela on seeing me he smiled
y cantdndome decta and asked me, singing,
que lo sacara del agua to take him out of the water
porque el agua estaba fria... because it was very cold...
Vente conmigo al bohio Come with me to my hut
que es una choza de plata, that ts made of silver,
donde has de estar, mi mulata, where you will be, my mutata,
a tu completo albedrio; by your own free will;
te brindaré mi amorio I will toast my love to you

118
satisfecho y orgulloso, satisfied and proud,
y ante el Todopoderoso, and before the All-powerful,
como rendido doncel, like a conquered knight,
te juraré serte fiel; I shall swear to be true;
el mds fiel de los esposos. the truest of all husbands.
JABERAS.—Cante and toque intermedio. Not danced.
The Jaberas are a rarely heard member of the large family of the
Fandangos Grandes, mote directly associated with the Malaguefas.
They are believed to have originated as an inland cante of country
people. Like the Malaguefias, they are a free cante with no determined
compds.
Se despierta un rey celoso, A jealous king who wakes up
coge la pluma y escribe, picks up his pen and begins writing,
y en el primer renglon pone: and on the first line he puts:
quien tiene celos no vive. he who is jealous does not live.
En el pinar del amor In the pine forest of love
estando cortando pinas, cutting pine trees,
del tronco salté una astilla; a splinter flew from a trunk
se clavé en mi corazon. and buried ttself in my heart.
Muerto estoy, llorame, nina... Iam vanquished; cry for me, love...
JALEOS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
The Jaleos are said to be the oldest of the known rhythms of Cadiz.
They are gay, vivacious, usually a typical manifestation of the pictur-
esque *’joy of living’’ that the Gaditanos (people of Cadiz) possess.
They are a more primitive form of the Alegrias.
Viva Cddiz y viva Long hve Céadiz
la muralla junto al mar... and its sea wall...
Vivan los cuerpos gaditanos Long live the Gaditanos,
que se saben jalear... experts at hell-raising...
Viva la novia, y el -novio, Long live the bride and the groom,
y el cura que los caso, and the priest who married them,
el padrino y la madrina and the godfather, and the god-
| mother,
y los convidaos, .y yo... and the guests, and myself...
and one not so gay:

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jAy!, que me he quedao Ay! I have been left
manquito y cojo, maimed and crippled
que de cortar from cutting
las catias de canta cane after cane
en los cataverales... in the cane fields...
Ayyy, como darle de comer Ayyy, how to feed
ami pare, a mi mare... my father and my mother...
LIVIANAS.—Cante, toque, and baile grande.
The Livianas are the sister cante of the Serranas, having the same
compds, and varying only in the structure of the cante. They are said
to have been derived in part from the Martinetes and the Siguirtyas,
perhaps being first sung in gypsy blacksmiths’ forges. Their verses are
generally more philosophical and less melancholy than those of the Mar-
tixetes and the Siguiriyas. The origin of the term ’’livianas’’, as ap-
plied to the cante, is unknown. Presently a ’’liviana’’ is understood to
mean "lead donkey’’, or ’’frivolous’’, neither of which seems appro-
priate.
Quita una pena otra pena, One sorrow relieves another sorrow,
un dolor, otro dolor, one pain, another pain,
un clavo saca otro clavo, one nail forces another,
y un amor quila a otro amor... and one love is replaced by anoth-
[er...
Crece el fuego con el viento, Fire grows with the wind, .
con la noche el padecer, suffering with nightfall,
con el recuerdo, la pena, sorrow with remembrance,
con los celos, el querer... and love with jealously...
Tengo una copa en la mano, I have a drink in my hand
y en los labios, un cantar, and @ song on my lips,
y en mi corazon, mds penas but in my heart... more sorrows
que gotas de agua en el mar, than drops of water in the sea,
y en los desiertos arenas... or sand in the desert...
Ventanasa la calle Windows facing the street
sos peligrosas, son peligrosas, are dangerous, so dangerous,
pé la mare que tiexe for the mother that has
Sus itias hermosas beautiful daughters...
MALAGUENAS.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.
In the past the Malaguefias have reached unforgettable heights.

aq
They were the favorite cante of such famous singers as Juan Breva,
Antonio Chacén, and Enrique el Mellizo, and when sung by them reach-
ed the honored level of cante grande. The Malaguenas have been de-
scribed as a Fandango Grande given the special flavour of the sea and
the beaches; the flavour of the beautiful region of Malaga. They are a
direct descendent of the Fandangos Grandes, and, like them, are a free
cante with an undetermined compds.
The well-known semi-classical Malaguefia of Lecuona was based
on the flamenco Malaguefas, and at times displays certain faint traces
of a flamenco style. ,
Malaguefas of Antonio Chacon:
En la tumba de mi madre In the tomb of my mother
a dar voces me ponia, I started shouting,
y escuché un eco del viento; and I heard an echo on the wind;
no la llames, me. decia, do not call her, it sighed,
que no responden los muertos. the dead do not respond.
Aquella campana triste The mourning bell
estéd dando la. una; tolled one;
hasta las dos estoy pensando until two I thought
en el querer que me distes,; of the love that you gave me,.
y me dan las tres llorando... as tt tolled three I was crying...

Malaguefias of Enrique el Mellizo:

éDénde va a llegar Where is it leading tus,
este querer tuyo y mio? this love of ours?
Té tratas de aborrecerme, You wish to destroy me,
yo cd vez te quiero mas; and each day I love you more,
Ayy que Dios me mande a mila Ayy that God send me death...
[muerte...

. Malaguefias credited to Juan Breva:.

Los siete sabios de Grecia The seven wise men of Greece
no saben lo que yo sé... don’t know as much as I...
las fatigustas y el tiempo anguish and time
me lo hicieron aprender... have made me learn...
j4yy! Maresita del Carmen, Ayy! Virgin of the Carmen,
que pena tan grande es what suffering tt is

121
estar juntito del agua to be so near the water
y no poderia beber... and not be able to drink...
MARIANAS.—Cante and toque chico, not danced.
Like so many cantes, the Marianas are a descendent of the Fan-
dangos Grandes. They have developed a rhythm reminiscent of the
Tientos, although they are actually a free cante without a well-defined
compds. They are believed to have been originally created by a singer
of the last century as a love song for his swectheart, Mariana.
Another theory exists which claims that Mariana was the name of
a performing monkey. Several verses arc still sung that support this
theory, but it is nevertheless considered unlikely.
Nadte murmure de nadie, No one should talk badly about any-
[one
que somos de carne humana, as we are all of human flesh,
y no hay pellejo de aceite and there is no flesh
que no tenga su botana. that is not marred.
Los hombres, para ser hombres, Men, to be true men,
ha de tener tres partias: have to have three virtues:
hacer mucho, y hablar poco, accomplish much, talk litle,
vy no alabarse en su via. and never praise themselves.
St quieres que yo a ti te quiera =If you want me to love you
que ponme fianzas; give me guarantees;
de tu querer no me fio, your love I don’t trust,
carne de mi carne, flesh of my flesh,
porque eres muy falsa. because you are very false.

MARTINETES.—Cante grande ’’a palo seco’’, neither danced nor

played. |
When the gypsies were driven off of the open road, many of them
entered iron forges and became blacksmiths. Frustrated by their desire
to roam and of the hard life to which they had been subjected, they
poured out their souls in song while they hammered away at their work.
Thus the Martinetes of the forges were derived from the Tonds of the
open road. OS
The Martinetes, probably first developed in the forges of Triana,
are extremely difficult to interpret, as they take great physical and
emotional capacity. They are often accompanied, generally with no

122
 attempt at compds (in modern times the compds of the Siguiriyas is
sometimes used), by a blacksmith’s hammer. The word ’’martinete’’
is said to have been derived from ’’martillo’’ — hammer.
The two types of Martinetes still sung are the ’’natural’’, and the
**redoblao’’, longer and more difficult.
The 19th century singer, Juan Pelao, of Triana, is still remembered
as the ’’king of the Martinetes’’.

Entre la Hostia y el Cali, As I took the sacred Bread and

[Wine
a mi Dios se lo pedi, I asked my God
que no te ajoguen las fatigas not to permit misery to choke you
como me ajogan a mi. as tt chokes me.

Asi, como estd la fragua, Like the forge,

jecha candela de oro, my insides glow like gold
se me ponen las entrainas when I remember you,
cuando te recuerdo, y lloro. and I weep.

Con las fatiguitas de la muerte With the weariness of death

aun laito yo me arrimé; I crept to one side;
con los dettos de la mano with the fingers of my hand
araiaba la pared... I tore at the wall...

MEDIA GRANAINA.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.

The Media Granaina is very similar to its mother cante, the Gra-
naina, although less difficult to interpret. Like the Granaina, it has
absorbed a strong blend of Moorish and Gypsy influences. Today the
Media Granaina is probably more widely sung than the Granasna. Both
of these cantes are from the province of Granada. ’’Media’’ translates
*half’’.

Gitaniya como yo Another gypsy girl lke myself

no la tienes que encontrar you will never find
aunque gitana se vuelva although all Cristianity
totta la cristtandad... turns gypsy...

Dejarme un momento solo, Leave me alone a moment,

quiero hartarme de Worar; I wish to satiate my crying;
déjame que ponga unas flores Let me put some flowers

123
@ esa tumba tan sagrd, on that tomb so sacred,
recuerdo de mis amores... memory of my loves...
Ya te tengo prepara, I have prepared for you
pd cuando quieras veni, for whenever you want to come,
una cuevecita nueva a new little cave
jecha en el Albaicin. in the hill of the Albaicin.
(near Granada).
Quiero vivir en Grand I wish to live in Granada
porque me gusta el oir because I like to hear
la campana de La Vela the bell of La Vela
cuando me voy a@ dormir... ‘when I go off to’ sleep...
La que habita en la carrera, The Virgen of Anguish,
la Virgen de las Angustias, she who lives in the carrera,
de esa sehora me espante may she punish me
si no te quiero de veras, if I don’t truly love you.
MEDIO POLO.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
The Medio Polo is a simplified adaptation of the Polos, easier to
sing, and not as joxdo in nature. It is said to have been developed, like
the Media Granina and the Soleariya, by singers who did not have the
capacity to sing the mother cante. Nevertheless, it can be a very moving
cante, and is still in the grande category. It is rhythmically identical to
the Poles and the Soleares. ’’Medio’’ translates ’’half’’.
Hasta la calumnia mata ‘ Slander can even cause death
si va contra una mujé, if said about a woman;
que no hay veneno mds malo there is no worse poison
que el que da gusto bebé... than that which gives pleasure to
[dvink...
MILONGAS.—Andalucian folklore.
The Milongas, thought to have originated in Argentina, were
brought to Spain by retuming conquistadores four centuries ago. They
are similar to the Colombianas, although they have a changeable com-
pds; sometimes free, sometimes well-defined. In time, the Milongas
will probably be considered flamenco chico, as their cante and toque
are flamenco in nature. They are not generally danced.

Cuando siento una guitarra When I hear a guitar

me da ganas de llorar, I feel the urge to cry,

124
porque me. acuerdo de Espatia because I remember Spain,
la tierra por mi sotada. the land of my dreams.
Y en la noche elara - In the clear night
hasta el aire canta, even the air sings,
y de una garganta and from a throat
yQ creo escuchar I can almost hear
palabras de amores words of love
muy junto a una reja; pass through barred windows;
suspiros y quéjas sighs and murmurs
y un beso al chocar... and a kiss through the bars...

These .are obviously the sentiments of a homesick Spanish im-

migrant in America.
jMe gustas mds que el buen vino I like you more than good wine
y mds que un pavo trufao! and roast turkey!
iMds que me gusta el tabaco And more than tobacco
y que estar siempre tumbao! and just lazing around!
jCon decirte que me gustas I tell you that I like you
mds que el acta a un diputao! more than a lawyer likes court!
jY eso que eres un tonel. And this, even though you're a
[barrel
y tu cutis se ha arrugao!... and. your skin ts all wrinkles’...
Mas no sé que gracia tienes I don’t really know what charm
mi qué tienen tus traseras you and your buttocks have,
que te miro y me parece that when I look at you tt seems
que me das adormideras... you've given me opium...
This immigrant seems to be better adjusted.
MINERAS.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.
The Mineras are very similar to the Cartageneras, Tarantas, and
the Murcianas, all cantes of the mines, created amid the sweat and toil
of the miners of Levante. They can be very moving when interpreted
properly. They are a free cante, without a determined rhythm.

No se. espante usted, seiiora, Don’t be frightened, sesora,

que 6S uN minero quien canta; it’s just a. miner singing;
con el jumo de las. minas with the smoke of the mines
tiene rosca la garganiz... his uotce has turned hoarse...
En diciendo jgente ar torno! In saying, line up to enter!
todos los mineres tiemblan all of the miners tremble
al vé que tienen su via to see that their fate
a voluntd de una cuerda. hinges on a rope.

MIRABRAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.

The Mirabrds were undoubtedly inspired by the Alegrias or a si-
milar cante, as the compds and many other characteristics are identical.
A mi que me tmporta What does it matter to me
que un rey me culpe whether a king pardons me
si el pueblo es grande if the country is large
y me adora... and the people believe in me...
This verse had led theoreticians to consider the possibility that the
creator of the Mirabrds was a nobleman, or person of the upper classes,
persecuted by the king.
Venga usté a mi puesto, hermosa,
y no se vaya usté, salero,
castafas de Galarosa vendo, camuesa y pero.
Ay Marina,
yo traigo naranjas y son de la China,
batatitas redondas y suspiros de canela,
melocotones de Ronda, agua de la neveria;
te quiero yo
como ala mare que me pario...

Come to my stand, beautiful,

don’t go away, salero;
I sell sweet and sour apples
and chestnuts from Galarosa;
I have China oranges,
little round yams and cinnamon sweets,
peaches from Ronda and water like ice.
Ay Marina, I love you
as I loved my mother who gave me birth.
This verse reveals the technique used by the owner of a stand in at-
tempting to entice Marina with the delicacies that he sells. It has in-
spired the theory that the Mirabrds came into being when José el de
Sanlicar, a 19th century banderillero, first saw the many colorful stands

126
of delicacies that used to rim the Madrid bull ring. He is said to have
put his verses to the music of a Cantifia called ’’E] Almorano’’, and
the Mirabrds came into existence.
MURCIANAS.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.
The Murcianas are one of the group of mining cantes of Levante,
which includes the Tarantas, Cartageneras, and the Mineras. Like all
of these mining cantes, the Murcianas have an Oriental, resigned air and
a discordant beauty Moorish in nature. They are a free cante with no
defined compds, the guitarist following the singer and utilizing basically
the chords of the other mining songs. The Murcianas are a rarely heard
cante, on the verge of disappearing. They are from the region of Murcia.

NANAS.—Cante and toque chico, not danced.

The Nanas are cradle songs, sung to the children at bedtime to lull
them to sleep. Cradle songs, of course, date back to the first mother
and her child, but the cradle songs of Andalucia, sung in a tender fla-
menco style, are especially irresistible. The compds of the Nanas is the
rhythm of a rocking cradle. ’’Nana’’ literally means ’’slumber song’,
’*grandmother’’, ’’wet nurse’’, or, less frequently, ’’mother.”’
Un dngel de canela A cinnamon angel
guarda tu cuna, watches over your crib,
la cabeza p’al sol, his head towards the sun,
los pies pd la luna... his feet towards the moon...
A dormir va Off to sleep goes
la rosa de los rosales; the rose of roses;
a dormir, nina, sleep, little girl,
porque ya es tarde... it is getting late...

El nifio chiquito The little baby

Se quiere dormir,
y el picaro sueto
no quiere venir...
Las mujeres de La Puebla,
para dormir a un chiquillo,
en. vez de llamar al coco,
le cantan un Fandanguillo...
wishes to sleep,
but the mischievous sandman
just won't come...
The women of La Puebla,
to lull a baby to sleep,
sing him a Fandanguillo
instead of calling the bogy man...

La Puebla is a small village in the province of Huelva.

127
Nana, nana, nana... ay... nana, Slumber song... ay... slumber song,
duérmete, lucerito de la sleep, little star of the
mafiana... MOTHiNg...
PALMARES.—Cante and toque chico, not danced.
- The Palmares are a cante of the country, still sung by the poor
country people as they slowly ride their burros to market or follow the
plow behind a pair of oxen. They are a simple and unassumingly lovely
cante, rarely heard away from the fields of Andalucfa. They are descend-
ed from the Serranas.
Tuve un pdjaro en la mano I had a bird in my hand
y se me escape un buen dia; and it escaped one good day;
si lo tuviera otra vez, if I had tt again
nunca se me escaparia. 1t would never escape.
The bird, in this case, is symbolic of any good thing, although
most probably of a lost love:
T% eres una veleta You are a weather vane
y ta maresita el viento, and your mother the fickle wind;
que sois un par de mujeres you are a pair of women
faltas de conocimiento. lacking all sense.
PETENERAS.—Cante, baile, and toque intermedio.
The legend goes that the Peteneras were created by a beautiful pros-
titute who was a great destroyer of men’s hearts, and who finally died
a violent death. She was named Ja Petenera, and was from the village
of Paterna, near Sevilla. The similarity of the names Paterna and Pete-
nera has caused some to think that the cante of the Peteneras got its
name through the mispronunciation of the word Paterna; this is general-
ly discredited. The Peteneras are a pure creation, quite dissimilar to all
other cantes. ’
When la Petenera was killed, the following verse became popular:
La Petenera se ha muerto, La Petenera has died '
y la llevan a enterrar, and they are taking her to be buri-
. (ed;

y en el pantedn no cabe all of the followers of the proces-

[sion
la gente que va detrds... will not fit into the mausolewm...
Other popular verses:

128
Ven acd, remedsaora, Come here, girl of remedies,
y remedia mis dolores, and remedy my affliction;
que estd sufriendo mi cuerpo my body is suffering
una enfermed de amores... the sickness of longing...
Al pie de un drbol sin fruto At the foot of a fruitless tree
me puse a considerar I sat down to contemplate
qué pocos amigos tiene how few friends one has
el gue no tiene que dar... who has nothing to give...
éDénde vas, bella judia, Where are you going, beautiful
[ Jewess,
tan compuesta y a deshora? after hours and so fixed up?
Voy en busca de Rebeco, I go looking for Rebeco,
que esté en una sinagoga... who 1s in a synagogue...

La Petenera was out after hours, which was unheard of in Spain

for women a few years ago. When questioned, she gives a flippant
answer. This verse has led theorists to believe that La Petenera was
Jewish.
PLAYERAS.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
The Playeras are traditionally the most plaintive form of the Si-
guiriyas, derived from the verb ’’plafir’’ (to mourn, grieve, bewail).
Exeept for the content of their verses, they are identical to the Siguiri-
yas; in modern times a distinction between them is rarely made.
It is said that the Playeras were originally a cante of mourning,
sung during the procession to the graveyard, and at the grave-site itself.
Tt is curious to note that professional mourners were often hired who
had a knowledge of the songs and rituals of mourning, and who inter-
preted them movingly and well. This burial singing may well have been
the earliest manifestation of flamenco on a professional level.
Me faltaba entereza: I lost all reason:
yo sdlo vela I only saw
que era la mujer a quien adoraba that the woman I adored
la que se moria. was dying.
Anhelaba vivir I longed to hve
por verte y o#rie; to see you and hear you;
ahova.que no te veo ni te ogo, now that you're not here,
breftero morirme. I prefer to die.

