kitarist -> RE: Flamenco-related Timeline 1740 - 1881 (Nov. 7 2021 20:35:03)
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And I found another book from 1838 about travels in Spain that I had missed before, so will post from it in this post. Written by Italian-born Carlo/Carlos/Charles Dembowski (1808-1853), it is called "Two years in Spain and Portugal 1838-1840", published in 1841 in French. Charles Dembowski was the older brother of astronomer Hercules Dembowski (who has a crater on the Moon named after him). Their parents were Jan Dembowski, a Polish Napoleonic general, and Italian Matilde Viscontini who later became French writer Stendhal's muse. Here are some interesting excerpts from his trips in 1938 to various cities – Granada, Sevilla, Cadiz, Manzanares, Malaga. In Manzanares he describes in detail the dancing and accompaniment (including guitar work) of manchega which he calls a type of fandango. In Sevilla he mentions Triana and gitanos in a nice scene of festive mood. In Cadiz he advises his reader to not overlook going to the gitano quarters to hear them playing a Playera. In Granada he gives some history about fandango and names several popular dances. In Malaga he describes in great detail what seems to be a flamenco or flamenco-adjacent juerga. While only the Malaga excerpt and the Cadiz mention may be of any relevance to flamenco (as the rest I think involves folk dances and non-gitanos), I excerpt all of it below for general interest as well as in case someone like Ricardo with his detailed musical and musically-informed historical knowledge about flamenco can pick up on something else that is actually relevant. Excerpts follow below; free access to the complete text in French here: https://archive.org/details/deuxansenespagn00dembgoog/page/n6/mode/2up pp. 137-139: (Manzanares, Jul 1838) “Manchega is a kind of fandango, but much more lively than the original fandango. It has three parts, and this is how we dance and sing it at the same time. The dancers being arranged in pairs in two lines facing each other, the guitarists scrape a rich arpeggio in A, which serves as a prelude to the song, then they hum in a low voice the first line of the verse they propose to sing: it often happens to them to repeat it in the same way during the first four bars of the tune. Then silence of the voice, and three new bars of scraping on the guitars. As soon as the fourth begins, they sing the verse of which they had hummed the first line. Here the castanets are heard and a lively dance, a curious mixture of fandango steps, the jota and noisy taconéos (double heel kicks), begins between the lady and the rider of each couple. The dance continues for nine bars, the last of which marks the end of the first part of the manchega. “After which the guitarists scrape a new arpeggio, which continues until each pair of dancers has changed places with the couple facing them, which ladies and riders perform, without ever touching their hands, by means of a walk filled with gravity, which contrasts very singularly with the mad gaiety that everyone displayed a moment ago. When all the couples are established in their new places, the songs resume, and with them, for nine more bars, the taconéos and the expressive and passionate poses. This second part completed, the couples return to the old square. “The third part of the manchega is performed like the first, always in the midst of songs and dances, but with this additional curious peculiarity: in the middle of the ninth and last measure of the aire/song, chants, guitars, castanets, suddenly fall silent, while the dancers, for their part, stop in the position, usually very graceful, in which the sudden interruption of the music has surprised them. This silence, this general immobility, succeeding so imminently so much animation and gaiety, produces an effect the charm of which we can easily imagine. The set of poses of each pair of dancers is what is called the good parado; and each one pays particular attention to ensuring that, when the music ceases, its last pose is pleasing to the eye. As far as women are particularly concerned, they make such soft arm turns, so fast taconéos, so graceful steps, so varied, so tight, they finally take such sweet attitudes, that if they are pretty , seeing them dance we forget any kind of philosophic.” p. 159: (Sevilla, Aug 1838) “The gypsies are perhaps the only ones here who have gained something from the suppression of convents, because of the little kindness the monks had for them. Currently they reign supreme in the suburb of Triana, so called in honor of Emperor Trajan, who is claimed to have been born there. Nothing was more amusing these last few days than to see their good mood overflow on the occasion of the feast of Santiago, patron saint of Spain. The bridge of boats that unites their neighborhood to the city was swarming with lanterns, their streets were carpeted with lemons and oranges, and the whole suburb swam in an atmosphere of oil smoke, which rose from the donut stoves of the gitanas. I would have defied you to escape them. Two of them came to meet me with a kind smile, took my hands and said: "Ah! Que buen mozo, venga usted aca “. They dragged me to their stoves.” p. 173: (Cadiz, Sep 1838) “Another amusement which the traveler should not disdain here is to go in the evening to hear the gypsies sing the Playera in the quarter they occupy, between the prisons and the mud gate.” pp.219; 225-226 : (Granada, Sep 1838) “There is a Couplet de la Rondena, it is the Andalusian fandango, which all the ladies know by heart, and which will tell you all that Granada has preserved of old Spanish customs. [..] “The popular song is so intimately linked to dance in Spain that you will allow me to say a few words about it as well. No other people have had a greater number. Unfortunately the origin of folia, cumbe, gallarda, chacona, zàcara, canario, is lost in the mists of time, and not only are they no longer danced by anyone, but I