Those of you of you here reading these words already know that flamenco is a highly contagious cultural force that infects you almost without your noticing. A thread of song on the radio, your mother softly humming a song under her breath, a bricklayer at the construction site next door singing himself a fandango of Carbonerillo… endless pathways that open a little mental doorway at any age and in any place. There’s usually no turning back: that strumming of guitar strings, or the thread of a voice, wounds you deeply and indelibly, and from that moment on you devote yourself to following the flamenco path.
My flamenco world took shape in the early years of the XNUMXs, and it revolved around three particular figures. There were great cantaores everywhere – Terremoto, Pastora Pavón, Fernanda de Utrera, and so many other masters of traditional flamenco singing. But it was not the artistic greatness alone; it was a kind of sixth sense, a way of organizing the cantes and understanding the importance of each one.
"Fosforito had a didactic inclination, participated in congresses and talks, and was always willing to answer the questions of fans. A great academic and a great interpreter of..." cante whom he loved so much. His recent passing has been very hard for the fans to accept."
<scan>Antonio Cruz García received the prestigious Llave de Oro del Cante in 1962 in recognition of his research work, although his staunch defense of the “purity” of cante earned him the reproach of certain sectors right up to the present day.</scan>
<scan>After his death, the Asociación Nacional de Críticos e Investigadores de Flamenco kept his name alive through the “Miguel Acal” Critics’ Award, presented to outstanding flamenco artists. Last year, in 2025, Miguel Acal was posthumously awarded the Yerbabuena de Plata in recognition of his contribution to flamenco. ♦</scan>





















































