II
El carro e los muertos The cart of the dead
pasé por aqul; passed by;
como Levaba la manita fuera I recognized her
yo la conodl... by her dangling hand...
From ’’The Venta de Los Gatos’’, by Becquer. This verse tells of
the tragic end of denied love, in which a boy, unaware of the death of
his forbidden sweetheart, recognizes her by her hand protruding through
an opening in the funeral cart. The boy, so the story goes, went insane
from grief. The singer Silverio made this verse famous over a century
ago, shortly after the tragedy occurred.
No quiero que se entere I don’t want her to know,
quien sdlo era mia, she who was only mine,
que en mis profundos suspiros that in my profound sighs for her
[por ella
se me va la via... my life is wafting away...
Si te enteras que he muerio, If you hear of my death,
pide a Dios por mt, pray to God for me;
pues de ese modo, en la otra vida if you do this, in the other life
yo pediré por ti. I shall pray for you.
En el mundo las luchas In this world there is a
que hay entre la gente son siem- continuous struggle between the
[pre grandes, [people,
y no vence en ellas el justo, the triumphant being the strong,
y st el fuerte... not the just...
POLICANA.—A completely forgotten cante that combined the Polos
and the Cafias, the Policafia was significant in the development of the
Soleares.
POLOS.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
The Polos and the Cafias are known to be the oldest, most primitive
cantes in flamenco, the very roots of the cante jondo. They were in-
spired by religious songs and chants centuries ago. The Soleares is their
direct descendent, far surpassing both the Polos and the Cafas in present
day popularity. The compds of the three are identical, as are many
other of their characteristics, although the structure of their cantes
varies considerably. Only the true purists have maintained a close rela-
tionship with the Polos, and there are consequently few singers who
interpret them properly today.

190
 -. With the present revival of the canie grande the Polos have again
become a bread winner, a necessity for the ’’complete’’ cantaor, and
they are becoming increasingly popular in circles that have only the
vaguest idea of their traditional content. Only too frequently the Polos
and the Ca#as are sung with a rapidity, lack of expression, and rhyth-
mical emphasis that makes them sound more like cantes chicos; another
indication that flamenco in many ways has to slow down and again
learn to walk.
The Polos are usually ended with a difficult macho. Dance arrange-
ments and guitar falsetas can be, and usually are, used interchangeably
between the Polos, the Cafas, and the Soleares, as well as the Medio
Polo and the Soleariya. In my opinion, the Polos, as interpreted today,
is one of the least jondo of the cantes grandes, but with the inherent
qualities of rising again to its former level.
The Polos most sung today are those of an 18th century singer
known as Tobalo.

Tottos le piden a Dios Everyone asks God

la salud y la libertad, for health and freedom,
y yo le pido la muerte I ask for death
y no me la quiere mandar... and he will not grant it...

Mi caritio
me tiene conmosionao,
sin sabé lo que me pasa...
loro y tiemblo como un nifio
por th...
My love
has me all muddled up
beyond my understanding...
I tremble and cry lke a little boy
for you...

Si el queré era bueno o malo I asked a wise man

aun sabio le pregunté; if love is good or bad;
el sabio no habia querio the wise man had never loved
y. no supo respondé. and knew not how to respond,

Clérigos y confesores, Clergymen and confessors,

obispos y ‘cardenales, bishops and cardinals,
en la hora de mori in the hour of death
todos seremos iguales. we shall all be equals.
This verse indicates the only consolation left to the poor people...
equality after death. It will be interesting to see if it works out that way.

13]
ROAS.—Gypsy ceremonial dance and song, not generally considered
flamenco.
The Rods are a song and dance which have been conserved from
an ancient gypsy religious (mystic) ceremony. They are believed to
have been brought by the gypsies from the Far East, and to be a des-
cendent of one of the primitive rituals such as sun, moon, or wind
worship. The Rods is an abbreviation of ’’rodadas’’ (to wander about,
to roll), which is thought to have resulted from the constant wandering
of gypsy caravans. The Rods are usually accompanied with tambouri-
nes, and the dance and caste are accomplished by an entire circle of
gypsies simultaneously. In Spain this ceremony is practiced mainly in
the Granada area; outside of Spain the Rods, by a different name, are
said to be practiced by gypsies in Hungary, Yugoslavia, France, and
in other countries where gypsies are found.
ROMERAS.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
The Romeras, a variation of the Alegrias, were created in the last
century by a Café Cantante singer called Romero el Tito, a castaor
with a strong personality who left his stamp on many cantes. The Ro-
meras guard the same compds as the Alegrias, although their persona-
lity and style are quite different. Named after their creator, they are
presently being revived after having nearly disappeared.
Debajo de los laureles My little girl has her bed
tiene mi nina la cama, under the laurel trees,
y cuando sale la luna, and when the moon comes out,
la Hama... it calls her...
Romero el Tito’s Romeras were said to have been inspired by a
folk cante called ef Tornjos, from Sanlicar de Barrameda, near CAdiz.
RONDENA (TOQUE).—Toque intermedio, baile jondo, not sung.
The little known Rondefia differs completely from the Roxdefas,
which are a form of the lively Verdiales. The Rondefia is an emotional,
discordant togue, strangely reminiscent of the haunting mountain
country near Ronda (much of the discordant effect of the Rondefiia
is caused by the re-tuning of two of the strings of the guitar). It is said
to have been a toque of the bandolevos (bandits) of the rugged Sierra
near Ronda; Ramén Montoya is credited for developing it into the
complex toque that it is today. The Rondefia is not widely played, and
the first and only interpreters of the baile Rondefia, to my knowledga,

132
 are Luisa Maravilla and Carmen Amaya. It is rhythmically remindful
of the batle and toque Taranto. It can safely be said that the Roadefia
is one of the most beautiful of flamenco’s toques and bailes.
RONDENAS.—Cante and toque chico, group dance.
The Rondenas are the Verdiales of Mélaga removed to the rugged
mountain country of Ronda. They are a gay, optimistic cante, very
similar to the Verdiales in rhythm and temperament, but much less
frequently heard. The name ”’’rondefas’’ is generally believed to have
stemmed from *’rondar’’, to serenade, which would indicate that they
were originally songs for serenading.
[Rondenas vienen cantando! They come singing Rondefias!
Sobre la cama me siento, I sit on my bed to listen
porque en oyendo Rondenas because my thoughts become gaier
se me alegra el pensamiento... when I hear them...
Después de haberme Wevao After having spent
téa la noche de jarana the night in revelry
me. vengo a purificar I come to purify myself
debajo de tu ventana beneath your window
como si fuese un altar. as tf it were an altar.
Navegando me perdt Navigating I became lost
por esos mares de Dios, in God’s stormy seas,
y con la luz de tus ojos and with the light of your eyes
a puerto de mar sali. I found my way to port.
Vive tranquila, mujer, Live tranquilly, woman,
que en el corazon te llevo, because in my heart I carry you,
y aunque lejos de ti esté, and although I may be far from you
en otra fuente no bebo from another fountain I shan’t
[@rink
aunque me muera de sé... although I die of thrist...
ROSAS.—Cante and toque chico, baile intermedio.
The Rosas are a variation of the Alegrias, guarding exactly the
same compds and accentuation. They vary in the cante and in the
guitar chord structure utilized, and in the fact that the Rosas will usual-
ly be performed in a more jondo manner than the Alegrias while still
retaining the gaiety and wit of Cadiz. The term ’’Rosas’’ is falling into
disuse today, the distinction between the Rosas and the Alegries more

13
often being made by referring to the ’’Alegrias por bajo’’ (Alegrias) or
the ’’Alegrias por alto’’ (Rosas). The same verses and guitar falsetas are
often used for both the Rosas and the Alegrias, although traditionally
the Rosas should be more serious than the Alegrias in all ways.

RUMBA GITANA.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.

Borrowed from the Latin American rumba, the Rumba Gitana has
retained all of the sensuality and charm of its source in becoming fla-
menco’s sexiest dance. When danced well, it is certainly most sug-
gestive and gaily infectious while never having to resort to vulgarity.
The guitarist can actually use the slapping techniques of the Latin Ame-
rican guitarist, while inserting flamenco falsetas and rasgueado as de-
sired. The singing is gay and colorful. Rhythmically the Rumba is in
the family of the Tientos Canasteros and the Colombianas, although
varying in the accentuation. Two of its outstanding performers at present
are La Chunga and Manoli Vargas.

Hazme con los ojos senas Make signs to me with your eyes
que en algunas ocasiones for on many occasions
los ojos sirven de lengua... the eyes can speak...

Yo me la levé a mi casa, I took her to my house

se la presenté a mi gente, and presented her to my people;
y le pusieron corona they crowned her
por ser gitana decente. for being a decent gypsy.

El sol le dijo a la luna The sun told the moon,

*’apartate, bandolera, **g0 home, litile tramp,
que a las seis de la mafiana what is a single girl doing out
cqué hace una mujer soltera?’’ at six in the morning?’’

SAETAS.—Cante grande ’’a palo seco’’, neither danced nor played.

The Saetas are sung as worshipping chants to the figures of the
Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ during Holy Week religious processions.
Traces of the Saetas date back centuries, before they evolved as a part
of flamenco. In the mountain areas of Granada, especially, these early
Saetas are still remembered and sung in their original form, which is
less powerful and moving than present day Saetas, although perhaps
more lyrical. The flamenco Saetas are sometimes sung with a free
thythm, ‘other times to the compds of the Siguiriyas.

wm
 The Spanish Holy Week processions, with their corresponding Sae-
tas, have excited international interest. Barefoot penitents of each
church carry their Virgin Mary, or Christ, on heavy, richly-ornamented
platforms through the streets of the cities, followed by hundreds of
candle-bearing worshippers, also often barefoot, dressed in pointed
hoods, and capes. These, snail-like processions are marked by a band
monotonously repeating a religious type of march. At intervals the plat-
forms pause to rest and the band stops playing, which is the opportu-
nity for the singers to sing to Jesus and the Virgin. This is a very emo-
tional moment for the flamencos and the devout. In many Andalucian
towns, such as Sevilla, it has become traditional for the Saetas to be
sung by a particular saetero (singer of Saetas) from particular balconies.
Pepe Valencia, the famous Sevillanan saetero, each Holy Week day
frequents a pre-established balcony along the route of one or more pro-
cessions, under which huge crowds gather to hear him sing to the va-
Tious passing religious figures.
Many people prefer to spend at least part of Holy Week in a small
village, where the atmosphere is feverishly religious. It is customary in
many small towns to stage traditional medieval plays in the village plaza
which depict the biblical events of each day of Holy Week. In these
villages processions, on a minor scale, also take place, with the corre-
sponding singing of Saetas. Generally the villages achieve a more truly
religious atmosphere than the larger towns, as the towns and cities get
caught up in competitions between churches (who has the prettiest,
most richly-dressed and ornamented Virgin, the best processions, etc.),
and will attract milling crowds, many of whom are not the least religious
and will detract from the religious intensity of Holy Week by their ir-
reverent attitude and actions.
Saetas are sung of the suffering, death, and majesty of Jesus Christ,
and of the grief of the Virgin Mary.
Jazmines de luna nueva White lights of a new moon
le nacieron a la Cruz, shone like jasmine on the Cross,
y claveles, a la tierra and carnations covered the ground,
que echaron las manos buenas thrown by good hands
en la tumba de Jesus... on the tomb of Jesus...
Miralo por onde viene Look at him come
agobiao por er dold, bent with pain,

135
chorreando por las sienes
gotas de sangre y suor.
Y su mare de penita
destrosao er corazén.
Los judios te clavaron
por decir que té eras Dios,
que no quisieron creerlo,
como me lo creo yo...
Ayy una soga lleva en su gar-
[ganta,
que otra lleva en su cintura,
y otra en sus manos santas;
son tan fuertes liigaduras
que hasta las piedras quebranta
his brow dripping
with blood and sweat.
And his suffering mother
with her heart broken.
The Jews nailed you to the cross
for saying that you were God;
they did not wish to believe it,
as I myself do...
Ayy he has a rope around his
(throat,
and another around his waist,
and another around his saintly
[ hands;
they are tied so tightly
that they would crush rock...

And a simpdtica gypsy Saeta:

De las flores mds bonitas I am going to make a crown
voy a jacé una corona of the prettiest flowers
pa ponérsela a Maria, to put on Maria,
hermosisima paloma... beautiful dove...
SERRANAS.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
The Serranas ate said to be a cante of the smugglers who plied
their trade on the southern Mediterranean coast. When they had brought
in a large haul they would hide in caves in the nearby mountains for
lang periods of time; their cante thereby derived its name and mood
from the life of these smugglers and their compatriots, the bandoleros
(bandits), in the Sierra (the word ’’serrana’’ means ’’mountaineer’’,
"*people of the Sierra’). The Serranas have the same compds as the
Siguiriyas, although they are not considered quite as jondo. They are
often terminated by a macho, usually that of Maria Borrico, a cantaora
of the roth century. Outstanding interpreters of the Serranas include
Pepe Nijiez de Ja Matrona and el Pili.
Yo crié en mi rebano I brought up in my flock
una cordera, a lamb
de tanto acariciarla who turned vicious
se volvié fiera. from too much caressing.

495
Y las mujeres, And women,
contra mds se acarician the more they are pampered
fieras se vuelven... the more difficult they become...
No olvides nunca, Never forget,
que lo que mucho vale that which has much value
mucho se busca... is much sought after...
SEVILLANAS.—Andalucian folklore.
This gay rhythm, typical of Sevilla, was derived from the Segui-
dillas Manchegas, of Castille, in central Spain. The colorful dance,
danced by couples, and the cante are performed by all of Sevilla during
their annual week-long fair, considered the gaiest in Spain. It is a time
when traditional dress is donned, work is ignored, and the Sevillanas
are danced at all hours in the streets, bars, and wherever groups con-
gregate. One group of guitarists traditionally set themselves up in a
plaza of the typical neighborhood of Santa Cruz and offer their ac-
companiment to all, much to the delight of passing celebrants. Although
the Seusllanas are not considered flamenco, in time they probably will
be, as they definitely do play a part in the flamenco way of life. They
are so widely played that the toque is already considered a chico ele-
ment, although the cante and the baile are not.
Un moreno garboso A handsome dark boy
ronda mi calle paces my street
y dice que me quiere saying that he loves me
mds que a sk mare. more than his mother.
Esta es la via; But that’s life;
que aquel que mds promete he who promises the most
mas pronto olvia. forgets the quickest.
En el rio de amores In the river of love
nada una’ dama, a lady swims,
y.su amante en la onilla and from the edge her lover
Uora y la lama; weeps and cries to her:
jayy que te quiero! ayy how I love you!
y €omo no me pagas As you don’t return my love
de pena muero... I am dying...
A ms me gusia pegarte I like to hit you
sélo por verte Worar. just to see you cry.

187
éPara qué quiero Roray Why do I wish to cry
sit no tengo quien me otga? if there is no one to hear me?
SIGUIRIYAS GITANAS.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
Many aficionados, myself included, agree that the Sigutriyas (and
its twin, the Playeras) are the most moving, profoundly emotional ele-
ment of flamenco. That is, when they are performed with true feeling
and unfalsified emotion, for the Siguiriyas is a release of pentup hates,
persecution, denied liberty and love, tenderness towards a companion
-in-misery, and above all, of relentless, stalking death. I have seen and
heard the Siguiriyas performed in a way that makes one’s insides tighten
with a momentary glimpse of the world’s hopelessness and cruelty. Not
often, to be sure, and never in a commercial atmosphere. The truth is,
the Siguiriyas are completely out of atmosphere in commercial surround-
ings (like the Lord’s Prayer in the local gin mill). Usually the singer
toys with them in an unfeeling act, the guitarist is being busily virtuoso,
and the dancer contrives to destroy whatever emotion remains. Favorite
methods of abuse are ending the Siguiriyas with a fast Bulerias or a
Tientos Canasteros, and the use of castanets in the dance.
The compds of the Siguiriyas is identical to that of the Playeras,
Serranas, and the Livianas. It is an unusual compds, one of the most
difficult of flamenco, but, contrary to a popular belief, it is definite
and unvarying.
There is a special type of traditional Stgutriyas called the ’’Caba-
les’, which were created by el Fillo, a singer of the early roth century.
These are done more rapidly than the Siguiriyas, and with a slight var-
iation in the accentuation. The compds of the two is identical. ’’Cabal’’
translates ’’faultless’’, ’’perfect’’.
The Siguiriyas are often ended with a macho.
The most famous siguiriyeros of the past have been el Fillo, Sil-
verio, Tomas el Nitri, Manuel Cagancho, and Manuel Torte.
Cuando yo me muera, When I die
mira que te encargo I ask of you
que con la cinta de tu pelo negro to tie my hands
me amarres las manos... with the ribbon of your black hair...
This verse reflects a custom practiced in Andalucian villages of
tying the hands of the dead person together when preparing him for
burial.

138
No temo a la muerte,
mori es natura;
lo que siento es la cuenta tan
[grande
que a Dios voy a da.
Me asomé a la muraya,
me respondio er utento:
cpa qué das esos suspiros,
st ya no hay remedio?
Una noche e trueno
yo pensé mori,
como tenia una sombra negra
ensima e mi.
I’m not afraid of dying,
dying is natural;
what bothers me is the huge list of
[stuns
that I have to present to God.
I climbed to the top of the wall,
and the wind said to me:
what is the use of sighing
if there is no remedy?
One stormy night
I felt death
like a black shadow
upon me.

La muerte Uamo a voces, I cry for death

no quiere veni, but tt will not come,
que hasta la muerte tiene even death
lastima e mi. finds me unworthy.
No pegarle a mi pare, Don’t hit my father,
soltarlo por Dios, for God’s sake release him;
que ese delito que ustedes that crime of which you accuse him
[le acusan
lo habia hecho yo. I myself committed.
The Cabales of el Fillo:
Desde la Polverita From the Polverita
hasta Santiago to Santiago
las fatiguitas de la muerte the anguish of death
me arrodearon. surrounded me.

SOLEARES (SOLEA).—Cante, baile, and toque grande.

