A tribute to Pastora Pavón 'La Niña de los Peines' (1890-1969)

La petenera se ha muerto
y la llevan a enterrar
No cabe por las calles
la gente que va detrás.

[“La Petenera has died, and they are putting her to rest,
the streets cannot hold all those who walk behind”]

Last winter, after a long illness, Pastora Pavón, greatest of all cantaoras, finally died. The legendary “Niña de los Peines”, intimate of great flamencos, acquaintance of princes, adored of aficionados, is no more. With her, also died another part of the dwindling memory of Flamenco's “Golden Age”, the era of great artists and great personalities, of which she was, perhaps the foremost. She was from Seville, and in true Sevillian style, ardent and colorful, she had lived her rich and varied life.

Pastora was born of gypsy parents on an obscure street in Seville's barrio of San Román, a parish distinguished only by its possession of the image of the Virgen de los Gitanos. She continued to live most of her life in her native city. At an early age, she and her brother, Tomás, began to sing professionally in taverns, first in Seville, then in several cities in the north. Pastora was a phenomenal success and eventually entered the glittering world of the café cantante. Her early specialty was the tango and she is said to have earned her nickname, “Niña de los Peines”, from the famous tango “Péinate tú con mis peines” which became associated with her in the early years. In her youth Pastora knew intimately most of the great cantaores of the first part of this century and her long love affair with Manuel Torre probably left a deep impression on her later cante.

In her prime Pastora's name was synonymous with the colorful and disreputable world of the Alameda de Hércules. Now a second-class neighborhood of shabby, once-grande houses, the Alameda was then the center of Seville's lively night-life and the last remnant of the now mythical Andalusian world of ‘juerga', cante and bullfighting. In this atmosphere Pastora's flamboyant taste and exuberant spirit were entirely at home. Basically ugly, she dazzled all with the pride and confidence of her carriage, the brilliance of her smile and of course, with her cante.

In 1933 “La Niña” married the well-known singer Pepe Pinto in ultra-Sevillian style, that is, at the feet of the Virgen de la Macarena. She was to remain with Pepe until his own death, shortly before her own.

She was that rarest of rareties,
a cantaora who sang everything and sang it not only well,

but magnificently

With the decline of the Alameda and the loss of interest in the gypsy cante, Pastora began to experience difficulties. In 1949 she made her last attempt to reach the public in an expensive theatrical presentation in which she starred. The show was a disaster. Enraged and disappointed, she retired from public life, singing only at gatherings of friends. She made a brief appearance at a 1961 performance in her honor, but was otherwise rarely seen except as she sat, dressed in black and wearing dark glasses, outside her husband's tavern, the Bar Pinto, on Seville's Campana. Late in 1969 Pepe himself died. Pastora followed him by only a few months. The loss to the flamenco world is, of course, incalculable.

The greatest homage we can pay Pastora now is to love and understand her particular kind of cante and the Flamenco spirit from which it sprang. She was that rarest of rareties, a cantaora who sang everything and sang it not only well, but magnificently. Her enormous repertoire ran the gamut from the most serious to the most frivolous cantes and reflected her long association with some of the most knowledgeable cantaors of all time, in particular, Manuel Torre and her brother Tomás. She stood in the tradition of both the singers of Triana and those of the province of Cádiz . This broadening of stylistic horizons was widespread in the period of the café cantante as widely traveled professional singer, rather than local specialists, became the central figures of the Flamenco world.

There was a basic difference in Pastora's renditions of cante grande as versus her cante chico . She was conservative in her attitude towards the great cantes and sang them straight and unembellished, following the stylistic examples of Manuel and Tomás. Many old songs probably owe their preservation to her remarkable memory, just as others owe their revival and aggrandizement to her deeply creative brother. In contrast, Pastora's own creative abilities were spent on the lighter styles. She transformed simple Andalusian folksongs like the Petenera and Bambera, into cantes of stylistic richness and nostalgic depth. Her cante chico sparkled with wit and humor. She was one of the finest singers of bulerías, and reigning queen of the tango. Her artistry was infallible and she alone seemed capable of transmitting the otherwise insipid styles of the “Latin American period” into something Flamenco.

Defiance and reslessness, as if some great
source of power were being contained
and released in sudden bursts

Much of the appeal of Pastora's cante can be attributed to her remarkable voice. Though raspy and nasal in her later years, it always remained extraordinarily flexible. To study her old recordings is to become aware of notes that are more felt than heard, so subtly and swiftly are they introduced intro trills and arabesques. This sheer technical perfection makes imitation of her personal renditions a formidable task for any singer. But more importantly, the spirit of her cante was unique. A woman of great energy, Pastora's delivery was characterized by a note of defiance and reslessness, as if some great source of power were being contained and released in sudden bursts. In her ardor and tension she contrasted sharply with her brother, Tomás (whose voice is similar and stylistic predilection identical), for Tomás' cante is essentially serious, even solemn. (Compare for instance recordings by Pastora and Tomás of the same Soleares of Sarneta).

American lovers of the cante own Pastora a particular debt. In a time when flamenco was little heard and less understood in this country, the international fame of la Niña de los Peines made her one of the few Flamenco artists known here. We eagerly awaited her voice on Pru Devon's “Nights in Latin America ” and treasured the scratchy copies of her old 78's. She represented the world of the “true cante” which we knew existed but knew nothing else about. How fortunate, indeed, that the earliest object of our desire and adoration should have been that paragon of artistry, the great Pastora. Pastora…gracias.

Old recordings of the voice of Pastora Pavón have been reissued on EMI Regal, 1 J040-20, 077 M;Odeón 7EPL 13, 228; and Odeón 7EPL 13.335.

The cante of Tomás Pavón can be heard on Gramafono-Odeón EPL 14.289.

An unusual record by Pepe Pinto, probably the greatest of his long career, was made shortly before his death. It is called, prophetically, “Homenaje de Pepe Pinto” (a Tomás y Pastora Pavón), on Discophon S.C.2.040.

Antonio Núñez, “El Chocolate”, recognized heir to the Pavón school of singing, has made numerous recordings for Hispavox including an LP, HH 18-1160.

More information:

Pastora Pavón – Historic work presented in Seville
'Niña de los Peines' Andalucía's Heritage CONGRESS: 'PASTORA Y SU TIEMPO'.