In 1991, upon my return from the year I spent in Cuba, and after almost a decade in Vienna, I settled for three months at my "brother's" house. RafaThe eldest son of the woman my late father married, both in their second marriages. Rafa took me in at his home on Relator Street in Seville, which begins in San Luis (Pumarejo), crosses Feria, and ends at the Alameda, in other words, in the heart of flamenco's cultural district. I spent those months researching at the Library of Ibero-American Studies on Alfonso XII Street, now the Researchers' Residence and Library of Seville. There I photocopied a good part of the archive I've been compiling for three decades about the The impact of the New World on the consciousness of the Old, the theme of my lifeOf course, it was financed by me, since I have received hardly any public funding for my education, let alone for my work investigating the past of flamencoI've always been self-funded. Only once did the Ministry of Culture help me with my studies in Vienna—three hundred thousand pesetas over ten years, €180 a year. Luckily, I've always been resourceful and known how to make ends meet. With a guitar, I'll always have food on the table and a place to sleep. That's the beauty of not being too proud to do anything.
I confess that at the time I had no idea of the importance that Macarena neighborhood has had in the history of flamencoAnd I didn't discover it because of the wealth of information that existed at the time regarding the role those streets and squares played, apart from the statue of El Caracol and the bust of PastoraI learned that much later, reading the accounts of those who know. I crossed the Alameda hundreds of times, and walking along Amor de Dios and Tarifa streets I would reach Plaza del Duque, and from there Alfonso XII. Every day, there and back. I also didn't know that the famous Donkey Café, where the great Silverio He took his first steps as an entrepreneur and artist, and all those streets once wandered through them. flamencoThose who knew how to turn their art into a profession. The ignorance of the neophyte.
Of course, I haven't forgotten about the heat, something Seville has always forced me to endure, because the Biennial takes place in September and I've had to rehearse many biennials during August, especially with the great Javier BaronMany times I have suffered "the heat of Hispalis", which could well be the name of a satirical song.
"It all started in Seville. In the blessed Macarena neighborhood, where the foam of the flamenco He was born, he grew, and he made the genre great. And I, a Galician from Vigo, who never dreamed of getting where I am, working with whom I have worked, meeting whom I have met, having such illustrious friends as I have had and still have, having earned the affection of one part of the profession and the disdain of the other, as it should be, is a true blessing."
I've always been a bookworm. Drop me into an archive and hours fly by without me even noticing. And don't even get me started if it's packed with incunabula and documents that no one's seen for centuries. I feel like some kind of amateur Indiana Jones, without the risks, but completely enamored with the power of uncovering the hidden. I'm crazy about it. And let it be known that I don't do it for recognition, like so many of my colleagues do. Frankly, I couldn't care less; life's too short, and two of those days it's raining. Nobody knows the hours I have spent in my life studying the past to understand the present. Some prefer to compile the present into a single volume to make the scholar's work easier. A commendable endeavor. But what truly captivates me, as the Luthiers would say, is finding, after a month of sifting through papers, that one document that sheds light on a mystery or unravels the intricacies of a legend, often mishandled by misguided researchers seeking only what they want to prove, when historical research often, almost always, contradicts you, and what you discover completely contradicts your initial conclusions. That's why I advocate avoiding prejudices; it's healthier to reach conclusions than to speculate.
Those months in Seville were the first steps I was taking in my research, with a fairly clear idea of the path I wanted to follow. I had studied musicology in Vienna, which isn't a bad place for that specialty, and I learned a great deal alongside... Danilo Orozco The months I spent at his house in Santiago de Cuba. That titan of musicology helped me organize everything I had learned in Austria; he was, after all, a Summa Cum Laude graduate from the Humboldt University of Berlin, a true scholar. But it was in Seville that I first faced the daunting task alone, confronted by a sea of books, articles, and writings on the shared history of Spain and Latin America. I photocopied hundreds of pages, underlining them all these years, learning about a subject I had never studied before. It was a productive summer; it laid the foundation for everything I know about America. flamencoI'm not referring to data, but to ideas.
I was very lucky: after that summer in Seville I entered Deutsche Grammophone And I learned everything there is to know about the music industry, a job I left to write music books for four primary school grades, commissioned by the publisher SM. Thinking about how to explain music to young children is how you truly learn. I always say that I learn the most when I'm teaching. But above all, I've been the happiest person I've ever been. flamencofrom the day on Antonio gades He wanted me to help him compose the music for his latest ballet, FuenteovejunaWhich, of course, we all did together. Once it was completed, he offered me the position of third guitarist in the company, and that's where I really learned what it's all about. flamencoOn stage alongside a genius of dance and his company, and in dressing rooms around the world with that group of artists who gave me a masterclass in flamenco, my dear Antonio SoleraMay he rest in peace. Manuel Rodríguez El Perdi, Gómez de Jerez, Enrique Pantoja, Manolo Sevilla and Gabriel CortésA thousand days in a thousand theaters learning the trade.
And it all began in Seville. In the blessed Macarena neighborhood, where the foam of the flamenco He was born, he grew, and he made the genre great. And I, a Galician from Vigo, who never dreamed of getting where I am, working with whom I've worked, meeting whom I've met, having such illustrious friends as I've had and still have, having earned the affection of some in the profession and the disdain of others, as it should be, is a true blessing. I can only say that the flamenco It's my life, and if they take away what I love, I wouldn't be Spanish, I'd be from any other nation. That's just how it is.
"I always say that I learn the most when I'm teaching." That's right, teacher. I started to study properly the flamencoWhen I wanted to explain it to others. I can't afford to spend months in Seville going to the archives, but what I do know how to do, with great pleasure, is to share your findings with an audience outside of Spain, giving talks and writing articles for my fellow Dutch people. Your books are in good company on my bookshelf, which is slowly filling up with all the flamenco wisdom available on paper. I hope you continue researching and writing, because there's still room for a few more books on my shelf. And if not, I'll buy another one.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Marlies, a hug