The word ’’soled’’ is a gypsy abbreviation of ’’soledad’’ ; the word
*’soleares’”’ is an improper gypsy pluralization of ’’soledad’’ (it should
be ’’soledades’’). Thus both ’’soleares’’ and "soled" signify the same
thing, ’’loneliness’’, and can be used interchangeably.
The Soleares have been described as the ’’mother of the Cante’’
because of the vast influence they have exerted in the art of flamenco.
Actually the Soleares do not have the deepest roots, they themselves

139
having descended from the Cafes and the Polos; but they have been
the dominating cante of flamenco since their inception centuries ago.
Today the Soleares are the most popularly performed component
of serious flamenco. They are capable of being extremely jondo when
properly done, on the level of the Siguiriyas, but, like the Stguiriyas,
they regrettably fall prey far too frequently to the commercialism of
present day flamenco. For instance, the Soleares have been beset with
light, even humorous verses for the cante, which would be far more ap-
propriate in the Tientos Canasteros or the Bulerias; this, in my opinion,
signifies a lack of true understanding among many present day flamen-
cos in their art, above all in the jomdo cantes. Another indication of this
lack of understanding is that the modern baile of the Soleares is nearly
always ended with a fast Bslerias, whicli destroys completely whatever
feeling may have been achieved. A baile such as the Soleares demands
to be ended by the Soleares; slowly, majestically, climaxing the mood
and the emotion that were built up throughout the dance.
The Soleares, like many of flamenco’s components, have a basic
twelve beat compds, which can be accentuated on the third, sixth,
eighth, tenth, and/or the twelfth beats.
The verses of the Soleares are usually in a more philosophical vein
(and therefore have less impact, and are less melancholy) than those
of the Siguiriyas.
Quisiera por ocasiones Sometimes I would lke
estar loco y no sentir, to be crazy and not feel,
que el ser loco quita penas, for being crazy takes away grief,
penas que no tienen fin. grief that has no solution.
Aquer que fue poca cosa He who was no one
y que cosa llega a ser, and becomes someone
quiere ser tan grande cosa wishes to be the biggest someone,
que no hay cosa como él. bigger than all the rest.
Son las Soleares The Soleares are
el lamento aciago the miserable lament
de un alma que egrita sus penas of a broken soul
[mds hondas
partida en pedazos... crying tts deepest suffering...
La muerte a mi cama vino Death came to my bedside
y no me quiso llevd; but did not wish to take me,

140
no estaba cumplio mi sino as my destiny was not complete;
y al irse me eché a lord. on its departure I began to weep.
Estoy viviendo en el mundo I am living in the world
con la esperanza perdia; devoid of hope,
no es menester que me entierren, it is not necessary to bury me,
porque estoy enterra en via. as I am buried alive.
Cuando murié la Sarneta When la Sarneta died
la esowuela quedé serra her school was lost
porque se llevé la lave because she took with her
del cante por Soled, the secret of the Soled.
This verse became popular after the death of a famous cantaora,
Merced la Sarneta. The ’’school’’ refers to her style of Soled.
SOLEARIYA.—Cante, baile, and toque grande.
Like the Media Granaina and the Medio Polo, the Soleariya was
created by those who did not have the talent, or the inclination, to sing
the mother cante in its more difficult purity.
The Soleariya (Solearilla) is almost identical to another form of
the Soleares called the Soled Corta (Short Soled). Both of these forms
consist of three line verses rather than the four line verse characteristic
of the Soleaves. They differ only in that the first line of a Soleariya
verse is extremely brief, while the corresponding line of the Soledé Corta
is of normal length.
The compds and accentuation of both of these forms are identical
to the Soleares, although they are sometimes performed at a faster
tempo.
Lo gitano That which is Gypsy
va en la masa de la sangre is found in the surge of blood
y en las rayas de las manos. and in the grooves of hands.
Por tu vera I pass by your side day and night
paso de noche y de dia, searching for my mate
buscando mi compaiera... without recognizing you...
Por ti I pass the hours of the mght
las horitas de la noche without sleep
me las paso sin dormir. because of you.
The above .three verses are characteristic of the Soleaviya because
of ‘their short first line. The following verses are Soleds Cortas.

141
Ts calle ya no es tu calle, Your street is no longer your street;
que es una calle cualquiera, it is any street
camino de cualquier parte. anywhere.
Voy como si fuera preso; I go as a prisoner;
detrds camina mi sombra, behind me my memories,
adelante, mi pensamiento. ahead, my thoughts.
The two above verses are said to have been created in the last cen-
tury by a gypsy whose wife died during the birth of her first child.
No siento en el mundo mds Nothing saddens me more
que tener tan mal sonio, than I, being of such good metal,
siendo de tan buen metal. having such a bad sound.
Le dijo el tiempo al querer: Time said to Love:
"esa soberbia que tienes "I shall destroy
yo te la castigaré.’’ this conceit that you have.’”
Ay pobre corazon mio... Ay my poor heart...
por mds gorpes que le doy despite all of the bad times that I
[give you
nunca se da por vensio... you never give up...
TANGUILLO.—Andalucian folklore.
The Tangutlo (little Tango) is considered by many as Andalucian
folklore, outside of flamenco, and by others as a chico component. It
is a cross between the Tientos Canasteros (Tangos Flamencos) and the
Rumba Gitana. Those who consider it as non-flamenco are justified, as
the cante has few of the characteristics of good cante chico, and is
usually sung in a popular vein. The baile and the toque, on the other
hand, are more flamenco in nature. The Tangssllo has a mischievous,
airy rhythm, an innocent sensuality (unlike the provocative Rumba
Gitana), and a lack of any attempt at depth (unlike the Tientos Canas-
teros). The Tanguillo was developed in CAdiz from the Tientos Ca-
nasteros. ,
Nitia, asémate a la reja Nifia, come to your balcony,
que te tengo que decir, I want to whisper something
un recadito a la oreja. im your ear.
El recadito consiste The message ts
que no te quiero ni ver that I want io lose you from sight,

142
que los besos que me diste and that I’ve only come to return
te los vengo a devolver... the kisses you gave me...

TARANTAS.—Cante and toque intermedio, not danced.

The Tarantas are a cante created by the miners of the last century,
who set up camp in the mountains near Cartagena (Levante) to find
riches. Unlike the gold rush in the United States, very few of these
miners found more than backbreaking labor, hunger, and a premature
death. The Tarantas were born amidst, and reflect, this atmosphere;
they are despairing, void of hope, resigned.
The Tarantas are similar to the Cartageneras, Mineras, and Mur-
cianas in feeling and construction, and, like them, are a free cante,
without a defined compds. They are a descendent of the Fandangos
Grandes, with a definite discordant Arabic influence.
Clamaba un minero asi A miner cried out
en el fondo de una mina; in the bottom of a mine;
jAyy en que soled me encuentro! ayy what loneliness I have!
y en mi compafia un candil and although I have a lamp
y yo la salia no encuentro. I cannot find my way out.
Dices que te llamas Laura, You say that you are Laura,
Laura de nombre, that Laura is your name,
si no eres de los laureles, but you're not of the laurels,
que los laureles son firmes. for the laurels are firm.
TARANTO.—Cante and toque intermedio, baile grande.
The Taranto is the danceable form of the Tarantas. Unlike the
Tarantas, which have no set compds, the Taranto has a steady, beating
compds similar to a slow Zambra. Its cante and toque are very similar
to the Tarantas in construction. The dance of the Taranto is majestic
and jondo, with great opportunities for expression due to its discordant
Arabic beauty. Its baile is relatively new, having been danced for the
first time less than ten years ago (I believe by Pilar Lépez). Most of its
present day dance interpreters have a tendency to underestimate the
emotional potentiality of the Taranto; they insist on dancing it too
rapidly and commercially, much like they dance the Zambra, and they
are consequently at odds with the somber mood set by the cante and
the toque (this is, of course, the principal objection to all of the basles
grandes as danced today).

143
TEMPORERAS.—Cante and toque chico, not danced.
A descendent of the Serranas, the Temporeras are a country cante
that originated around the area of Cabra, near Cérdoba. They have the
peculiarity of being sung by various people in a group taking tums,
each singing a different verse. The originating voice calls ’’voy’’ (I
begin) ; when he ends, another singer calls ’’voy’’ and sings; this goes
on until they have all sung, and finally the originating singer armounces
’*fuera’’ (out), and sings the last verse. The Temporeras, nearly disap-
peared, are very similar to the Fandanguiilos.
Las uvitas de tu parra The grapes of your vine
estdn diciendo comerme, are asking to be eaten,
pero los pdmpanos dicen but the vine leaves warn
que viene el guarda, that the watchman is coming.
que viene... 1S COMING...
Los surcos de ms besana The furrows of my land
estan llenos de terrones, are full of mounds,
y tu cabeza, serrana, and your head, mountain gil,
esté ena de slusiones, is full of illusions,
pero de ilusiones vanas. but vain illusions.
This verse, originally a 7emporera, is often sung presently as a
Fandanguillo.
TIENTOS ANTIGUOS.—Cante and toque intermedio, baile grande.
The Tientos Antiguos are very similar to a slow Tientos Canasteros,
so much so that few flamencos presently distinguish between them. This
has caused the Tientos Antiguos to nearly fall into disuse. The true
Tientos Antiguos have a singular, intricate accentuation which gives
them a personality and feeling quite unlike the Tientos Canasteros.
When done properly they approach the true jondo, as can be observed
in their excellent interpretation by Nifio de Almadén and Perico el del
Lunar in the Westminster Anthology. The dance of the Tsentos is ma-
jestic and sensuous. They are said to have been developed by the gyp-
sies of the Puerto Santa Marfa-Cadiz region, the great cantaoy el Marru-
tro generally credited with their early development.
éQué pdjaro serd aquel What bird would that be
que canta en la verde oliva? that sings in the green olive grove?
Corre y dile que se calle, Run and tell him to be quiet,
que su cante me lastima... as his song saddens me...

144
 Yo no le cnitico a nadie I cannot criticize anyone
que.le domine el queré, who is dominated by love,
porque a mi me estd dominando, because I myself am dominated
y wo me puedo valer. beyond help.
Te voy a meter en un convento I am going to put you in a convent
que tenga rejas de bronce, that has heavy bronze bars,
que la gente no te vea, so that people cannot see you
ma la ropita te toque... nor touch your clothing...
Tu serds mi prenda querida You will be my cherished belonging,
t% serds el pdjaro cuqui the cucu bird
que alegre canta de madrugada; that happily sings at dawn;
Ayy lo que yo te quiero, ayy how I love you,
csin ti mt via pa que la quiero? without you why would I want to
[kve?

TIENTOS CANASTEROS (TANGOS FLAMENCOS).—Cante, baile,

and toque chico.
_ The Tientos Canasteros are a gay, contagious example of the spirit
of Cadiz. They are optimistic and full of life; combined with a few
glasses of wine, they are a true remedy for all ailments. The Tientos
Canasteros are also called the Tangos Flamencos, perhaps because they
were influenced to some extent by the Argentine Tangos. The word
**canasteros’’ translates ’’basket makers’’, which causes theorists to
suppose an original connection between the Tientos Canasteros and the
gypsy basket weavers of the province of Cadiz. Their verses are almost
always gay, the dance lively and sensuous, and the guitar driving and
rhythmical.
iCon el ay, caray, caray! With an ay, caray, caray!
Mirusté que fiestas — Just think of the fiestas
va a haber en Cai. that Cddiz is going to have.
Luego, qué. jambre And afterwards, the hunger
se va a pasé... that will come...
Ay, caray, caray, card... Ay, caray, caray, card...

Las fiestas de mt tierra The fiestas of my land

son .de canela, are of cinnamon,
y esté el Ayuntamiento and the City Hail
de enhorabuena. is to be congratulated.

145
12
Cuatro casas tengo en Londres, I have four houses in London
que me las dejé mi tia, that my aunt left me,
y rventan cuatro millones and they rent for four millions of
[money
de dinero tds los dfas. every day.
Si alguna vez vas por Cd If you are ever in Cddiz
pasa por barrio Santa Maria, go to the Barrio Santa Maria,
y alli verds los gitanos and there you will see how the gyp-
[stes
como se batlan por Alegrias. dance the Alegrias.
Dolores, Dolores, Dolores, Dolores,
¢con qué te lavas la cara what do you wash your face with
que tanto te huele a flores? that it smells so much of flowers?
Peinate tu& con mis peines Comb yourself with my comb
que mis peines son de aztcar; as it is made of sugar;
quien con mis peines se peine, if you use my comb
hasta los deos se chupa. you will end up sucking your fin-
gers.
TIRANAS.—A cante very similar to the Malaguefias, now completely
forgotten.
TONAS.—Cante grande ’’a palo seco’’, neither played nor danced.
Originally the Tonds (Tonadas) were songs relating stories and
events, which were sung by wandering gypsies and minstrels from vil-
lage to village. When the gypsies were driven off of the roads, they took
the Tonds with them into blacksmiths’ forges, with the resultant devel-
opment of the Martinetes of the forges, a form similar to the Tonds.
The Deblas and the Carceleras are also off-spring of the Tonds. The
original story-telling Tonds have nearly disappeared, although there are
still a few wandering minstrels in Extremadura (near Portugal) and in
central Spain who sing cantes thought to be very similar to the ancient
Tonds. The flamenco Tonds have developed into a profound jondo can-
te, one of the most difficult of flamenco, interpreted well by very few
cantaores. They are completely devoid of a compds, and are not ac-
companied.
It is said, probably exaggeratedly, that there were at one time
some thirty types of Tonds. Now only three are remembered: the To-
nds Grande, the Tonds Chica, and the Tonds del Cristo.

146
Ayy no te rebeles, gitana, Ayy do not fight it, gypsy girl,
yo tengo hecho juramento I have sworn
de pagarte con la muerte. to pay you with death.
Vinteron y me dijeron que tu They came and told me
habia hablao mal de mi, that you have talked badly of me;
y mira mi buen pensamiento and imagine my former opinion of
[yor
que no lo creia en ti. that I didn’t think you capable of it.
This verse reflects a normally violent gypsy reaction.
O pare de almas y minisiro de O father of souls and minister of
[Cristo, [Christ,
tronco de nuestra iglesia santa _—iheart of our saintly church
y drbol del paraiso. and tree of paradise.
This verse may reflect the contrition felt by the gypsy after his
impetuous act.
TRILLERAS.—Cante and toque chico, not danced.
The Trilleras are a song of the country, traditionally of the wheat
grinders. In Spain the ancient method of grinding wheat is still used,
which consists of a man ,seated on a small platform resting on shining
blades of steel, being pulled by two horses round and round over the
wheat spread on the ground. While this monotonous process goes on
hour after hour, the rider may divert himself singing the Trileras to
the compds of the beating hooves. His song is joyful and optimistic,
and his verses‘are usually piropos (flatteries) to his horses, his girl, some-
one else’s girl, his village, the sun and the birds...

De rosas y claveles Your mouth fills

y de alhelies with roses and carnations
se te Wena la boca and jasmine
cuando te ries. . when you laugh...
Ya no se llaman. dedos The fingers of your hands
los de tus manos, are not like fingers,
que se aman claveles they are more like
de cinco en ramos... a bouquet of five carnations...
Que mula, vamos a ver, What a mule, geee, git up...
a esa mula.de punta le gusta el that one up in front that likes grain
[grano, [so mech,

147
aligera y "o comas Gee now and hurry, don’t eat any
[morel
que viene el amo... Here. comes the boss...
Esa yegua lumanca tiene un po- That spotted mare has a little colt
[érsto
con una, pata blanca with one white hoof
y un lucerito; and a star on his forehead;
bueno... buenooooo... bueno... woa... woooa...
VERDIALES.—Cante and toque chico, group dance.
The Verdiales are a gay, lively version of the Malaguefias, tradi-
tionally accompanied by guitars, tambourines, violins, and other crude
instruments. They are the fair dance of Mdlaga, sung and danced by
groups during all festive occasions, much like the Sevillanas in Sevilla.
Their cante is deceptively difficult, considering that it is cante chico.
They have only recently been extensively played as a guitar solo.
Yo soy de la Trina... I am from Trinidad...
Viva Mdlaga, mi tterra Long live Mdlaga, my land,
el huerto de los claveles, home of carnations
y eb puente de Tetudn...! and the bridge of Tetudn...!
La Trinidad is a neighborhood in MA4laga.
Quien te pudiera traer, That I could carry you,
pueblo de los Verdiales, city of the Verdiales,
metido en la faliriquera in my pocket
como un pliego de papel. like a folded piece of paper.
The ’’city of the Verdiales’’ refers to Malaga.
VITO, ef (Anda Jaleo).—Andalucian folklore.
The Vito is an old Andalucian folksong which was revived by the
poet Federico Garcia Lorca and adapted to flamenco. If it becomes re-
cognized as flamenco, it will be a chico element. It has the compds of
the Bulerias. ‘
Yo me subi a un pino verde I climbed a green pine
por ver si la divisaba to see if I could spot her,
y sdlo divisé al polvo and all I saw was the duet
det coche que la Nevada. of the carriage that careied her
[eway.

148
Anda jaleo, jaleo; Anda jaleo, jaleo;
ya se acabé el alboroto that ends the hullabaloo
y ahora empieza el tiroteo. and now starts the shooting.
En la calle de los Muros In the street of the Ramparts
mataron a una paloma. they killed a dove.
Yo cortaré con mis manos With my hands I shall cut
las flores de su corona. the flowers for her crown.
Anda jaleo, jaleo; Anda jaleo, jaleo;
ya se acabé el alboroto that ends the hullabaloo
y ahora empieza el tiroteo. and now starts the shooting.
The dove in this verse is thought to be the speaker’s sweetheart.
ZAMBRA.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
The Zambra is similar rhythmically to the Tientos Canasteros,
although it is usually performed in a slower, more sensual manner. It
is a creation of the gypsies of Granada, who remain its major exponents.
When performed properly in the atmosphere of a cave illuminated by
firelight and shining copper, the Zambra can be a very exciting expe-
rience. The outstanding Zambra performer at present is generally agreed
to be Teresa Maya.
No te metas con la Adela, Don’t. provoke Adela
la Adgla gasta cuchillo for Adela has a knife
pa.quien se meta con ella. for whomever meddles with. her.
Que nos miren desde el puente, Let them goggle us from the bridge
y que la envidia nos siga, with all of their envy;
que queriéndonos té y yo, as long as we love each other,
deja que la gente diga. who cares what people say.
Gitana si me quisieras Gitana if you should love me
yo te compraria en Grand I would buy you in Granada
la mejor cueva que hubiera. the best cave ever.
Vente conmigo y haremos Come with me and we'll make
una chozita en eb campo. a little hut.in the country
y en ella nos meteremos. and there we'll stay.

ZAPATEADO.—Baile intermedio, toque chico, not sung.

..The Zapateado is a virtuoso dance strictly for showing off footwork.
It. was. originally. a man’s dance, but has been adopted by bailaoras in

149
recent years to the extent that it is now considered a necessary compo-
nent of both the male and the female repertoire. For this dance the fe-
male usually dons tight-fitting men’s ranchwear (traje corto, boots, Cor-
dobés hat, ruffled shirt), or less frequently, women’s ranch wear (a
traje corto with a long slit skirt instead of pants, boots, Cordobés hat,
ruffled shirt). In my opinion the development of the female Zapateado
has contributed a great deal to the decadence of the feminine dance.
The baslaor can make the Zapateado a virile, exciting dance; the bai-
laora merely demonstrates the results of hours of practice.
The Zapateado is danced by both the male and the female in a
rigid attitude, grasping with both hands the bottom of their traje corto
jacket throughout most of the dance.
The guitarist plays a difficult accompanying role in the Zapateado,
as he should follow to perfection the stops, starts, and accentuations of
the intricate footwork. Usually the arrangement between the dancer
and the guitarist is worked out in advance. Recently guitar solos have
also been developed for the Zapateado by concert guitarists in their
effort to increase the scope of the flamenco guitar. Rhythmically it is
played in the compas of the Tanguillo, although with a more stern ap-
proach, and utilizing a different set of chords. The music itself was
derived from the classical composition of the Spanish composer Sara-
sate, although personal improvisations are extensively used.
The three most famous Zapateados (arrangements of footwork)
are those of Sarasate, Estampfo, and Monreal, although most Zapatea-
dos that you will see danced by good dancers will be their own arrange-
ments, as again, flamenco is not an art-of imitation.
El Raspao, a dancer of the roth century, and more recently the
late Estampfo, have been two legendary interpreters and developers of
the Zapateado.
ZORONGO GITANO.—Cante, baile, and toque chico.
The Zorongo Gitano was created by the gypsy poet Federico Gar-
cia Lorca, and has only recently been included in the flamenco reper-
toire. It consists of two distinct rhythmical sections. It verses are very
gypsy and symbolic, and its major interpreters are gypsies.
La luna es un pozo chico, The moon is a little well,
las flores no valen nada, flowers are worth nothing;
lo que valen son tus brazos what ts of value are your arms
cuando de noche me abrazan... when at night they embrace me...

150
 This verse is the theme of the Zorongo, carrying the compds of a
slow, sensual Tientos Canasteros, and is repeated alternately after each
of the following verses:
Las manos de mi caritio My loving hands
te estén bordando una capa are embroidering a cloak for you
con agremdn de alhelies with the cape of jasmine
y con esclavina de agua. and the collar of clear water.
Cuando fuiste novio mio, When you were my sweetheart,
por la primavera blanca during the white spring
los cascos de tu caballo the hooves of your horse
cuatro sollozos de plata. were like four silver sighs.
These are two verses of the many that are done to the compds of
the Bulerias.

