Before mairenismo, and for decades, ópera flamenca held sway, a school of ornate singing that served as a link toward the relative austerity of mairenismo. But if we look for it, between operismo and mairenismo there was also the reign of the Hispavox Anthology, directed by guitarist Perico el del Lunar and recorded by the French company Ducretet Thomson. It proved to be an important link in the transition between the old or classic singing and the current “classic” style that might be called camaronismo, without losing the powerful influence of maestro Antonio Mairena.
It’s possible that El Gallina is the standout performer of the anthology, as well as the one with the most powerful presence. There’s an organic lament in his delivery, the power of sad sweetness in his siguiriyas, caña, tonás, peteneras, alboreá, debla, martinete, and mirabrás. Always bearing his unmistakable stamp, alongside Perico’s original guitar work…the guitarist even had to teach some of the forms to the singers.
"Pain that aches beautifully, pain that delivers the cantes as they are meant to be, and as you’ve never heard them before, a musical riddle… How good flamenco singing is, how it enriches our existence"
Adjectives come pouring out… Pain that aches beautifully, pain that delivers the cantes as they are meant to be, and as you’ve never heard them before, a musical riddle… How good flamenco singing is, how it enriches our existence. And that face of El Gallina’s, with its indigenous features, a poem of intense, lived emotion that has left its mark.
Rafael Romero sang for dance in the companies of José Greco, Teresa y Luisillo, and Antonio, as well as at the Seville Flamenco Biennial, in Madrid tablaos, and in recordings made in Japan. The only contact I had with him was at the Congosto bar, where the cantaor used to stop by carrying himself with the elegant bearing of a patriarch, a monument to the flamenco singing of an earlier era. ♦





















































































In her later years, she sang in a bar. flamenco from Madrid (it wasn't La Solea, nor of course El Candela, which was another world, perhaps El Silverio). I went to hear him very often and felt a strange mixture of excitement and sadness, almost vicarious embarrassment. I'm sure they paid him next to nothing for singing, being at that time the greatest of the old guard (the generation before the one of CamarónSometimes people wouldn't even shut up to listen; they just kept drinking and talking, even though they were supposed to be fans: otherwise, why go to those kinds of bars? I imagine Gallina must have suffered terribly from such disrespect. And he just had to put up with it because he had to pay the rent.
Thank you for remembering him.
I performed with him once at Cafe Silverio in the 1980s. I had memorized much of his cante as a teenager – it was one of the few recordings of cante I could find in the 1970s in the US. That helped me be able to accompany him, including changing key for his seguiriyas decambio – he looked at as if to say “how did you know?”
He was very gracious and greeted me warmly when we met in the street. I am very lucky to have known him.