WHAT A FANDANGO!

How, really, is flamenco seen
by various sections of foreign tourists? How do those without the benefit
of previous exposure to the art ( all of us at one stage if we’re
honest) view this strange musical phenomenon when they first venture onto
Iberian shores? Of course, almost everyone on the planet has heard the
word flamenco mentioned and, due mainly to a preconceived image of Spain
itself gained entirely by a stereotype that Spanish tourist boards often
claim they want to shun -but never actually do- in favour of the promotion
of that of a “New Spain”, the mind is conditioned to immediately
recognize flamenco at first encounter. Flamenco is, of course, castanets,
heel-stamping guys and gals in Cordoban hats and all those swirling polka-dot
skirts. Add of course a guitar or two and some old guy squawking his lungs
up in a corner and, well, there you have it. Eso es! Ole! We all know
flamenco.

painting by Anne Hanley

Despite this prior knowledge nothing quite prepares us for that first
cardiac attack of the cante voice when the male or female singer suddenly
howls at the moon in anguished fashion . After that we either make a hurried
bolt for the exit or are hypnotized into fascinated disbelief and stay
to confirm what we are seeing and hearing is acceptable under the “Noise
Levels Act” and not contagious. The dance has an equally staggering
impact when one of the seated group suddenly hurl themselves into violent
motion and make a totally unprovoked and frenzied attack on the boards
of the tiny stage. When we finally leave we are either hooked aficionados
(in the supportive rather than the experienced meaning of the word) or
we just don’t go back. Either way, our preconceived views of flamenco
suffer a major dose of readjusted thinking. Some of us may now associate
the recordings we heard with the visual image, and imagine we know flamenco.

Flamenco is an addiction that, like drugs,
should be left alone unless you wish to be committed to it for life

Ironically the trio of street musicians with strange bobbled hats, finger
cymbal, guitar and tambourine ( who play a varied selection of what you
will later find to be malagueñas and verdiales) are rarely mentioned
as flamenco-related at all as we tourists hurriedly turn away at the thought
of parting with a euro. Maybe because these songs are somewhat more melodic
and gayer in nature than most flamenco, everyone assumes they are just
folk music done by begging Gypsies. In direct contrast, the most exposed
villain of the flamenco misconception picture, “sevillanas”
is seen as the ultimate form of flamenco to the newcomer, due undoubtedly
to the recognizable elegance of the art of Spanish dance that uses arms
and almost arrogant posture to create a dance form that is so unique in
its grace and style that the stereotype fix kicks in immediately.

painting by Frank Brown

Lest you may think the author was born a knowledgeable aficionado of
the art who immediately knew a “siguiryas” from a cigarillo,
let me very hastily add that I too made some – or maybe all –
of these errors when first confronted by Spain’s magnetic impact
on the newcomer. Oh, how easy it is to be lulled by those warm, velvety
nights, hypnotic slaps of sea on sand and the rhythm of the guitar. Of
course, any newcomer to Spain at the present moment could well be forgiven
for any of these errors when assaulted by a cacophony of electric bass
guitars, keyboards and drum kits pounding out the ever popular rumbas
from countless bars and clubs, a scene which was the exception rather
than the rule when my own flamenco education commenced. Today’s
tourists find an even greater puzzle in identifying the art than ever
before. The answer is a relatively simple one: if the artists can afford
electric guitars, they probably are not flamencos.

Ignorance of certain flamenco rules landed me in yet another of the subtle
traps that the art of flamenco holds for the unwary. Oh, how proud I was
when a young Gitano who led a group in a small below-street venue, asked
if I had a request during a lull between rumbas and tangos. “Tócame
Fandango de Huelva” I declared grandly (well, I knew them from recordings
and I liked them, didn’t I…). His face suddenly assumed a “why
did I open my mouth” expression and he waved a hand exasperatedly
as he muttered “más tarde”, (later).

painting by Jeffrey Watts

So, what’s the problem? I asked myself, they’re a flamenco
group aren’t they? Naively I didn’t know that fandangos are
extremely regional and also personal to areas and individuals. To the
man’s great credit he did later raise a hand in my direction and
sing a hastily knocked-together fandango about pleasure in friendship,
ambience and Málaga or something or other that my phrase-book Spanish
could hardly cope with. Lesson learned; stick to requesting “Macarena”,
it’s what they expect from tourists. In real flamenco circles, I
later learned, requests are not the domain of tourists, and silence commands
far more respect than assumed – and usually wrong – knowledge.
And don’t go around thinking you are one of the gang after one request
at the rumba bar. They do the same thing with Germans and French tourists
every night .