151
 "systind Fumleuwlol Mop SOsUsWLTP JO aUO SE OFOULTY ‘VslUpUNy) ap YLwIpyY oArneU
SIY JO OpisyNO WMOUy-oEQU]T “ServefOS vt) Jo vouVzodioyuL punojord & sButs (,Aivyy Jo Uos,,
Jo ‘A1vT_ oY? JO oY ‘PonuvUIWAy 91994) ULTY ep ep fo oypouryy :pouorssafoad-uou oauauenif ay TL
 *(B[pAaG ul wssanl ayeatsd & yy) *10}8e5 [ap OdaIq pue ‘s10ZuUIS
‘sedajey Genf{ :szeas8 soouswiely yo ong Jo saay aq} ur Ajared pue Az1punjoid jo syuawoy,
 *s10}839nds 9Yy} JO suotssuldxe OJON “sETFNYD ayy Jo
UOI}IPUT SNosUEzUOdS B YA adUaIPNe sIy s}YBap Jopuaa ysty [ed90] ayy :vFsanl aynaud ayy
 ‘dnoad pounjdysuo uv oz sfuis ‘sonjpuny ‘ysoyensd Ayquqoid
pu ‘opodwos ysour s,oouWELY Posopisuod Apo ‘euaEyy oluopUy ; dsont appari ayy
This is how a dancer should look from the back, although the castanets, as always, hinder the
proper movement of the hands. In La Bodega, San Francisco.
 PART IV

APPENDICES
 APPENDIX NO. 1

BREAKDOWN OF THE CANTE, BAILE, AND TOQUE

BREAKDOWN OF THE CANTE.—The following list includes the

59 cantes andaluces that can still be heard today, 52 of which are consi-
dered as cante flamenco, and 7 of which are on the borderline between
flamenco and Andalucian folklore. With time these borderline cantes
will most probably become a part of flamenco as they acquire more fla-
menco characteristics.
The cantes flamencos have been broken down into the major ca-
tegories grande, intermedio, and chico. The cantes grandes are those
cantes of a profound nature, of extremely difficult interpretation, all
of which stem from religious antecedents. The sntermedtos are less pro-
found and less difficult to interpret, and have been mostly derived from
a Celtic folkloric origin since strongly interlaced with Arabic and gypsy
influences. The chicos are a gaier breed, easiest to interpret, of both
folkloric and religious origins.
CANTE GRANDE
with guitar accompaniment (danceable):
Caiias Playeras Siguiriyas
Livianas Polos Soleares
Medio Polo Serranas Soleariyas
without guitar accompaniment (termed a palo seco, not danced):
Carceleras Martinetes
Deblas . Tonds Saetas
CANTE INTERMEDIO
all cantes intermedios have guitar accompaniment:
not danced:
Cartageneras Jaberas Mineras
Fandangos Grandes Malaguefias Murcianas
Granainas Media Granaina Tarantas

155
 danceable :
Peteneras Tientos Antiguos Taranto
CANTE CHICO
with guitar accompaniment (danceable):
Alboreas Chuflas Mirabras Tientos Canastero:
Alegrias Colombianas Romeras Verdiales
Bulerfas Fandanguillos § Rondefias . Zambra
Cantifias Guajiras Rosas Zorongo Gitano.
Caracoles Jaleos Rumba Gitana
with or without guitar accompaniment (not danced):
Bamberas Marianas Palmares Trilleras
Caleseras Nanas ‘Temporeras
ANDALUCIAN FOLKLORE (mistakenly considered as flamenco):
with guitar accompaniment (danceable):
Garrotin Sevillanas Tanguillo Vito
Rods
with or without guitar accompaniment (not danced):
Campanilleros Milongas

BREAKDOWN OF THE BAILE.—The Baile flamenco is unijke

the Cante in that each baile, or danceable compds, does not hava. tradi-
tional characteristies that have to be adhered to. Each cante, on the
other hand, has a definite structure and other characteristics that belong
only to that cante, as is true, to a lesser degree, with each toque. In the
Baile, the rhythm largely determines the danee, and between bailes -with
very similar rhythms: and moods there will ‘be no distinguishable diB-
ference in the dance. Therefore, all of the possible bailes haye not. been
listed, as were the castes, as it would lend a deceptive scope to, the Basle.
Instead, only the bailes having a distinct compds and feeling are listed,
with a separate listing below of other very similar bailes which could
be danced in exactly the same emotional and technical manner.

156
BAILE GRANDE
Caiias Serranas Taranto
Polos - Siguiriyas Tientos Antiguos
Rondefia (toque) Soleares
BAILE INTERMEDIO
Alegrias Rosas Zapateado
Peteneras
BAILE CHICO
Alboreas . Farruca Tientos Canasteros
Bulerias Guajiras Zambra
Chuflas Rumba Gitana Zorongo Gitano
Danza Mora Tanguillo
GROUP DANCES
Fandanguillos Sevillanas - Verdiales
Rofs
The other dances not listed due to their close similarity to the above
are as follows: the Medio Polo and Soleariya, similar to the Polos and
Soleares; The Playeras and the Livianas, similar to the Siguiriyas; the
Romeras, Caracoles, Mirabrds, and Cantifias, similar to the Alegrias;
and the Colombianas and Garrotin, similarto the Rumba Gitana. It
may be argued that the Soleares, Polos and Cafas are also similar, as
are the Siguiriyas and the Serranas, and the Alegrias and the Rosas,
but I believe that the inherent emotional qualities in each of these bai-
les should cause a distinction in the dancer’s interpretations.
The aficionado will notice that the Rosas, Alegrias, and the Zapa-
teado, considered by many as bailes grandes, are listed under batles
intermedios due to what I consider a lack of adequate jondo qualities.
On the other hand, I have elevated the Taranto and the Rondena (to-
que), both relatively new to the Baile, to the batle grande section be-
cause of their obvious jondo attributes.

BREAKDOWN OF THE TOQUE.—The following are the 27 to-

ques most used for solo playing:
TOQUE GRANDE
Cafias Serranas Siguiriyas Soleares

157
TOQUE INTERMEDIO
Granainas y Media Granaina Malagueiias Peteneras
Rondefia (toque) Tarantas y Taranto Tientos Antiguos
TOQUE CHICO
Alegrias l'andanguillos = Sevillanas Zambra
Bulerfas Farruca Tanguillo Zapateado
Caracoles Guajiras Tientos Canasteros
Colombianas Rosas Verdiales Zorongo Gitano
Danza Mora Rumba Gitana
Besides the toques listed above, the really well-rounded guitarist
has to be able to accompany all of the cantes and bailes listed elsewhere
in this appendix, with the exceptions of those denoted ’’without guitar’,
which are the five cantes ’’a palo seco’’. Nevertheless, if the guitarist
learns to accompany the singing and dancing for those rhythms listed
above (with the addition of the Fandangos Grandes), he will have a
reasonably complete mastery of the flamenco guitar, and will be able
to accompany those batles and cantes most often performed.
The reader may notice that the Sevillanas and the Tanguillo, al-
though considered Andalucian folklore, have been included in the to-
que chico. This is due to the strong flamenco characteristics that they
have taken on in the Toque.

158 “
 APPENDIX NO. 2

OUTSTANDING FLAMENCO ARTISTS

SINGERS

The Top Ten.—The task of selecting today’s ten best singers is ob

viously a difficult one. They are necessarily cante grande singers, sig
nifying that they have the emotional and physical stuff necessary tc
interpret these most difficult of cates. This selection will certainly be
controversial, but one that most aficionados and cantaores agree shoulc
include the following (in alphabetical order):
SINGER PRESENTLY RESIDING IN:

Antonio Mairena Sevilla

Aurelio Sellés Cadiz
Canalejas de Puerto Real Puerto Real (Cadiz)
Fernanda de Utrera Utrera (Sevilla)
Juan Talegas Dos Hermanas (Sevilla)
Manolo Caracol Sevilla
Nifia de los Peines Sevilla
Pepe Nijiez de la Matrona Madrid
Pericén de CAdiz Madrid
Rafael Romero ’’Gallina’’ Madrid

The following is another difficult list, which is a more general list-

ing of today’s outstanding flamenco singers and the cantes in which
they excel. Choosing their best cantes is not always an obvious choice,
as many of these singers can sing a large number of cantes well. But
almost without exception they have their favorites, which they specialize
in and prefer to sing. I have limited the listed number of cantes to four
in order to avoid undue lengthiness. In this listing are included cantao-
res of all categories, listed alphabetically by first name, or nickname,
as last names in flamenco are often not used.
A study of the best cantes of each of these singers will give some
indication as to the category (grande, intermedio, chico) that the singer

159
will generally fall into, although this is certainly not infallible. Few of
the listed singers can be bracketed into any one category.

Antonio Mairena Siguiriyas, Martinetes, Saetas, Bulerias.

Aurelio Sellés Malaguenas, Alegrias, Soleares, Siguiriyas.
Bernarda de Utrera Bulertas, Soleares, Tientos Antiguos and Ca-
nasteros.
Bernardo el de los Lobitos Trilleras, Nanas, Marianas, Verdiales.
Canalejas de Pto. Real Soleares, Fandangos Grandes, Alegrias, Si-
guirtyas.
Chaqueta (el) Alegrias, Mirabrds, Soleares, Romeras.
Culata (el) Soleares, Siguiriyas, Alegrias, Livianas.
Fernanda de Utrera Soleares, Siguiriyas, Polos, Bulerias.
Fosforito Soleares, Alegrias, Cantiias, Serranas.
Gordito de Triana Fandangos Grandes, Soleares.
Juan Talegas Soleares, Siguirtyas, Martinetes, Playeras.
Manolita de Jerez Alegrias, Soleares, Bulertas.
Manolito el de la Maria Soleares, Bulerias, Siguiriyas, Fandangos
Grandes.
Manolo Caracol Siguriyas, Bulerias, Martinetes, Fandangos
Grandes.
Manolo Mairena Alegrias, Soleares, Siguiriyas, Bulerias.
Manolo Manzanilla Siguiriyas, Soleares, Camas, Alegrias.
Manuel Vargas Buderias, Alegrias, Malaguenas, Mirabras.
Mariquita Vargas Bulerias, Soleares, Alegrias.
Nifia de los Peines Saetas, Siguirtyas, Soleares, Peteneras.
Nifio de Almadén Tarantas, Tientos Antiguos, Malaguesas,
Granainas,
Paco de Algeciras Siguiriyas, Serranas, Bulerias, Soleares.
Paquera (la) Bulerias, Alegrias, Soleares.
Pepe Niiiez de la Matrona Soleares, Siguiriyas, Martinetes, Serranas.
Pepe Pinto Bulerias, Fandangos Grandes, Fandanguillos.
Pepe Valencia Tarantas, Soleares, Bulertas.
Pepe Valencia (Sevilla) Saetas, Soleaves, Deblas.
Peric6n de CAdiz * Alegrias, Malaguetas, Soleares, Sigsiriyas.
Perla de Cadiz Alegrias, Bulerias, Tientos Antiguos and Ce-
nasteros, Cantiias.
Pili (el) Siguiriyas, Soleares, Martmetes, Serranas.

160
 Porrina de Badajoz
Rafael Romero
Roque Jarrito Montoya
Sallago (la)
Terremoto de Jerez
Fandangos Grandes, Fandanguillos, Tientos
Canasteros, Bulertas.
Deblas, Soleares, Siguiriyas, Peteneras.
Malaguejias, Martinetes, Granainas, Tarantas.
Bulerias, Soleares, Alegrias, Siguiriyas.
Bulerias, Siguiriyas, Soleares.

DANCERS

The dancers listed below cannot be judged solely by their stage

performances. More important are their spontaneous performances in
private juergas, where the full scope of their faculties comes to light.
This..is also true in the case of the singers and the guitarists, and has
been taken into consideration in the difficult task of listing today’s out-
standing artists. A listing of dancers is especially difficult, as the only
way of judging their dance, other than by the reputation that they ac-
quire (a relative thing), is by seeing their personal performances, as
phonograph records, of course, give no indication whatsoever.
Four of these dancers, Pastora Imperio, Vicente Escudero, La
Quica, and Regla Ortega, are semi-retired and no longer dance with
their full former excellence. Nevertheless, they are still outstanding per-
formers, alt of whom have contributed a great deal to the Basle fla-
menco.
_ Two styles of dance are employed by the listed’ dancers. One, more
jondo, makes a very limited use of studied techniques, and relies basi-
cally on a natural, emotional form of dancing. Extreme examples of
this. style are los Pelaos. The more modern school strongly stresses
studied techniques, resulting in a more technically exciting, although
less naturally moving, form of dance. Examples of this style are Regla
Ortega and Carmen Amaya. Most present day dancers combine both
styles, some tending one way, some the other, but principally (sadly
enough) towards the technical.
_It is generally agreed that the following are today’s outstanding
flamenco dancers (in alphabetical order):

16}
13
 BAILAORES ‘ BAILAORAS :
Antonio Carmen Amaya
El Farruco Carmen Carrera
Faico Carmen Rojas
Los Pelaos La Chunga
Manolo Vargas La Chunguita
Paco Laberinto La Quica
Vicente Escudero Luisa Maravilla
Maleni Loreto
Marfa Albaicin
Pastora Imperio
Regla Ortega
Rosita Duran
Lola Flores, not listed because she is not a dancer, nevertheless is
capable of excellent juerga dancing when she is so moved.
The reader may notice that after my earlier criticism of La Chunga
I have included her here. She has definitely cheapened herself in her
commercial dancing (she is temporarily retired because of marriage),
but I am told by respected sources that her juerga dancing is still ex-
cellent.
Luisa Maravilla, also included in the list, is the dancer described
in the juerga on page 43, who performed in a profoundly moving man-
ner that night. She captivated the most critical flamenco audience ima-
ginable, the true test of a great dancer.
It may be surprising that Antonio is listed, as he is usually consider-
ed a classical Spanish dancer. That he is, but he is also very flamenco,
one of the most emotional ’’flamencos’’ dancing.
Vicente Escudero has made many enemies with his blunt state-
ments that he is the greatest living bailaor. Nevertheless, it is probably
true. Regrettably, he is well in his sixties or early seventies, and he can
no longer demonstrate his superiority as he did for many years. He is
the strongest remaining advocate of the pure school of flamenco (apart
from a few eccentricities that he has developed to strengthen his waning
dance).

162
 GUITARISTS

.In citing flamenco’s outstanding guitarists I have divided them

into what:I consider to be two distinct, and yet hitherto unemphasized,
styles of playing, which I term ’’jondo’’ and ’’concert’’. This division
will undoubtedly cause controversy. It is not an easy task to place some
of the ’’inbetween’’ guitarists in either category. But I am confident
that once the basis of this division is understood, it will hold up under
the aficionados impartial inspection.
The ’’jondo’”’ and the ’’concert’”’ divisions are based on the fol-
lawing:
(1) guitar techniques employed.
(2). the feeling that is intended by the guitarist.
(3) the feeling that is transmitted to the public.
The ’’feelings’’ of (2) and (3) are not necessarily in accord, or even
similar. It often happens that a ’’concert”’ style flamenco guitarist may
truly feel, and believe that he is transmitting, the duende to his public.
Regrettably, this authentic feeling that he has is too often lost before
teaching the listeners, due to the complexities and intricacies of his
stylé. That-is to say, he is often emotionally defeated by his virtuosity.
I have heard jondo guitarists who can say more with a significant silen-
ce following a primitive falseta, or by the emphasis of a single, prolong-
ed note in a simple igado, than many virtuosos who are able to inject
four times the number of notes into the same time span.
Let us select two guitarists, Sabicas and Perico el del Lunar (Sabi-
cas can be heard on his numerous records, Perico on’ the Westminster
Anthology of Flamenco), not necessarily as a comparison of guitarists,
but rather as a comparison of styles and emotional direction.
: Fitst, let’s listen-to Sabicas. We are immediately struck by his
phenomenal technique; thundering rasgueados, lightening picados and
thumb work, crystal clear arpegios and trémolos, astounding chording
effects and Agados, a deluge of notes and more notes. He is in a class
by himself, the greatest guitar technician in flamenco history. We are
left breathless, awe-struck. How can he play so perfectly, have, such
inventive genius to create most of his complex material, weave in and
atound the compds with such natural ease? Sabicas, the undisputed
vittuosa of the flamenco guitar!
Then. we put on one af the Anthology records, with Perico el del

163
Lunar, guitarist, one of the few masters of the art of accompanying the
Cante. Perico can accompany anything that is sung, and a few cantes
that have been forgotten. He knows the Cante better than most cantao-
es, and probably better than any other guitarist with the Mlustrious
exception of Manolo de Huelva. The record spins, and Perico plays an
introduction, subdued, quiet, preparing the way for the singer. His
style is simple and unassuming, effortless, and somehow ingenious. He
has the falent of capturing the mood of each cante, and of influencing
the singer to greater emotional depth. He remains in the background,
and yet is unpretentiously in the foreground, inserting always the ap-
propriate falseta to enhance the feeling of the cante. His falsetas are in
excellent taste, simple and jondo. We are not left in awe, nor are we
breathless. But we are left with a feeling that we have heard something
important; the combination of a guitar and a singer creating an unfor-
gettable jondo flamenco, steeped in duende.
. The following are the outstanding flamenco guitarists who advocate
the jondo style of playing. Many of these guitarists could, and occasion-
ally do, play concert flamenco, but basically they are dedicated to the
art of accompanying, with their conscious or unconscious objective being
the uniting of flarnenco’s components into one entity. In alphabetical
onder:
Arateli Vargas.
Diego del Gastor.
Eduardo de la Malena.
El Granaino.
Luis Maravilla,
- Manolo de Badajoz (presently retired due to sickness).
Manolo de Huelva (considered the world’s greatest flamence gui-
tarist).
Melchor de Marchena.
Nifio de Almerfa.
. Paco Aguilera.
Perico el del Lunar.
. Fhe following dre outstanding flamenco guitarists whe advecate
the ’’concert’’ style of playing. They are well-rounded guitarists who
ase aecomplished on the solo concert stage as well as im the art of ac-

16.
companying, although they are dedicated basically to the furthering of
guitar virtuosity. In alphabetical order:
Carlos Ramos.
Esteban de Sanltcar.
Juanito Serrano.
Justo de Badajoz.
Manuel Moreno ’’Moraito’’.
Mario Escudero.
‘Nifio Ricardo.
Pepe Martinez.
Rafael Nogales.
Ricardo Blasco..
Sabicas (considered the world’s greatest flamenco technician).

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 APPENDIX NO. 3
FLAMENCO RECORDS OF SPECIAL INTEREST

Title: ’’Sevilla — Cuna del Cante Flamenco’’. Columbia CCLP 31008.

This record is certainly one of the best and most versatile on the
market, featuring singers Antonio Mairena, Juan Talegas, El Gordito
de Triana, La Fernanda and La Bernarda de Utrera, La Perla de Cé-
diz, and Los Hermanos Toronjos, and the excellent guitar accompani-
ment of Paco Aguilera and Moraito Chico. This record is extremely in-
teresting, and I believe worthwhile breaking down by bands.
El Gordito de Triana sings the most magnificently moving Fan-
dangos Grandes the listener can ever hope to hear. The Fandangos
Trianeros are a very difficult and emotional style of the Fandangos
Grandes, and El Gordito proves himself capable of converting them
into a truly jondo cante. El Gordito, little-known outside of Triana,
sings with a duende on this band that shows him to be one of flamen-
co’s top singers.
Juan Talegas sings his specialty, the Soleares de Alcalé. Although
he sings only one band, Talegas gives an idea of the profundity and
perfection of his cante while again proving himself the old master of
the Soleares.
Antonio Mairena lends versatility to the record by singing two of
his specialties, the Martinetes and the Saetas, performing brilliantly on
both. Mairena proves himself a master of this difficult corner of flamen-
co in fulfilling his reputation as flamenco’s most complete cantaor,
La Bernarda de Utrera sings a wildly superb Bulerias, accompanied
excellently by Paco Aguilera and Moraito Chico in an example of
outstanding coordination between the singer and the guitarists. La Ber-
narda is another of the top singers, with an unrestrained gypsy voice
surging with a spirit and a duende not fully captured by phonograph
records.
And La Fernanda, how she sings! For my taste she is in a elass
by herself as a present day cantaora, equal in her specialties to the

18
legendary Nifia de los Peines. If La Fernanda and La Bernarda could
be seen by the side of Juan Talegas at their occasional juergas, even
the most cynical listener would feel the pull of the duende. )
La Perla de Cadiz is one of the top singers of the Bulerlas and
the cantes of Cadiz (Alegrias, Cantinas, etc.). My first opportunity to
hear her came one woozy dawn while devouring churros and chocolate
in a gypsy friend’s caseta during the feria de Sevilla. The dancer Faico,
La Fernanda, La Bernarda, La Perla and various other gypsy artists
eame in after a night of merry-making and formed a spontaneous juer-
ga, one of those unforgettable occasions that happen when least expect-
ed. The Bulerias was the theme; the three gypsy women sang alter-
nately to the wild dancing and jaleo of Faico and the other gypsies. It
was the type of spectacle not seen in theatres or night clubs and rarely
outside of them, and which showed La Perla in a magnificent form not
fully captured by this record.
Los Hermanos Toronjo, featuring the soloist Paco, sing well their
specialties, the Fandangos de Huelva and the Sevillanas.
My only possible criticism of this record is that the Hermanos To-
ronjo, and the choral group singing a traditional Sevillanan Christmas
song (Villancicos), should not have been included in a grouping of this
caliber, although they are excellent artists within their own realm.
Another band for Talegas, La Fernanda, El! Gordito, and La Bernarda
could have been easily fitted in in place of the three rather long bands
of the Toronjos and the choral group, which would have raised the
artistic quality of. the record even further.
Title: ’’Westminster Anthology of Cante Flamenco (1)”’.
Three records: WL 5303, WL 5304, and WL 5305

These records are certainly a valuable collection for all aficionados,

consisting of 33 cantes sung by such masters as Pepe Nuiiez de la Ma-
trona, Rafael Romero ’’Gallina’’, Nifio de Almadén, Pericén de Cadiz,
R. Jarrito Montoya, Bernardo el de los Lobitos, Nifio de Malaga, and
el Chaqueta, and containing a veritable lesson in guitar accompaniment
by Perico el del Lunar. This diversified collection will give every aficto-
nado an excellent ground-work towards an understanding of the Cante

(1) Hispavox has released a nearly identical anthology, featuring most

of the same singers singing the same cantes. A tri-lingual pamphlet explaining
the cantes and the cantaores accompanies the Hispavox offering.

167
and the guitar accompaniment, besides a raze opportunity for an insight
into the cante of these extraordinary cantaores.
Regardleas of what seem to be improvised recording techniques,
all of the singers show up extremely well in theis cantes except possibly
ol Chaqneta. He is simply better in person, having the type af voice
not suited for records.
To date these records make up the most complete collection of
castes that I have come across, and I believe are the only racorded
opportunity outside of Spain to hear the outstanding canée of Pepe
Niuiiez de la Matrona, as well as that of Bernardo el de los Lobitos, al
Nifio de Malaga, and el Chaqusta.
Title: ’’Cantaores Famosos — Antologia del Cante Flamenco’’.
Three records: Victor LALP 322, 323, 324.
This anthology, consisting of over 30 cantes, offers some of the
legendary singers of the past, as well as several of today’s outstanding
cantaores and guitarists. The first two records, the most interesting,
are composed of the following:
CANTES CANTAORES GUITABRISTAS

Cafias, Polos, Deblas, R. Jarrito Montoya Luis Maravilla

Martinetes, Granainas, R. Jarrito Montoya Luis Maravilla
Tarantas R. Jarrito Montoya Luis Maravilla
Bulerlas por Soleé §_ Nifia de los Peines | Melchor de Marchena
Peteneras, Bamberas Nifia de los Peines § Manolo de Badajoz
Siguiriyas Tomés Pavén Melchor de Marchena
Soled Manolo Caracol Paco Aguilera
Media Granaina, Jesis Perosanz Paquito Simén
Verdiales, Cantifas- JesGs Perosanz Paquito Simén
Saetas JesGs Perosanz None
Malaguetas Nifio de Almadén Melchor de Marchena
Tientos Antiguos Nifio de Almadén Melchor de Marchena
Mulaguesas, Alegrias Perieén de Cadiz’ _——Niifio Ricardo .
Faadangos de Huelva Cojo de Huelva Luis Maravilla
Serranas Tomas de Antequera Manolo Balerfas
Pavén, Vallejo, Perosanz, and the Cojo de Huelva, all of whom
died only recently, were among the most famous singers of their dey.
This anthology bas been taken entirely from old 78 rpm records,
enabling us to hear the older singers during their most productive yeam,

168
 although the recording techniques and the sound are of course not of
today’s caliber. It is interesting to compare the styles of the guitarists,
from the unassuming jondo playing of Manolo Bulerias to the sloppy
intricacies of Nifio Ricardo. Luis Maravilla plays beautiful, emotional
accompaniments; Manolo de Badajoz in his usual jondo style; Paco
Aguilera in his extremely flamenco, hard-driving style; and Melchor
de Marchena in his more complicated, still very jondo style (as differ-
entiated from the beautifully simple style of Manolo Bulerias), sparked
by frequent moments of creative genius. For my taste, Melchor is one
of the few truly outstanding flamenco guitar virtuosos of today who
has managed to utilize his vast techniques and creative ability and still
usually remain extremely jondo. Most guitarists of great technical ability,
as we have seen, pass over the emotional line at some unknown, ad-
vanced stage of their development, and from that point on their playing
becomes less jondo as the notes increase. This has not happened to
Melchor.
An interesting study of singing styles can also be made from these
records. Such a talented legendary singer as Manuel Vallejo proves
himself to be basically a ’’gritén’’ (shouter), apparently believing that
shouting is the answer to emotional outlet. This style was in vogue for
Many years during the decadent period of flamenco, and was (is) one
of the basic reasons for the continuance of the decay of the Cante. The
great singers do not shout — they will build up to an emotional pitch
during a’ cante when their voices become movingly strong, but they
then subside into an unadorned calm. Aurelio Selles is the outstanding
fiving example of the calm style of flamenco’s past greats (i. e. Antonio
‘Chacén). His singing is charged with an emotion amplified by the very
suggestiventess of his quiet style. On these records Roque Montoya Ja-
trito and the Nifio de Almadén demonstrate this calmness, and far
‘exceed Vallejo in emotional impact. Caracol, on the other hand, often
Yhouts, but it somehow enhances his cante which is truly jondo in
nature, making the listener feel that Caracol is ridding himself of swarms
of inner demons. He is a rare exception. The Nifia de los Peines will be
understood, and liked, only by those deeply involved in flamenco. She
is much like the early, earthy jazz singers, who were little appreciated
‘by any but other jazz singers and musicians. She is one of flamenco’s
true creators of this century. Her strongest cantes are the cantes grandes,
afxl she is therefore not represented at her best on these records. Little
wan be learned of the cante of the legendary Tomas Pavén, brother of

169
the Nijia de los Peines, as he sings only one short Siguiriyas. He was
considered one of the great siguiriyeros (singers of Sigusriyas) of his
time, although his specialty was the Soleares.
Title: ’’The Fantastic Guitars of Sabicas and Escudero’’.
Decca DL 78795.
In this record of guitar duets the guitars, arrangements, imagina-
tion, talent, good taste, and compds of Sabicas and Escudero are truly
’’fantastic’’ within their style of playing (although forgivably com-
mercial). Listen closely and you will hear amazing, original passages
that are principally the results of (I am sure) the genius of Sabicas.
What they do on this record has been done by no other duo, and I
expect it will not be equalled in many a moon.
Their good taste must be appreciated in not invading the sacred
territory of the toque grande, as those toques must be mastered by a
single, serious instrument; they would not lend themselves te guitar
duets as do the toques chicos that constitute this record.
Title: ’’Arte Clasico Flamenco’’ — Ramén Montoya.
Philharmonia Records Corp. PH 108. |
This record will give the aficionado an idea of the toque of Ramén
Montoya, creator of the modern style of concert flamenco guitar play-
ing. Many of the falsetas on this record, original creations of Don Ra-
mdén, will be familiar to the listener, as they have become the basic of
modern improvisation. It is said that records could never capture the
magic of Ramén’s playing. He was at his best, as are all flamencos, in
the atmosphere of a juerga. And more than a soloist, Ramén was an
accompanist of the Cante. I have had the opportunity to hear him, on
ald 78 rpm’s, accompany such past great cantaores as Antonio Chacén
and Manuel Torre with a style and depth of expression far superior to
this record of solos. Nevertheless, this record gives a fair sampling of
the creative togue of Ramon Montoya.

Title: ’’Queen of the Gypsies’’ (DL 9816) and ’’Flamenco’’

(DL 9925) — Decca
Carmen Amaya and her Company; Sabicas, guitarist.
These two records are the best I have heard to give the listener the
full effect, in faultless coordination, of the caxte, baile, gusterra, and

170
jateo. The ’’Queen of the Gypsies’’ stresses more serious aspects of fla-
menco, while ’’Flamenco’’ is on the lighter side. Carmen’s footwork is
superb, and her singing gives a good example of the tremendous impact
that a primitive, untrained gypsy voice can carry. Sabicas’accompani-
ments and solos are, as always, outstanding, and he carries the compds
in a way that makes the listener want to leap to his feet and dance. The
general jaleo is the best that I have heard on a record. In summation,
these records, besides being very enjoyable, will gave an excellent idea
of the full scope of flamenco. With the addition of one or two top-notch
eantaores, an even greater degree of excellence could have been attained.
Title: *’A History of Cante Flamenco’’. Top Rank International.
Manolo Caracol, singer; Melchor de Marchena, guitarist.
This two-record anthology, consisting of 26 cantes of Caracol, is
extremely interesting in that the listener can study several styles and
forms of a particular cante (five Siguiriyas, three Bulerias, three Fan-
dangos, five Soleares, etc.), noting the differences made by one of fla-
menco’s best, and most well-versed, cantaores. It will be obvious to
Most listeners that Caracol is a cante grande singer, singing beautifully
the jondo cantes, less well the semi-serious cantes, and least well the
Fandangos de. Huelva, a cante not worthy of him that he should not
attempt. Melchor de Marchena does not seem to be playing in an atmos-
phere to his liking, as he is not in his top form, although he accompanies
more than adequately and at times magnificently. This is probably due
in part to Caracol’s unusual style of singing, in which he enters into
some cantes at unexpected moments, sings along with several guitar
introductions, purposely strays from the compds in several places, and
int general makes life difficult for the guitarist. But, generally speaking,
these records show Caracol singing his favorites, the cantes grandes, at
‘his present best (he has had more power and control in the past), and
show him to be a singer of great knowledge and emotional intensity.
Title: ’’*Danzas Flamencas’’. Decca DL 9758. José Greco and Company.
As usual, the narcissistic Mr. Greco gives no reference or credit to
the members of his company who make this record one of the better of
those combining all of flamenco’s components. I recognize the excellent
cantaores Rafael Romero (Caias, Peteneras, Zambra, Tientos Antiguos)
and Manolita de Jerez (Alegrias, Bulerias, Fandangos Grandes, Solea-
ves, etc.), and I believe the guitarist Miguel Garcfa, but the others I

171
 cannot identify with any surety. Greco's footwork is good, and the sing-
ing, guitar and tastefulness ere generally good throughout the record,
as is the selection of dailes and cantes.

Apart from the mentioned: records of special interest, almost any

of the recordings of the outstanding flamenco artists mentioned in Ap-
pendix No. 2 are worthwhile having. If they are labeled flamenco, aad
are of these artists, it is reasonably sure that they are sincere efforts at
good flamenco.
There are exceptions. Listen to the record before buying.
An undertaking of special interest should be noted here. A newly-
organized folkloric group is preparing a set of tapes designed to instruct
the listener in the various cantes and their styles.. These tapes will consist
of short, informative talks about particular cantes and interpretess,
profusely illustrated by singing to guitar accompaniment.
The illustrations will be taken from contemporary and old necerds
{seme dating back as far as fifty years), and will give the listener the
rare opportunity of hearing all of the living singers mentioned in Out-
standing Performers, Appendix 2 (including their early recordings), as
well as many greats of the past (Antonio Chacén, Manuel Torre, Tomés
Pqvén, el Nifio de Cabra, etc.). Unpublished material from live juergas
will also be used.
The guitar accompaniment will be by the greatsof past and present,
and will present an interesting study in itself. Tapes demonstrating va-
rious guitar styles and approaches, including both solo and ancompeni-
meat, are also being planned.
The group feels that only ia this way can the public be informed of
the pure flamenco and, conversely, of the. impurities that are running
rampant in the flamenco of today. These tapes will offer the aficionado
an unprecedented opportunity to improve his knowledge, and enjoy-
ment, of flamenco.
‘Further information can be obtained from: Estudios Flamenco,
Victor Pradera, 46 — Madrid.

172
 APPENDIX NO. 4

COMMERCIAL FLAMENCO ESTABLISHMENTS

Commercially, Madrid is the flamenco center of Spain (and the

world), followed by Sevilla, Barcelona, Malaga, and Granada. Madrid
offers by far the best commercial flamenco, having numerous old-style
Cafés Cantantes which offer many of the top personalities of flamenco.
As has. been seen in the course of this book, flamenco is not at its
best i in a commercial atmosphere. Nevertheless, some excellent moments
can be passed in these establishments. The main drawback is that the
public. is composed basically of non-aficionados, and the atmosphere
rarely warms up to an inspiring level. The artist needs encouragement
— he has to feel the audience with him — or his performance will gene-
rally be cold and automatic. If he feels that the public does not care,
or does not understand, his duende will not be ignited, and he will nat
be able to perform to his fullest capabilities. This is irremediable, and
we need not dwell upon it further; these establishments are certainly
an important aspect of flamenco. Happily, in step with the present trend
of. renewed interest and purification of flamenco, many of these clubs
have recognized the importance of presenting better flamenco, and are
increasing their standards accordingly.
In the following pages an evaluation of many of the world’s im-
portant commercial flamenco establishments is offered. I have rated
the Spanish clubs *’very good’’, '’good’’, ’’fair’’, ‘mediocre’, and
*‘poor’”. The. non-Spanish clubs have not been rated, as rating them
would invite comparison between the Spanish and the non-Spanish
clubs, and there can be no reasonable comparison. The Spanish clubs
are in a position to present large cuadros studded with talent, which
simply cannot be done practically outside of Spain.

173
 WITHIN SPAIN
La Zambra.—Madrid.
A small, intimate, and expensive old-style Café Cantante strictly
for drinking, listening and observing, the Zambra has the consistently
best pure flamenco of any club in the world. The show, as in nearly all
Spanish flamenco clubs, is composed of two cuadros, one basically
light, the other serious. The light cxadro has some 14 performers, who
offer an enjoyable warm-up based on jaleo, gaiety, and a few sober
moments, capable of several good numbers, and many more not so
good numbers: At its best this cuadro features the singer el Culata, the
dancer-singer Teresa Maya, and the guitarist Triguito. The second cua-
dro (composed of permanent artists under long-term contracts) is select,
and their flamenco is likely to be the best, as a whole, to be found in
a commercial establishment. This cuadro usually contains none less
than singers Rafael Romero '’Gallina’’, Peric6n de CAdiz, Manuel
Vargas, and Juanito Barea, dancer Rosita Duran, and guitarist Perico
el del Lunar or his son (also an excellent guitarist). My only criticism
of this cuadro is that it is overly-dominated by the dancer Rosita Du-
ran. During my last visit there she danced six times, which not only
dampened the excellent effect that she would have left with two or
three dances (it is a deadly mistake for a performer to saturate the
public; it should always be left clamouring for more), but it limited
the singers to minor accompanying roles, a sin with singers of this cate-
gory. On a previous visit Rosita was sick, and the show was left to the
four singers and the guitarist. They lined up five chairs and, sternly
seated and taking turns, they gave by far the most impressive recital
of cante and toque jondo that I have witnessed in a commercial estab-
lishment. .
Apart from the excellent flamenco, the atmosphere of the Zambra
is a little cold. This is due in part to a public little initiated in this caliber
of ‘flamenco, and also to a ’’snob’’ atmosphere purposely cultivated by
the management.
Price: 175 pesetas ($2.90) minimum per person, including one
drink. Rating: very good.
Corral de la Morerla.—Madrid.
Imaginative owner Manuel del Rey, an excellent aficionado, has
succeeded in giving the Corral de la Morerfa what I consider to be the
warmest, most informally flamenco atmosphere of any high-class club

174
in Spain. As good as his decorative taste is his taste for good flamenco.
He has launched various artists, including La Chunga, and his present
principal cuadro includes another protégé, dancer Maria Albaicin, who
can certainly become one of the great dancers if she does not succumb
to over-commercialism. Together with Maria in the principal cuadvo are
such excellent artists as the singers El Pili and Porrina de Badajoz, the
dancers Fati and Diego Pelao, and the guitarist Antonio Arenas. The
light cwadvo is entertaining, and offers a few good numbers amid much
jaleo.-
Price: 125 pesetas ($2.10) minimum per person, including one
drink (or towards dinner). Rating: good.
El Duende.—Madrid.
Small and intimate, the Duende is owned by the famous bailaora
Pastora Imperio, and her equally as famous son-in-law Gitanillo de
Triana, former torero. The Duende has first-rate entertainment with an
interesting changeover of artists, which has included, in the past few
months, Antonio Mairena, Paco Aguilera, Maleni Loreto, los Pelaos,
and others. The atmosphere is informal and good, somewhere in be-
tween those of the Corral and the Zambra. For my taste, the show is
not as varied, as consistently outstanding, or as well-presented as that
of the. Zambra, although the Duende is definitely one of the top flamen-
co establishments in Spain.
Price: 125 pesetas minimum at a table, 75 pesetas at a stand-up
bar. Rating: good.
Torres Bermejas.—Madrid.
‘The Torres Bermejas does not meet the standards of the Zambra,
Corral de la Moreria, or the Duende, although a sprinkling of good
artists can be seen there, including the singer R. Jarrito Montoya, the
dancer Juan Pelao, and often the singer E] Culata. It is small and in-
timate, decorated in an interesting Arabic motif.
Price: 100 pesetas ($1.65) minimum, including one drink. Rating:
fair.
La Bruja.—Madrid.
La Bruja is besieged by the problem of most Cafés Cantantes —
excellent artists perform far beneath their capabilities in an overly-com-
metcial atmosphere. My last visit exposed La Fernanda and La Ber-
narda de Utrera, el Chaqueta, Candelas, the dancing sister of La Chun-

175
ga, and others offering their flamenco half-heartedly, in a mistaken
belief that an ignorant public thus prefers it. My argument is that the
public that understands definitely does not prefer the commercial, and
the public that does not understand can never be expected to if they are
constantly confronted with it. Pure flamenco is colorful and vazied
enough for any audience without cute little tricks and gimmicks.
La Braja (the Witch) has a medieval dungeon motif, interesting
if awkwardly laid out.
Price: 100 pesetas minimum at a table, a far-away bar cheaper.
Rating: good.
Arco de Cuchilleros.—Madrid.
The Arco de Cuchilleros is a fairly new Café Cantante ideally locat-
ed in the picturesque old quarter of Madrid, between the Cuevas de
Luis Candelas and Botin’s Restaurant. The Arco started out with an
interesting mixture of boleros (traditional non-flamenco dance of Ma-
drid). and flamenco, but soon dropped the boleros in favor of an all-fla-
menco program.
The cuadro is young and full-of-hell, with animated palmas and
jaleo and better-than-average flamenco. The show fell heavily with the
main attractions: a so-so dancer from New York, a Fandango singer
called Villanueva, and a tired Alejandro Vega and poor partner. Never-
theless, the atmosphere is intimate, and the décor attractive and fitting.
Price: 125 pesetas minimum. Rating: mediocre.
Cuevas de Nemesio.—Madrid.
The Cuevas is an interesting spot featuring two cuadros of mostly
young, beginning artists. They offer spirited, extremely commercial
flamenco in a cave-type, casual atmosphere.
Price: 125 pesetas minimum at a table, 75 pesetas at a stand-up
bar. Rating: poor. -
El Guajiro.—Sevilla.
Top performers occasionally relieve the popular flamenco atmos-
phere of this night club which otherwise harbours noisy crowds and
mediocre flamenco. The singer Fosforito spends frequent hectic periods
there, having to utilize a mike in order to be heard over the babbling
throng, and El Farruco often copes half-heartedly with the crowd. The
Fandanguillos of the Hermanos Toronjo and the sexy Rumba Gitena
of Manoli Vargas fare better. El Guajiro is large and colorful, and fea-
tures ballroom dancing between flamenco shows.