Years later and far down the flamenco road now, I can take stock of just
what I have accrued as flamenco knowledge:

Real problems only start when we attempt to participate in the art itself
via learning guitar, taking dance classes or, much more rarely, due to
the language and the mystifying nature of the cante, singing.

Flamenco guitar; can easily be learned if you understand basic music
theory at three years of age, have a penchant for false nails, can afford
a fortune’s worth of new strings and are prepared to practise for
twenty years or so. Flamencos don’t read or write music. That’s
for us experts so we can show them where they are going wrong.

Flamenco dance is easy enough for those not gifted with natural rhythm,
as nothing you learn matches anything you already thought you knew about
dance and you can attain a form of arthritis of the feet in about a year.

Nothing quite prepares us for that first cardiac
attack of the cante voice.

Of course a basic background in Spanish language swear words can help
to make you look more professional when cursing the guitarist to cover
up your total confusion. Developing an arrogant look is also a must, as
is shoulder-length hair to flick about . Ballroom and Latin dancers have
been known to commit suicide when attempting this form of dance. One real
bonus is that you do learn to count to twelve without the aid of an abacus
or calculator. After years of practise you may master “something”
then find that it has been out of date since six months after you started…..
Stick to sevillanas as a five-year target, then you can get dragged up
by the chorus girls in the weekly hotel “flamenco show” and
possibly not make too big a total fool of yourself. Make sure someone
takes a picture of you “flamenco dancing” for the family album.

painting by Mary Vickers

Palmas (hand clapping), a sort of sped-up applause where you make sure
you stop before everyone else.The flamencos all seem gifted with a form
of mental telepathy that chops them all off together. Don’t be last
man at the party, or you’ll find the bar shut next time you go there.
Except for sevillanas it’s best to keep yourhands under the table
and dampen the sound. When in doubt…don’t.

And lastly (and very much leastly) “cante”, singing, that
is, but never call it that. It’s really a form of shouting, and
any foreigner who manages to master it is usually an ex-market trader.
The best advice I can give to potential cantaores, (“cantaoras”,
if you are female) is…..”forget it”, unless your mother
almost strangled you at birth or you had a severe dose of laryngitis in
which case you may very well be a natural. Well, always supposing you
know nothing about ordinary singing to start with that is. There are also
no English-language song books on the market so you won’t know what
to sing anyway. Better to just sit back and enjoy it all.It’s so
difficult that no two of them can sing together and the audience never
sing along. What sort of singing is that, I ask you? Wait till you get
back safely on the plane home and everyone can join in a rousing chorus
of “Viva España”. Serious flamencos used to rip their
shirts in agony at some of the older forms of the art, so their wives
invented “bulerias”, a much jollier clap-along rhythm, to
get them into a better humour before they got home and kicked the cat
or dived through the windows.

painting by Pal Fried

You may well have gathered by now that I am completely enthralled by
this magical art and almost wish I was just landing in Spain for the first
time and experiencing it all over again. Fascinating, compelling, elusive
in nature and description and totally frustrating , flamenco is an addiction
that, like drugs, should be left alone unless you wish to be committed
to it for life. What to those born to it is a simple art, to the foreigner
is as easily learned as Mandarin Chinese or nuclear physics, and more
bewildering than a Rubic Cube..

Jim Morris. 2005

Jim
Morris who lives in the United Kingdom, has been a flamenco-lover and
amateur dancer for 30-plus years. In his many trips to Spain he has always
sought out the culture and people who captivated him from his first visit,
and his writing is known for conveying a feeling of intimacy with southern
Spain and flamenco.