176
 ‘Price: 75 pesetas ($1.25) minimum at table, 35 pesetas at a stand-
up bar. Rating: mediocre.
La Venta Real.—Sevilla.
The Venta Real is a historical venta on the highway to CAdiz re-
cently reopened by the owners of El Duende of Madrid. The original
idea was to interchange artists between the two Cafés Cantantes, but
Sevilla has not supported the Venta as anticipated, and they have had
to succumb, generally speaking, to lesser talent. Nevertheless, such
artists have appeared there as Antonio Mairena, Melchor de Marchena,
Maleni Loreto, and others. The Venta Real undoubtedly has the best
organized flamenco in Sevilla, as well as the most attentive audiences.
The Venta is open from about April to November.
Price: 75 pesetas per drink at a table, 50 pesetas at a stand-up
bar. Rating: fair.
La Bodega del Hotel Cristina.—Sevilla.
An intimate atmosphere with interesting, if terribly commercial,
flamenco. Carmen Carrera often highlights the show.
Prices: 75 pesetas per drink at a table. Rating: mediocre.
Patio Andaluz.—Sevilla.
‘The Patio Andaluz is organized along the same lines as the Guajiro
(night club, ballroom dancing), although they generally offer an infe-
rior brand of flamenco. Under a new policy they are presently hiring
better performers, but they still have a long ways to go. El Farruco,
probably the most flamenco bailaor presently dancing, often saves the
show. |
- Price: .75 pesetas minimum at a table, 30 pesetas at a small bar.
Rating: mediocre to poor.
La Cueva.—Torremolinos (Malaga).
A fascinating setting combined with good artists has made La Cue-
va a high caliber establishment, a rarity outside of Madrid.
The setting is a natural cave facing a compact, open-air bar, seat-
ing comfortably an audience of about 150. The talent was considerable
the last time I was there, including La Fernanda de Utrera, El Chaque-
ta, Fosforito, Porrina de Badajoz and his excellent accompanist Pepe
de Badajoz, La Chunguita, and a large supporting cuadro. As it has
just opened this summer, it is hard to predict if La Cueva will continue
in this high-class plan. With proper support it most likely will.

177
14
 Price: 100 pesetas minimum, less at a stand-up bar. Rating: good.
(Strictly summertime).
La Bodega Andaluza.—Torremolinos (Malaga).
The Bodega has a colorful, intimate atmosphere, featuring local
flamencos sometimes suprisingly good and sometimes surprisingly bad.
The atmosphere is warm, and the audience attentive.
Price: 50 pesetas minimum at a table. Rating: mediocre.
El Zoco.—Cérdoba.
Regrettably, Cérdoba has only one Café Cantante. It is located in
the ancient Jewish quarter near the residence of the famed painter of
Cordobés women, Julio Romero de Torres. The place reeks of atmos-
phere, and one has the feeling that here will be found real flamenco.
Nothing could be further from the truth. The performers are youngsters
whom the management undoubtedly hires with the objective of mini-
mizing costs. Their flamenco is commercial and cheap. Nevertheless,
it is worth a visit to see the layout, but go early (11 p.m.) as, unlike
other clubs in Spain that close late, the Zoco closes at I a.m.
Price: 60 pesetas (§1) minimum at a table. Rating: poor.
Bodega del Toro.—Barcelona.
This establishment offers Barcelona’s best flamenco in a lively
atmosphere.
Price: about 75 pesetas minimum at a table, 50 pesetas at a stand-
up bar. Rating: mediocre to fair.
Barcelona.
There are several places dedicated to flamenco in the Barrio Chino,
an old typical neighborhood of Barcelona. The most notable of these
are La Macarena and the Villa Rosa. Although in a colorful setting, the
flamenco is usually mediocre, the prices reasonable if care is taken.
The Gypsy Caves.—Granada.
Beware. Local color, gypsy witchery, and flamboyant flamenco
combine to relieve you of your bankroll. If you go, it is wise to join an
organized tour from Granada at a pre-set price. The caves, and the
spectacle, are extremely interesting and entertaining. It is worth the
trip, but don’t expect much in the way of flamenco. The cave of Lola
Medina, a dancer of considerable past fame, probably is the scene of
the most authentic jwergas. Rating: generally poor.

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 OUTSIDE OF SPAIN
Outside of Spain the most enthusiastic flamenco cities of the world
are probably San Francisco and Paris. Both of these cities have a fla-
menco attitude and philosophy: live today, worry about tomorrow
manana (st Dios quiere), and above all, give us wine, women, song,
good food, and exciting pursuits. Flamenco artists flourish in this at-
mosphere, as it is the closest thing to Andalucia outside of Spain. Be-
sides, there is money to be had; not a large amount, but astronomical
in comparison to their earnings in Spain.
Paris has long been known for its attraction for flamenco artists.
San Francisco is still a relative newcomer to the flamenco world, but
is consistently attracting more and more flamencos with its European
atmosphere and eager acceptance of the art of flamenco.
The Casa Madrid.—San Francisco.
The Casa Madrid is a Café Cantante-type bar that features profes-
sional flamenco entertainment. The artists are mostly Spaniards who
find themselves in America, highlighted by a changing selection of such
well-known guitarists as Carlos Ramos, Sarasate, and Bernabé de
Morén.
La Bodega.—San Francisco.
La Bodega is a colorful Spanish restaurant that serves recorded
flamenco and classical background music along with their excellent
wines and Paella. It is sparked by frequent spontaneous juergas by
local and visiting flamencos and, if not juergas, there are usually guitar-
ists playing informally at a corner table. It is strictly performing for
pleasure, as there are no hired performers. La Bodega is a favorite
stopping place for touring flamenco artists.
The Spaghetti Factory Cafe.—San Francisco.
This café offers the talents of many of San Francisco's local afi-
cionados in an interesting setting. Spirited but strictly amateur.
The Casa Madrid.—Los Angeles.
The Casa Madrid is under the same management as its sister bar
in San Francisco. Many of the flamenco artists work in both bars,
shuttling back and forth at intervals.
La Zambra.—New York City.
A night spot dedicated to flamenco, the Zambra has featured,
among others, some of flamenco’s outstanding guitarists.
El Chico.—New York City.
El Chico offers flamenco at its most commercial, with occasional
name performers.
The Chateau Madrid.—New York City.
An intimate room set apart from the main club generally offers
flamenco singing and guitar-playing.
El Patio.—Mexico City.
A night club with a varied floor show, the Patio has featured such
outstanding flamenco artists as Carmen Amaya, Sabicas, and La
Chunga.
El Rincén de Goya.—Mexico City.
E! Rincén is a club featuring local Spanish and Mexican flamenco
artists in an interesting and entertaining setting. Usually mediocre
talent.
Gitanertas.—Mexico City.
The Gitanerfas offers flamenco shows and intermission Mexiean
folklore in a lively, gay, and entertaining atmosphere with... mediocre
flamenco.
PARIS.
The following are the most noted flamenco elubs in Paris. I cannot
comment on them, as I know them only by reputation.
La Guitare. Barcelona.
La Puerta del Sol. Caves de Grenade.
E] Catalan. E] Patio.
Antonio’s Restaurant.—London.
Antonio’s offers what is probably the best flamenco in London.
The Acapulco.—London.
Despite the name, the Acapulco is reputed to have nightly flamenco.
Troubador.—London.
Two nights of flamenco weekly are squeezed into a schedule of
varied folk music.

180
 APPENDIX NO. 5

PRIVATE JUERGAS

The impression may have been given in this book that pure fla-
menco is nearly impossible to find, especially for the aficionado not
thoroughly versed in flamenco, Andalucfa, and the Spanish language.
This is not far from the truth, but there are ways for the adventurous.
Probably the best and least costly is that offered by a new folkloric
group, which takes the aficionado to authentic juergas in towns and vil-
lages throughout Andalucia. Further information can be acquired from:
Estudios Flamencos, Victor Pradera, 46 — Madrid.
Good juerga flamenco can also be sought in certain bars and ven-
tas throughout Spain.
‘ In many smaller towns and villages of Andalucia, it is possible to
merely enter the local bar at almost any hour, ask for a few flamencos,
and sit down and wait while they are being rounded up from their near-
by houses. This is taking pot luck, but can be entertaining and usually
cheap. Of course, you are leaving yourself open to gross deception un-
less you are well-versed in Spanish and know your way around, and
the chances are the flamenco will leave much to be desired.
Larger localities have bars and ventas which exist primarily for
these juergas, and a much better brand of flamenco is usually offered.
These bars and ventas have private juerga rooms, and many flamenco
artists congregate in them hoping to be hired for private parties. Spain
lives late, and these flamencos are available from around II p.m. until
6 or 7 a.m. The prices of these artists vary widely, depending on the
category of the artist, his mood, his necessity for money, and his size-up
of his prospective employer. These juergas can be wonderful experiences
or expensive disappointments. If the party contains knowledgeable
aficionados who show great interest and knowing enthusiasm, the artists
will most likely outdo themselves to please and prove their ability,
which in turn will cause them to become emotionally involved. If a
majority of the party consists of people solely out to have a good time,
the flamencos will encourage this and they too will have a good time;

181
but the pure flamenco more than likely will not flow. I have had excel-
lent experiences on such jwergas, and I have also been horribly bored.
Nothing can be guaranteed.
A list of these bars and ventas, and a discussion of the prices,
follows:
MADRID.—Madrid has an early and a late bar dedicated to juer-
gas. The early bar is the Villa Rosa, located on the Plaza Santa Ana,
where flamenco artists congregate, and juergas are formed, from about
II p.m. to 2.30 a.m. After that, the place to go is the Venta Manzanilla
(owned by the cantaor Manolo Manzanilla), located on the highway to
Barcelona (use side entrance). Some of Spain’s outstanding flamencos
are for hire in these bars, including the legendary Manolo de Huelva,
long considered the world’s greatest flamenco guitarist. Class A prices.
(See price schedule that follows).
SEVILLA.—A string of ventas just outside of Sevilla, on the high-
way to CAdiz, is the meeting place of Sevilla’s flamenco artists. The
Venta Marcelino, open until about 4 a.m., has by far the best selection
of artists, usually including the excellent cantaor Gordito de Triana,
the guitarist Antonio Sanlicar, and others. The early morning hours
can be spent in a ’’closed door’’ bar in Triana (unless its doors are
previously closed permanently). Ask the flamencos or a taxi driver for
directions. Generally Class B prices.
MALAGA.—The night clubs La Terraza and El Cajfiizo have fla-
mencos available for juergas until about 4 a.m. Before midnight they
often congregate in the Bar Central on the main plaza (Constitucién)
in Malaga. Generally Class C prices.
CADIZ.—La Cueva del P4jaro Azul. A group of five or six artists
congregate here who can provide enjoyable flamenco from about 11
p.m. on. Generally Class C prices.
SAN FERNANDO (near Cadiz).—The famous Venta Vargas has
a few mediocre artists available. Class C prices.
JEREZ DE LA FRONTERA.—La Pajfioleta is the only place in
this historic flamenco city where flamenco can presently be found. rr
p.m. to dawn. Generally Class C prices, and poor flamenco.

182
 PRICES
There is no way of giving an accurate idea of the cost of an all
night juerga. There are too many variables, as I have pointed out.
Nevertheless, I believe that it is necessary for the reader to have some
vague idea of the price, so he at least is in a bargaining position. I shall
group the bars and ventas in price classes (A, B, C), broken down by
the category of artist desired (famous or non-famous).
GROUP ARTIST NON-FAMOUS FAMOUS
A guitarist 200-400 pesetas 500-1000 pesetas
singer 300-500 pesetas 600-1200 pesetas
dancer 200-400 pesetas rarely encountered
B guitarist 150-300 pesetas 400- 800 pesetas
singer 200-400 pesetas 500-1000 pesetas
dancer 200-300 pesetas rarely encountered
Cc guitarist 50-150 pesetas 150- 300 pesetas
singer 50-150 pesetas rarely encountered
dancer 50-150 pesetas rarely encountered
I repeat that these prices are only approximations. Do not feel
cheated if you are asked more, nor surprised if asked less. I have hired
one of the top singers for 100 pesetas. He felt like singing, and he knew
that I could not pay a large amount. On the other hand, I have been
asked for phenomenal amounts by performers who happened to feel
expensive that night, but whom, a few nights later, would be content
with a fraction of what they previously demanded. As you can notice
from the chart, dancers do not frequent these bars and ventas too con-
sistently; they mainly seem to harbour singers and guitarists, perhaps
because there are less unemployed dancers. The terms ’’famous’’ and
’’*non-famous”’ are not meant to indicate necessarily that an artist is
better or worse. It merely means that they have built up a name, per-
haps only locally, by pure or commercial means, and that they consider
themselves worth more money. It also has to be kept in mind that the
price may go down for a one or two hour jwerga, and up for an extend-
ed period of time. The prices given here would be for a juerga of per-
haps three to five hours duration.
Wine has to be bought for the juerga. It will be taken for granted
that good sherry wine (preferably Tio Pepe or Agustin Bl4zquez) is
desired unless otherwise specified, which will be costly as it is the main

183
income of the bar. The cost should be roughly as follows:
Bar category A — 200-250 pesetas per bottle.
Bar category B — 150-200 pesetas per bottle.
Bar category C — 100-150 pesetas per bottle.
You are not obligated to buy such good wine. Manzanilla, montilla,
or table wine is cheaper, if you don’t mind the condescending looks.
Also, the artists may not produce properly without their favorite lubri-
cant, although many of them are not so spoiled.
 APPENDIX NO. 6

FLAMENCO CONTESTS

National and international contests of cante jondo, and flamenco

in general, have been organized several times over the past 100 years,
with the objective of discovering and comparing talent, and of further-
ing interest in flamenco.
Although this seems an excellent idea, a maze of developments
tend to water down the results of such contests, such as small, non-
representative turnouts, local favoritism, and private business interests.
. Small turnouts occur because professional artists have a tendency
to avoid these contests. They realize that they have little to gain and
much to lose, as they stake their professional prestige and standing
against a comparatively small monetary prize and increase in prestige.
They also realize that the contests are not always decided on the basis
of artistic talent alone. In view of this, professionals sometimes have to
be enticed into participating by offers of certain guarantees.
Those who can profit the most from such contests are flamenco’s
aficionados and beginning professionals. Aside from monetary prizes,
the winners gain a certain amount of prestige and recognition, which
leads to. private juergas, recording offers, and night club and theatre
dates, if the artists are so inclined.
In the following pages we shall study the three most important se-
ries of contests that have been offered to date, the Concurso Nacional
de Cante Jondo, La Llave de Oro del Cante, and the Concurso Interna-
cional de Arte Flamenco.

CONCURSO NACIONAL DE CANTE JONDO

The first National Contest of Cante Jondo, celebrated in Granada

in 1922, was organized by the poet Garcia Lorca, the composer Falla,
and the painter Ignacio Zuloaga. That contest has become almost le-
gendary. The Prize of Honor was won by an old gypsy, Diego Bermt-

185
dez ’’El Tenaza’’, an aficionado of Morén de la Frontera. He proved to
be outstanding in many cantes, but his greatest achievement dumfounded
the judges (all men of considerable knowledge of flamenco). He solemn-
ly sang (so goes the legend) fifteen different styles of Siguiriyas, many
of which were so ancient that they were unknown to the judges.
The old man calmly accepted his prize money and humbly return-
ed to his village, never to publicly appear again.
A prize was also won by Manolo Caracol, then a boy entering his
first contest.
The outstanding guitarist of the contest was Manolo de Huelva,
even then considered flamenco’s best guitarist.
The next contest was given in Cérdoba in 1956, thanks to the ef-
forts of the poet Ricardo Molina. This contest saw an impetuous young
man in his middle twenties, Antonio Fernandez Diaz ’’Fosforito’’, win
the Absolute Prize of Honor by ranking first in all categories (the can-
tes are broken down into categories, with a prize for each), a feat not
overly spectacular due to the lack of first-rate competition.
Fosforito sings a showy flamenco, taken by some to be passionate.
He has a good over-all knowledge of the Cante, although this knowl-
edge does not run deep in particular cantes. Of course, he is still young.
His voice, lacking a bit in resonance, is reminiscent of that of the
great Pepe Niiiez de la Matrona.
The last contest also took place in Cérdoba, in 1959. A group of
gypsies from the Sevilla area, more accurately from Utrera and Dos
Hermanas, dominated the contest. They were led by Juan Talegas, a
time-honored gypsy well in his seventies, who was awarded the Prize
of Honor for placing first in the two most coveted categories. The crities
agree that had he wished, he could have won other honors, but for
reasons of prudence and courtesy he abstained from competing in the
other categories.
Talegas is steeped in the tradition and knowledge of his art. He
sings with a profound seriousness and formality which commands re-
spect and emotional involvement as he explores the depths of the jondo.
Next to Talegas, La Fernanda de Utrera was the singer who most
impressed the judges and critics. She has a wild, uncultivated rajo
voice that sends chills down one’s spine. It is impossible to resist her
duende, which is without tricks or exaggerations, like a cauldron of.
emotions bubbling over into song. She is also high on the list of fla-
menco’s great cantaores.

186
The official list of the prize winners of the 1959 Concurso Nacional de

Cante Jondo is as follows: (1)

Siguiriyas y Martinetes: ist prize (of Honor) to Juan Talegas, of
Dos Hermanas (Sevilla), of 10,000 pesetas. 2nd and 3rd prizes were
not filled.
Polos y Soleares: 1st prize to Juan Talegas of 6,000 pesetas. 2nd
prize to La Fernanda de Utrera of 3,000 pesetas. 3rd prize not filled.
Canas y Serranas: Ist prize to Pedro Lavado Rodriguez, of Puente
Genil (Cérdoba), of 6,000 pesetas. 2nd and 3rd prizes were not filled.
Malagueftas y Tarantas: ist prize not filled. 2nd prize to Jests
Heredia Flores, of Ecija (Sevilla) of 2,500 pesetas. 3rd prize to Juan
Gambero Martin, of Fuengirola (Malaga), of 1,500 pesetas.
Bulerias y Tientos: Two 1st prizes of 3,000 pesetas each to the
sisters La Fernanda and La Bernarda, de Utrera (Sevilla). Two second
prizes of 2,000 pesetas each to La Perla de Cadiz and to La Pepa de
Utrera. 3rd prize of 1,500 pesetas to Maria Vargas Fernandez, of San-
Iicar de Barrameda (Cadiz).
Alegrias, Mirabrdés y Romeras: ist prize of 3,000 pesetas to La
Perla de Cadiz. 2nd prize of 2,000 pesetas to Francisco Jurado Regalén,
of Cérdoba. 3rd prize of 1,500 pesetas to Juan Montoya Fernandez, of
Utrera (Sevilla).
Fandangos de Lucena, Verdiales y Granadinas: 1st prize of 2,500
pesetas to Antonio Ranchal Alvarez de Sotomayor, of Lucena (Cérdo-
ba). 2nd prize of 1,500 pesetas to Ramén de los Llanos Cano, of Cér-
doba. 3rd prize was not filled.
You may wonder why certain prizes were not filled. This is because
the judges will not grant a prize if none of the singers who participate
meet the necessary standards. You will also notice by the prize money
given that these contests are not money-making propositions (figure 60
pesetas to $x). They are truly ’’art for art’s sake’’ (although the prizes
seem to increase considerably in value with each new contest).
The contest is theoretically open to the general public only on the
last of its three days duration, when the winners are presented in the
local theater. This ruling is not necessarily enforced. It is thought that
this contest will be held each year from now on in various host cities.

(1) ’’Otdo al Cante’’, by Gonzalez Climent.

187
 LA LLAVE DE ORO DEL CANTE

The first event of the Golden Key of the Cante took place exactly
1oo years ago (1862), when Tomas el Nitri was presented with the key
in Jerez de la Frontera. It is well known that el Nitri was one of the
great cantaores of the past, but there are those who do not consider
this first award a very decisive test, as Nitri had no competitors. Accord-
ing to Fernando de Triana, this contest was no more than an informal
ceremony, in which the admirers of el Nitri presented him with a token
of their esteem.
The second Golden Key was presented to Manuel Vallejo in 1926.
I understand that this contest had few competitors, and that Vallejo
was not pressed to win. :
So as is obvious, the first two contests, celebrated some 64 years
apart, did not indisputably achieve their objective: that of choosing
flamenco’s best cantaor.
The third contest of the Golden Key of the Cante was heldiin May
of this year (1962), in Cérdoba, just one century after Tomas dl Nitri
was awarded the first key.
_ The contestants in this contest were necessarily few, as the require-
ments for entry were stiff. Each participating cantaor was required to
sing, authentically and well, the following cantes: the Tonds Grande
and Chica, the Deblas, the Martinetes, two cantes of their choice, and
three different styles of both the Soleares and the Sigutriyas, which had
to be chosen from the following list of styles:
Soleares of Siguiriyas of
Merced la Serneta Diego el Fillo
Joaquin el de la Paula Tomas el Nitri
Enrique el Mellizo Manuel Cagancho
Frijones de Jerez Curro Dulce
_Juaniquin de Utrera Diego el Marrurro
Paquirri el Guanté Manuel Torre
Qld style of Triana ‘Paco la Luz.
Old style of Utrera Loco Mateo -
Old style of Alcala Silverio Franconetti
Manuel Molina
Francisco la Perla
 . I cam assure you that there are not many cantaores who know this
much cante, and there are fewer still who can accomplish it well.
-. ‘The deserving winner of the Golden Key, and the accompanying
100,000 pesetas (the largest prize ever given in a flamenco contest), was
Antonio Mairena. Only four other singers competed ; Fosforito, Juanito
Varea, el Chocolate, and Platerito de Alcala.
‘4: Why did so few competitors show up? What happened to flamenco’s
other top cantaores? First of all, there were no secondary prizes, and
when the word spread that Mairena had entered, many worthy singers
decided not to risk it (the contest could have been made infinitely more
interesting if other prizes had been offered). Secondly, many excellent
singers, being specialists in certain cantes, are not able enough in all of
the cantes. required for the contest. Others, who definitely possess the
knowledge, ‘are old or in failing health, and their throats would likely
not have withstood the strain of a three-day contest (Juan Talegas,
Aurelio: Selles, Pepe de la Matrona, Nifia’ de los Peines, Manolo Cara-
col, etc.).
Mairena showed his superiority clearly over the other contestants.
He is presently in his prime (middle forties). His knowledge of the
Cante is profound, his style is pure, and his voice is strong, flexible, and
sure. There was little doubt before the contest that Mairena is today’s
tep all-around cantaor, and. the Golden Key has helped solidify his
position (although in my opinion there are other cantaores of lesser
category who come through emotionally stronger in certain cantes).
The guitar accompaniment was provided by two of flamenco’s most
respected guitarists, Melchor de Marchena and Manuel Moreno ’’Morai-
to’’. Melchor, hampered by an injured finger, still showed himself to be
far superior to Moraito, both as accompanist and soloist. Moraito often
exasperated both the singers and the audience by his insistence on play-
ing falseta after showy falseta while the singer sought an opening. His
playing in this contest (he can play better than he showed) was unim-
aginative, overly-technical, and generally uninspired.
The entire three nights of the contest were held in the open aur,
which detracted from the atmosphere considerably, and certainly made
it more difficult for the singers and the guitarists. A microphone had to
be used which, combined with being outside, produced the worst pos-
sible: conditions for serious flamenco.
‘As. an:entertaining sideline to the contest other artists were hired,
notably el Farruco, Carmen Carrera, and Paco Laberinto, dancers, and

189
the singer Manolo Mairena (brother of the Golden Key winner), all of
whom performed admirably. As a further attraction, the delivery of
the Key was coordinated with the opening night of the Ballet of Antonio,
and was presented to Mairena by Antonio himself.
A distinguished group of judges presided over the contest, includ-
ing Juan Talegas and Aurelio Sellés, cantaores, José Mufioz Molleda
and Mauricio Ohana, composers, Anselmo Gonzalez Climent, author,
and Ricardo Molina Tenor, poet.

I CONCURSO INTERNACIONAL DE ARTE FLAMENCO

The I International Contest of the Art of Flamenco, held in Jerez

de la Frontera in May of 1962, was in most ways disappointing. Besides
bad management, obvious inconsistencies of the judges and the ques-
tionable merits of some of the winners left a doubtful impression on
many of the aficionados present.
Ironically, this contest had the earmarks of being of special interest,
as it was the first attempt to judge all of flamenco’s components, the
Cante, Basle, and Toque, in the same contest on an international scale.
(As the reader will notice in this appendix, the other mentioned series
of contests, the ’’National Contest of Cante Jondo’’, and the ’’Golden
Key of the Cante’’, have been limited strictly to the judgement of the
Cante).
The rules, categories, and prizes of the contest were well thought
out. There were separate prizes for professionals and amateurs. Each
aspiring participant had to pass a preliminary test before being allowed
officially to enter the contest, which theoretically weeded out the
deadwood. There were separate groups of judges for the Cante, Baile,
and the Toque, and a special group to judge only the verses of the
cantes. Everything was thought of and provided for, and the contest
was looked forward to by the flamenco world as a step in the right
direction.
It was a step all right... but the direction is disputable.
A great deal of bad feelings were created by the mentioned incon-
sistency of the judges. Granted that they had a tough job; — but more
than just normal human error, many of their decisions showed signs of
ignorance and confusion. For instance, one singer was disqualified for
singing the Martinetes to guitar accompaniment, another for mixing

190
cantes. This is as it should be, and set the pattern for serious, traditional
interpretations. But then nothing was said to dancers who ended their
Soleares with Bulerias, or to guitarists who did not have the vaguest
notion of accompanying. One singer was disqualified for addressing the
public, another was not. Several singers were disqualified for not pre-
senting themselves on stage within a certain time after being called —
others were given another chance. These and other inconsistencies did
not pass unnoticed, and eventually an atmosphere of half-jovial, half-
bitter resignation, on the part of both the artists and the public, replac-
ed the seriousness that had marked the beginning. I will say that judg-
ing by the obvious dissension between the judges, at least some of them
were not in accord with the carryings-on. Unfortunately, a minority.

THE CANTE
The following is a listing of the categories and the winners of each,
as well as a discussion of the merits of the winning artists (the prizes
have been named after past greats who were famous for the cantes of
the particular category):
GROUP A) Siguiriyas — Serranas —Martinetes
Premio (prize) Manuel Torre of 50,000 pesetas for profes-
sionals awarded to Roque Montoya Jarrito, of San Ro-
que (Cadiz).
Premio Diego el Marrurro of 10,000 pesetas for aficionados
awarded to Antonio Cruz Ortega, of Puerto Real (C4diz).
Group B) Soleares — Bulerias
Premio Isabelita de Jerez of 35,000 pesetas for professionals
awarded to Terremoto de Jerez (Cadiz).
Premio Merced la Sarneta of 8,000 pesetas for aficionados
awarded to Luis Torre Cadiz, of Morén de la Frontera
(Sevilla).
GROUP Cc) Malaguefias (of Chacén, Mellizo, and Breva)
Premio Antonio Chacén of 35,000 pesetas for professionals
awarded to Pepe de Algeciras (Cadiz).
Premio Enrique el Mellizo of 6,000 pesetas for aficionados
awarded to Manuel Avila Rodriguez, of Montefrio (Cadiz).

1s]
GROUP D) Alegrias — Caracoles — Mirabrds
Premio Paco La Luz of 20,000 pesetas for professionals
awarded to Juan Acosta Jorge, of Jerez (CAdiz).
Premio Juan Breva of 6,000 pesetas for aficionados. No
prize money awarded. A trophy went to Mante! Castilla
Jiménez, of Huelva.
GROUP E) Fandanguillos de Huelva
Premio Pérez de Guzman of 20,000 pesetas for professionals
awarded to Rocfo Jurado, of Chipiona (Huelva).
Premio José Cepero of 5,000 pesetas for aficionados award-
ed to Francisco Cerrej6n Camacho, of Huelva.
The winner of group A professionals, Roque Montoya Jarrito, is
an accomplished pro with a wide variety of cantes, and mannerisms,
at his command. Some years ago considered the rising boy wonder of
flamenco, Jarrito has regrettably turned commercially smooth and
polished. To his credit, he sang perhaps the finest Martinetes of the
contest. His Siguivityas and Serranas were only adequate.
Jarrito has two basic flaws in his singing that detract from it con-
siderably, and should have Ieft him out of the money. One is his passion
for singing a good deal of a cante in such a low voice that it cannot be
heard beyond the fifth row. He does this not due to a lack of voice, but
as a means of better emphasizing the emotional parts of his caste, when
he comes on strong. This is an unnecessary theatrical trick not consider-
ed good cante. The other is his completely false presentation of his can-
tes. He is theatrical to the point of ridiculousness, and in the process
the emotion of his cante is lost (for some reason, in his interpretation
of the Martinetes he minimized both of these flaws, improving his can-
te one hundred percent).
Antonio Cruz Ortega, winner of group A aficionados, showed a
good knowledge of the Cante and excellent control of his voice. He
undoubtedly deserved his prize, although his style of singing is overly
complex, bottling up much of the emotion he seems to feel. If he could
simplify his virtuoso style I believe that his Cante would gain con-
siderably.
The winner of group B professionals, Terremoto de Jerez, was the
local favorite, although his appeal was beginning to wear thin by the
end of the contest. Terremoto sings three castes well: Soleares, Bule-

192
vias, and Siguiriyas.. When he strayed from these cantes (with the Se-
rranas and the Martinetes) he fell down badly, and for this reason he
and his followers had to grudgingly content themselves with the group
B instead of the group A prize.
Terremoto is also a polished performer — not quite as stickily
smooth as Jarrito, but nevertheless overly smooth. He has a magnificent,
rajo voice and great power, and an exceptional presentation of his can-
tes that appeals strongly to the crowd, as follows: he immediately
impresses by seating himself in the old-time style during the introduction
and build-up of his cante (one can almost picture Antonio Chacén,
except that Terremoto does not use a cane to beat out the compds),
and as he spins his web he seemingly becomes more and more involved
in his cante until he approaches the tercio grande. At that point, unable
to contain himself longer, he leaps to his feet and shouts out the climax
of the canfe at the ear-splitting top of his voice, his fleshy jowls bounc-
ing, his arms gesticulating wildly. The crowd roars its approval, and I
shall have to admit that the first time that it is viewed it is impressive.
But each succeeding time he sang he went through the same steps, and
finally the impact is lost when it dawns on the listener that this is just
Terremoto’s formula, that his singing is mathematically emotional, not
spontaneously so.
Luis Torre Cadiz, winner of group B aficionados, sang well. His
cante had merit, and he would have had a well-deserved prize in most
contests. It has to be recognized, however, that one of flamenco’s truly
great cantaores por Soleares and Bulerias, Manolito de Maria, was also
entered, and was eliminated unaccountably after singing the outstand-
ing Soleares of the contest, without so much as a chance to sing the
Bulerias. An unfortunate incident that caused a great deal of resentment
among knowledgeable aficionados.
Pepe de Algeciras, winner of group C professionals, is a 16-year-
old dark horse who stole the show. He showed a great knowledge of the
Cante, for his age or any age, and sang with purity and authentic
emotion all. of the cantes of the first three groups. In the opinion of
many he deserved the group A prize, given to Jarrito, and possibly the
group B prize, awarded to Terremoto. Oddly enough, the prize that he
was awarded should have been given to Juan Gambero Martin, of Fuen-
girola, the outstanding Malaguefas singer of the contest.
Pepe had his voice under complete control, and he showed himself
a master of the most difficult vocal manipulations. His style is straight-

193

15
forward, without tricks, and truly traditional. He was the most complete
cantaor of the contest (’’complete’’ including the term ’’authentic emo-
tion’’), and a great promise for the future.
Juan Acosta Jorge, of Jerez, winner of group D professionals,
appears a most likeable man, and is a good singer. But it is universally
agreed that La Perla de CAdiz (1st prize in this category in Cérdoba in
1959, in tougher competition), who placed out of the money, is superior
to him in the cantes of this category (Alegrias, Caracoles, Mivabrds).
Rocio Jurado, winner of group E professionals, is an actress who
dropped in from a nearby movie set to sing three Fandanguillos and
pocket her prize money, much to the amazement of the participating
professionals. She sang surprisingly well.

THE BAILE
GROUP A) Alegrias — Soleares
Premio Juana la Macarrona of 15,000 pesetas for profes-
sionals awarded to Carmen Carrera, of Sevilla.
Premio La Malena of 5,000 pesetas for aficionados awarded
to Pepi Garcfa, of Jerez.
GROUP B) Bulerias — Farruca
Premio Paco Laberinto of 15,000 pesetas for professionals
divided between Paco Aguilera ’’el Mendaiio’’, of Bar-
celona, and Angeles Gémez Sanchez, of Jerez.
Premio Fernanda Antinez of 5,000 pesetas for aficionados
awarded to Miguelito Cabezas Hidalgo, of Jerez.
GROUP C) Zapateado
Premio Juan el Estampfo of 10,000 pesetas for professionals.
No participants.
Premio Ramirito of 5,000 pesetas for aficionados had no
participants, but was awarded to a deserving Antonio
Silva Giles, of Badajoz, for his overall performance in
the contest.
Carmen Carrera, winner of group A professionals, is an excellent
bailaora who looks to have stepped out of a Spanish tourist poster.
Carmen in capable of dancing in a pure flamenco style, as she demon-

194
strated in this contest (although she did resort to castanets in the Solea-
ves), and also in a commercial style, which she employs for her night
club dancing, much to the annoyance of her admirers. By chance, no
other batlaores turned out for this group, and Carmen won the prize
without competition. Nevertheless, there are few dancers today who
could have bettered her showing.
To the contrary, the winner of the group A aficionados prize, Pe-
pita Garcia, is an almost embarrassing example of vulgarity and com-
mercialism in the Baile flamenco. On top of this, she simply does not
know how to dance. Although the dancing in this category was general-
ly bad, it is safe to say, without exaggeration, that all but one or two
of the participants in this category outdanced Pepita. This was perhaps
the most flamboyant injustice of the contest.
Of the other prize winners, Antonio Silva Giles, of Badajoz, showed
the greatest promise.
The Bulerias was the most widely danced baile of the contest. It
was danced with much gracia by the two oldest participants, La Chicha-
trona and La Pipa, both of Jerez. The best single dance of the contest
was a Bulerias danced by a boy about eight-years-old. He showed
himself to be the outstanding aficionado dancer of the contest, with a
poise, grace, and style far superior to that of his rivals (no prize).

THE GUITAR

Premio Javier Molina, for the best accompaniment of the Cante:

10,000 pesetas awarded to Paco Aguilera, of Barcelona, professional.
4,000 pesetas awarded to Paco de Algeciras, aficionado.

Premio Paco Lucena, for the best accompaniment of the Baile:

10,000 pesetas awarded to Juan Moreno ’’Moraito Chico”’, of Jerez,
professional.
2,000 pesetas awarded to Parrilla, of Jerez, aficionado.
2,000 pesetas awarded to Merengue, of Jerez, aficionado.
In my opinion, Paco de Algeciras, the 14-year-old brother of Pepe,
winner of the group C cante, was the revelation of the guitarists, playing
with a knowledge, feeling, technique, imagination, and sound that
branded him as the most potentially great of the guitarists present.

195
 Paco Aguilera played solidly, always correctly, but with a lack of
creativity needed to set him apart. In his favor, the sound of his guitar
was the most flamenco, and he accompanies well from long experience,
without showing off or competing with the singer. His counter-rhythms
in the Bulerias were exceptional. But in general his playing in this
contest was stolid and unimaginative.
The main fault of Moraito Chico was his muddy technique and
sound, which dampened his oftentimes creatively brilliant falsetas and
his undeniable duende. He gives the impression that he is sometimes
technically unable to bring off his complicated style, but that will pro-
bably be corrected with time. Moraito Chico has a wide knowledge of
accompanying, although he has a tendency to overplay (also the main
fault of his older brother, Manuel Moreno ’’Moraito’’) to the sometimes
distress of the cantaores.
Parrilla, in his late teens, gave the impression of being a specialist
in the Bulerias. He played a large number of excellent, old-time Bule-
rias falsetas which were a joy to hear. He was not as much at home
outside of his preferred toque.
El Merengue, another teenager from Jerez, played adequate all-
around accompaniments.
The other guitarists who participated, some five or six, ranged from
bad to worse. Given the task of accompanying the Malaguenas, Soleares,
or even the Fandanguillos, the results were generally fatal. Somehow
they all made it to the finals, which detracted considerably from the
showing of the singers, and from the show itself.
Jerez has announced plans to organize this contest every two years.
Aficionados would like to see it shape up, as it could definitely further
the cause of flamenco. Perhaps it will get over its growing pains and
become a respected institution, but I fear that it will take a good while
before the bad taste of this last contest is washed away.

196
 APPENDIX NO. 7

LEARNING FLAMENCO

Flamenco instructors have two basic methods of instruction: mem-

ory and cryptograph.
Memory instruction means exactly what it says; it consists of
memorizing the material given by the instructor, and practicing it until
it can be done reasonably well. At the end of a long period of memory
study the student will be familiar enough with flamenco to be able to
begin improvising his own material, take material from records, and
perform passages from memory that he may have heard only two or
three times. In the memory method the student will find that his mem-
ory will be improved considerably, as will his musical sense agd his
instinct of spontaneity.
‘The cryptograph method is that which utilizes a simplified form of
musical notation, and is sometimes employed to teach the Cante and the
Toque. This method has the advantage that the lesson is written, and
cannot be forgotten. It has the great disadvantage that it becomes a
crutch, A flamenco artist cannot carry reams of musical notation about
with him, and when he does not have it, he is lost. His memory does
not develop properly, and his creative ability will remain nil. The
student will find that after an initial easy period he will be hindered
greatly in his advancement. I have observed, both as student and
instructor, that the memory method gives by far the best results in the
long run.
As is true in any educational process, it is necessary to find an
instructor who has knowledge, sincerity, and a desire and ability to
teach. This is a difficult combination to find in flamenco circles, especial-
ly the latter, the ’’desire and ability to teach’’. Most flamencos are parti-
cipants, and become horribly bored as instructors.
You may note that I have ignored the technical proficiency of the
instructor — it is knowledge, not technical brilliance, that has to be
found. And within the realm of knowledge the ¢ype of flamenco knowl-
edge, the style of flamenco that the instructor emphasizes, is of utmost

197
importance. Is he basically a jondo, popular, or concert artist? Some
instructors can more or less carry off any of these styles, depending on
the situation. It is up to the student to decide on, and demand, the type
of flamenco on which he wishes to concentrate.
I am hesitant to recommend, in print, instructors of flamenco. I
know instructors who will teach some students well, and others badly,
or who will teach the gems of their knowledge to certain students and
not to others. Perhaps the best way to find an instructor is by asking in
flamenco circles who is available, and then determining who is best
suited to teach the style of flamenco that you want to lear. From then
on, it is trial and error.
PRICES
Guitar. In the United States individual guitar lessons will range
from a reasonable $5 an hour to an exaggerated $10. I know of one
instructor who charges an outrageous $15. México City is cheaper, the
going rate being $2 to $3 an hour. But Spain is the place to learn. In
the provinces lessons range from 30 to 75 pesetas (§.50 to $1.25) an hour
for first-rate instruction, usually including an introduction to flamenco
circles and juergas. In Madrid classes cost from 120 to 150 pesetas ($2
to $2.50) an hour, with a colder atmosphere and less juergas involved
(outside of Andalucia, very little flamenco is heard free of charge).
Excellent guitarists and instructors can be found all over Andalucfa, as
well as in Madrid and Barcelona.
Baile. Group classes in the States are from $3 to $5 per person per
hour, individual lessons from $10 to $20 an hour. A guitar accompanist
has to be paid apart. México City has cheaper individual rates (about
$5 to $z0 an hour). In Madrid the individual dance lesson, including
the accompanist, should never exceed $5 an hour. Outside of Madrid,
Sevilla has the only acceptable dance instruction to my knowledge, and
cheaper rates.
Cante. Flamenco singing lessons in Spain will run you about the
same, as the dance, if an instructor can be found; there is a general
belief among cantaores that foreigners are not capable of learning, or
singing, the Cante, which is, in most cases, true. Besides, they claim
that the Cante cannot be taught, but has to be acquired little by little.
It would take time, that is certain! The only singers that I know of who
have taught singing in Spain are Rafael Romero ’’Gallina’’ and el Nifio
de Almadén, both of whom reside in Madrid.

198
 APPENDIX NO. 8

BUYING A GUITAR

‘The choosing of a guitar is an important and complex business. It

is desirable to obtain a well-broken-in guitar, preferably a guitar at
least 10-years-old. This is because with age the guitar, like the violin,
gains certain qualities that new guitars cannot possess, such as complete
dryness of the wood, a beautiful, deep mellowness of tone, a settling of
the construction into its permanent state, and a definite knowledge that
the guitar is, or is not, one of the great ones. Many prospective guitar
buyers shy away from old guitars as they do from used automobiles.
They condemn an old guitar, for instance, if it has cracks in the wood.
This means nothing. The cracks do not affect the guitar, or its tone, in
any way. My guitar, a 35-year-old Santos, has several cracks which open
ccasionally with the weather. When the weather changes, they close.
f a crack becomes dangerously big, a stringed instrument repairman
an easily patch it, with no loss whatsoever to the guitar. If the cracks
ae merely seasonal, which is nearly always the case, they can be ignor-
d.
Conversely, the purchaser of a new guitar is always taking a risk.
New guitars are much more prone to damage, as the wood, and the
gue that holds the wood in place, are not completely dry. Especially in
cdd, wet, wintry climates, such as New York, Chicago, London, etc.,
nw guitars may warp badly. This is due to the fact that the wood takes
yars to be fully seasoned, more years than the guitar-maker usually
aows, due to the great demand for guitars, and the scarcity of the
wods used. When such guitars are subjected to excessive dry heat
(eating in the home, or the sun), the wood of the guitar is dried out
to rapidly, causing it to buckle or warp. This should be avoided at all
cets, as a warped guitar — especially the neck or the top — is extreme-
ly difficult to repair. This type of damage may be avoided by placing
adamp cloth in the case with the guitar, redampening as needed, and
keping the guitar well away from a heat source.
There are basic differences between the classical and the flamenco

199
guitars, The beginner, in quest of a flamenco guitar, will often confused-
ly buy a classical guitar. As a guide for the guitar seeker, the following
is a list of the differences in the various components of classical and fla-
menco guitars:
FLAMENCO GUITAR CLASSICAL GUITAR
I. Woods: body of cypress I. Woods: body of rose-
(preferably Honduras cypress); top wood; top of high grade pine;
of high grade pine; neck of rose- neck of rosewood; finger board
wood; finger board of ebony. of ebony.
zg. The tuning is traditionally 2. Mechanical tuning.
done by wooden pegs (preferably
ebony), although mechanical tun-
ing is also used.
3. Narrow side width, which 3. Side width up to 1”
shouldn’t exceed an approximate 3 wider than flamenco guitars.
3/4" —4".
4. Top dimensions approxi- 4. Generally larger in all
mately 19 1/4’’ long 14 1/4’’ wide dimensions.
at widest part.
5. Low bridge, which should 5. A much higher bridg
not normally exceed 1/4’’ in height. than the flamenco guitar, with ;
The bridge bone should also be low high bridge bone, causing th
to the bridge. This causes the strings strings to pass well over the nea
to lie much closer to the neck, which and the guitar proper, allevia-
in turn necessitates a gradual incli- ing the necessity of inclining tk
nation (cutting down) of the top of top of the neck.
the neck as it approaches the mouth
of the guitar. This inclination per-
mits the strings to lie close tothe
neck and to the guitar proper with-
out causing undue vibration. This
is one of the more difficult tech-
niques in flamenco guitar construc-
tion.
6. 32 1/2’’ approximate o- 6. Same.
ver-all length, not including head.
7. The wide type (media ca- 7. Same.
wa) frets are desirable.

200
 8. White or transparent tapp- 8. None.
ing plates are placed on the vulnera-
ble areas of the flamenco guitar as
protective coverings.
_ . These differentiations are only applicable in quality guitars, which
will usually start at about $100 on up in Spain. Cheaper guitars come
in all sizes, and are neither classical nor flamenco.

USED GUITARS
Outstanding used flamenco guitars are hard to find at any price.
The most eminent guttarreros (guitar-makers), in order of preference,
have been:
Santos Hernandez.—The most prodigious student of Manuel Ramirez.
Santos consistently produced remarkable guitars until his death
in 1942.
Marcelo Barbero.—A student of Santos Hernandez. Barbero was the
top flamenco guitar constructor at the time of his death in 1955.
Domingo Esteso.—Another student of Ramfrez. Esteso was second only
to Santos until his death in 1936.
Sobrinos de Esteso.—Two students and nephews of Domingo Esteso.
They have carried on in his same shop in Madrid, and are pre-
sently the most consistent producers of outstanding flamenco
guitars. Their first guitars date back to the year 1936.
José Ramirez._A nephew of Manuel Ramirez who, like Manuel, spe-
cializes in classical guitars, although he has some excellent fla-
menco guitars in circulation.
Arcdngel.—A student of Barbero, who has maintained Barbero's shop
in: Madrid and is presently one of the top flamenco guitar
craftsmen.
Miguel Rodriguez.—A Cordoban constructor who has long achieved a
small production of first-rate guitars.
Manuel Reyes.—A young Cordoban constructor who has some excellent
guitars in circulation.
Manuel Rodriguez.—A student of Arcangel who built guitars in Arcdn-
gel’s shop before moving to America.

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 Quality flamenco guitars of other constructors may occasionally be
found, but these will be their exceptions, not their consistent produce.
For that reason they have not been included here.
You may wonder at the conspicuous absence of such legendary
Spanish craftsmen as Manuel Torres (who built excellent guitars around
the turn of the century), and his illustrious student Manuel Ramfrez, one
of whose guitars is played, and praised, by Andrés Segovia. There are
few Torres guitars left that are in playable condition. I have handled
one, built around the year 1900, which was a smaller-sized (guitars have
grown considerably in the past 100 years) classical guitar of excellent
craftsmanship. But as there is little likelihood of your ever seeing a
Torres guitar, classical or flamenco, there is little reason to add Torres
to this list. Manuel Ramirez is not listed because he was dedicated to
the classical guitar, and built very few flamenco models.
. Great care has to be taken when buying a guitar supposedly made
by one of these famous gustarreros. It is not uncommon practice to find
that the Santos that you buy is not a Santos at all, but a guitar of a
less illustrious guitarrero with a false label. It is still likely to be a very
good guitar, possibly a Sobrinos or a Domingo Esteso, so you are not
being deceived treacherously. It is just one of those pardonable gita-
nerias (gypsy doings, not necessarily by gypsies), that supplements the
vendor's. pocketbook by 3,000 or 4,000 pesetas.
Nonetheless, there are. ways of parrying this type of practice. The
guitar-makers usually used their individual decorative design around
the mouth of the guitar. If you were familiar with the designs of San-
tos and the Estesos, you would be much less vulnerable. In addition,
these different craftsmen used slightly different techniques on the inner
bracing of their guitars. Of course, a study of these points would be
difficult and impractical. Perhaps the best rule of thumb is — if you like
it, and have the money to spend, buy it. Also, if you have any trust-
worthy guitar-minded friends, by all means bring them along during
the purchase.
-Be wary of the reconstructed guitar. The guitarreros find it good
business to obtain old, smashed shells of. famous-name guitars that still
have legible labels, and build around these labels until the guitars are
glistening masterpieces of reconstruction. They will then attempt to sell
these as authentic guitars of such and such a master. ’’See the label’’,
they will insist. It cannot be denied that they have a certain logic, nor
can guitar reconstruction be unconditionally condemned. It is just that

202
most of the guitar that you are paying through the nose for belongs to
the reconstructor, not the original craftsman. In addition, you will be
inheriting many of the risks of a new guitar, and few of the advantages
of an old one.
A note of special interest to used guitar seekers: a new folkloric
group has available used guitars of the above makers for those who do
not have the opportunity to track down their own on the Spanish mar-
ket. The group can be contacted by writing to: Estudios Flamencos,
Victor Pradera, 46 — Madrid.

NEW GUITARS
-If you are interested in a new flamenco guitar, the best risks at
the present time are:
Sobrinos de Esteso, Gravina 7, Madrid.—The Sobrinos are presently
considered the best constructors of flamenco guitars. They have
a maximum yearly output of 50 guitars. Price: about $150.
Arcdngel Fernandez, Jestis y Marfa 26, Madrid.—Price: about $125.
Miguel Rodriguez, Alfaros 15, Cordoba.—Price: about $125.
José Ramirez, Concepcién Jerénima 2, Madrid.—Although basically a
classical guittarrero, Don José occasionally turns out first-rate
flamenco guitars. Figure on a long wait. Price: about $150.
Manuel Reyes, Don Rodrigo 17, Cérdoba.—Price: about $100.
These are the world’s finest flamenco guitar-makers. First-class
work and materials can be expected from all of them.
Outside of Spain, new quality flamenco guitars can be acquired in
the following cities:
Los Angeles, California.—A budding guitarrero, Manuel Rodriguez, has
recently set up shop in Los Angeles. Before moving there, he
was one of the promising flamenco craftsmen in Spain. American
prices ($300-400).
New York.—Veldzquez has a good reputation as a flamenco guitar
craftsman. I cannot recommend him personally as I have never
come across one of his guitars. American prices.
The above listed are those with whom I have had personal dealings,
or whose reputation or guitars have reached my circumference. They

203
are considered the masters by the flamenco world, and their guitars
are much in demand by new guitar seekers.
The guitars ’’de la mala fama’’ (of bad fame) are those of Valen-
cia (Spain). These are the cheaper variety, which are used by guitar
strummers in general. They are suitable for flamenco beginners. Al-
though they have a lowly reputation within Spain, the guitars of Va-
lencia are usually superior to guitars of their same classification outside
of Spain. The master of the Valencian gustarreros is Telésforo Julvé,
whose cheap guitars are the best of that category in Spain, and who is
also capable of building quality classical guitars. His flamenco models
are mediocre.
One such Valencian maker, Vicente Tatay, has opened a branch
shop in New York, and is building highly-priced flamenco guitars for
sale on the American market. I have played two, and remain relatively
unimpressed. Tatay’s classical and cheap guitars are second only to
Julve’s in quality (of the Valencian guttarreros), while his flamenco
models are superior to those of Julvé.
Many visitor’s to Spain will notice a guitar shop in Madrid called
the ’’Viuda de Santos Herndndez’’, which means the ’’Widow of San-
tos Herndndez’’, and may be misled into thinking that they are buying
a guitar of the late master. His widow has maintained Santos’ old shop,
and has hired guitarreros who turn out fair guitars not-in any way com-
parable to the Santos’ masterpieces. She herself will be the ‘first to tell
you this if you understand Spanish.
American guitar factories also produce Spanish-type guitars, none
of which are suitable for flamenco, For lack of anything better, the
beginner can utilize one of these for practicing technique until he is
prepared to move on to a higher category flamenco guitar.
‘The imported German guitars on the American market are general-
ly preferable to American models of the same price range. The Swedish
’’Goya’’ is suitable only for beginning flamenco. The Japanese and
Italian models that I have seen are not yet worthy of consideration.

204
 GLOSSARY

Many of these terms have several meanings. Only those pertinent to this
book have been stated.

a palo seco — without guitar accompaniment. See page 54.

afici6n — a strong enthusiasm for something (in this case, for flamenco).
aficionados — enthusiasts.

afill4 — refers to a type of singing voice. See page 48.

aguardiente — a strong Spanish alcoholic drink, also called ‘dry anis’’.
algo — something. :
alivio — easing up, relief.
alto — up, high.
amigo — friend.
anda, primos — come on, cousins.
Andaluces — Andalucians.
arpegio — a guitar-playing technique. See page 67.
bailaor — male flamenco dancer.
bailaora — female flamenco dancer.
Baile — the flamenco dance.
baile — a particular segment of the flamenco dance.
bajo — down, low.
banderillas — barbed:sticks placed in the bull during a bullfight.
pandoleros — bandits.
ien — well, good.
bonito — pretty.
brazos — arms.
buenas tardes — good afternoon.
burro — donkey.
cabales — see page 138.
café — coffee, café.
cal6 — an impure form of Romani, the gypsy language; a mixture of Romani
and Spanish.
cambio — change; a change in a cante. See page 54.
cantaor — male flamenco singer.
cantaora — female flamenco singer.
Cante — flamenco singing.
cante — a particular segment of flamenco singing.
cantes camperos — country cantes.
caramba — an exclamation, such as “holy cow’’, or ’’holy smokes’.
caray — the same as caramba.
caseta — a small] dwelling; during provincial fairs casetas are constructed
as temporary party quarters for individual families or groups.
chico — little, light.
chiquillas — chicks, girls.
churros — a traditional Spanish pastry, consisting of deep fried flour, salt,
and water; often eaten with sugar.
claro esta — it is clear.
cola — tail, train of a dress.
compas — rhythm, beat.
con — with.
concurso — contest.
conquistadores — conquerors.
cofio — an exclamation, .not socially acceptable.
copitas — shots.
corto — short.
cuadro — group.
de — of, from.
desplante — a break in a dance.
Dios — God.
duende — soul of flamenco, feeling for flamenco.
eco gitano — literally '’gypsy echo’’; another term for ''voz afill4’’.
en fin — in summation.
entrada — entrance, beginning.
falseta — a melody played on the flamenco guitar. See page 66.
feria — fair.
Fiesta — spectacle of bullfighting.
fiesta — party.
finca — ranch.
fino — a type of sherry (wine from Jerez de la Frontera).
flamenco de verdad — pure flamenco.
gitana (0) — gypsy female, male.
gitanerias — gypsy doings.
gracia — charm, wit.
grande — large, exceptional.
guitarra — guitar.
guitarrero — guitar-maker.
guitarrista — guitarist.
guardia — guard.
guardia civil — civil guard.
gusto — pleasure.
hombre — man.
hondo — same as jondo.
intermedio — intermediate.
jaleo — hell-raising; also a component of flamenco. See page 76.
jondo — deep, profound.
Jota — a regional song-dance of northern Spain.
leche — milk; also an exclamation (not socially acceptable).
ligados — a guitar-playing technique. See page 68.
llanto — mourning, lament.
macho — (1) real man (2) an ending to a cante. See page 54.
maestro — master.
Manoletinas — a bullfight pass created by the bullfighter Manolete.
manzanilla — a type of dry white wine
mafiana — tomorrow, morning.
montilla — a type of dry white wine.
mucho — much, a lot.
natural — the most pure bullfight pass.
nifia — young girl; also a term of endearment.
no decir nd — not saying anything, not getting through.
no dice nA — he (she) says nothing, doesn’t get through.
novillero — amateur bullfighter.
novio (a) — fiance, bride-to-be.
olé! — shout of approval.
oye — listen.
ozi! — an exclamation (mispronuaciation of *’Jesus’’).
palmas — hand-clapping.
payo — non-gypsy. .
peleén — fighter; the creative section of a cante. See page 54.
picado — a guitar-playing technique. See page 67.
piropos — flatteries, compliments.
pitos — finger-snapping.
planteo — the beginning section of a cante. See page 53.
por — by, for, through.
primo — cousin; a gypsy term expressing friendship.
pulgar — thumb.
que — what, how.
quitapenas — sorrow (pain) killer.
rajo — raucous, hoarse.
rasgueado — a guitar-playing technique. See page 67.
rematando — finishing.
remate — finish off, complete. See page 54.
Romani — the gypsy language, a derivative of the Indian Sanskrit.
salero — wit, charm, full of life.
si — if.
si Dios quiere — if God wishes.
si — yes.
sierra — mountain range.
simpdtico — winning, charming.
temple — temperament.
tercio — section or passage of a cante.
tinto — red wine.
Toque — flamenco guitar-playing. See page 66.
toque — a particular segment of the Toque.
traje — dress, suit.
trémolo — a guitar-playing technique. See page 67.
tumba — tomb.
utrero — two-year-old fighting bull.
valiente — valient, brave.
venta — country inn.
verdad — true, truth.
veremos — we'll see.
viejo — old, old man, old one.
vino — wine.
voz — voice.
voz afilla — See page 48.
voz natura — natural (unadorned) voice. See page 53.
zapateado — footwork in the dance.
 IN PREPARATION BY
D. E. POHREN:
WHO'S WHO IN FLAMEN-
CO, a natural sequel to THE
ART OF FLAMENCO. Will
contain biographies of the
great flamenco artists of past
and present, as well as anec-
dotes, illustrations, and other
absorbing material about the
flamencos and their way of
life.
 THE ART OF FLAMENCO is an invaluable book for
the flamenco aficionado. Written by a recognized
authority in the field who has the double advantage
of being a flamenco guitarist and of being married to
a@ Spanish flamenco dancer and singer, this book
combines a rare insight intg the concept of flamenco
as well as into the art itself. It is by far the most
complete book on flamenco in any language, and the
only one of any scope in the English language. Also,
it is designed for everyone, from the beginner to the
most advanced aficionado. As such, THE ART OF
FLAMENCO is a valuable addition to everyone's
library.

Price:
Spain 195 Ptas.
Outside Spain $4,50
Central Distribution and Mail Order:
Lépez Romero
Victor Pradéfa, 46
Madrid, Spain.