even doubt that there is someone able to tell us what they consisted of. “As for fandango, we know that it was in the spotlight in the fourteenth century. It was not, however, until 1740 that it was submitted, as well as the manchega with its fixed principles and rules, by Don Pedro de la Rosa, a monk gentleman whom the bad state of his affairs had forced to throw himself on the theater. Twenty years later, Don Sébastien Zerego invented a new dance; he danced it so lightly that it was difficult to catch the moment when his feet touched the earth. So the inhabitants of La Mancha took to saying that Don Sébastien _volaba_, was flying, and he was only called by the nickname of volero or bolero, the flying man, a name that remained in the dance itself. By extension all the dancers were then called boleros, and the dancers boleras or bolerinas. “At the same time, in Andalusia, they danced tirana, polo, zorongo, cachirulo. The guitarists sang couplets of four verses with assonant endings, the dancers follow the phrases of these various tunes, moving their bodies early to the right, sometimes to the left, and moreover waving their handkerchiefs or their hats in front of their ladies, who, for their part, gracefully swung their aprons, in the manner of the dances of the ancient Gaditanes. Subsequently, the abuse of these gestures became such that all these dances ended up being banned from any meeting however decent. The charming melodies in which they were performed remained, however, and the famous Spanish composer, Don Vicente Martin, introduced them with immense success in the operas which he performed in the theaters of St. Petersburg, Vienna and Naples. “ pp.249-252 : (Malaga, Nov 1838) “Yesterday, very early in the morning, the blind came to remind me by a sort of serenade that it was Saint-Charles, the feast of my glorious patron. They sang, accompanying themselves on the violin, the guitar and the Basque drum: Los mûsicos decimos Con alegria : Tenga el senor don Cârlos Su feliz dia. Libre de danos Que la tenga feliz Por muchos anos. “My fellow boarders then came to congratulate me in their turn, and to show them all my deference to Spanish customs, and at the same time satisfy my own curiosity, I offered them a gypsy ball for the evening. The procurator, a man of great thoughtfulness, immediately offered to find the gypsies for me, and they, who are continually in trouble with the law, accepted the invitation of the man at the bar as good fortune. . “At nine o'clock in the evening, everyone having gathered in dona Mariquita's shop, in my capacity as patron of the party I gave my arm to the two most beautiful gitanas, and all the guests followed me into the room. of the ball which was lavishly lit by an old lamp with three beaks, held up to the ceiling by a piece of string. “The gypsies, eight in number, three men and five women, took their places at the back of the room. Among the women stood out Rita by the expression of her Moorish physiognomy and the richness of a voluptuous figure free from all ties. A curl of black hair adorned with a rose fell from her left temple, and her short Indian dress left uncovered a cute foot imprisoned in a white leather pump, to make all Parisian beauties, even Chinese beauties, jealous. “Near Rîta sat fat Joana, her mother, twice our size, and all covered with chains and chains of good and fine metals. She goes among the gitanas of Malaga for having imprisoned the devil in her home, and this belief has made the fortune of the stove of chestnuts that she maintains in Constitution Square. “Pepe, the most successful dancer in Malaga, where he lives making false keys and holding a cabaret, wore white trousers, a red scarf, a shirt with a huge frill, and a ring hanging from his left ear. with a small hand making the horns, which reminded me of the Neapolitan jattatura. “Rita took hold of the guitar, and the elegant abbot, Don Pedro, opened the ball by dancing a fandango with Dolores, a young worker embroiderer who works at Dona Mariquita. My abbot's pirouettes will not scandalize you, because you doubtless know that priests are not excluded from the rights of nations at Spanish balls. “On the arrival of the tenor and the bass, who came out of the Opera where they had sung Semiramis, the songs and dances of the gypsies began. One of them accompanied by scraping the guitar the verses of the Playera, a song which the inhabitants of the beach adore, which men and women sang alternately, marking the time with a clap of the hands of a very curious effect; this is called palmoteo. “From time to time a gypsy would dance with his gypsy. Imagine the dancing couple. Pepe and Rita are placed opposite each other, left arm on hip, right foot back, and await the end of the verse. Suddenly the bitter noise of the castanets dominates the palmoteo and the sound of the guitar; it is Pepe and Rita who dance at the same time, reproducing the same movements of arms, feet and head. This is the promenade or the first part of the Playera; Then, when Pepe rushes towards Rita, she runs away from him, annoying him, and when Rita advances, Pepe escapes her in turn. There comes a time when the gypsies resume their songs and mingle with them exclaimations which seem to intoxicate the dancers, and, strangely enough, react on the singers and the spectators themselves. “Ola jaleo! Eche usted azucar! Ande usted salada! Viva ese cuerpo! Muerte! Alma, alma! Ole! ole! ola! ” Exclamations full of verve and animation in Spanish, and which could only be translated very imperfectly into French. All the trained spectators repeat these words; Joana's loud voice dominates all the others. “Rita's movements are those of a Bacchante, while her face is that of Pythonisse. Lightning flashes from her black eyes, which pursue the invisible god whose influence she is under; each of its members quivers and throbs with new life. The gypsy flutters around her animated by a similar fury; finally find me some words to tell you about the accidents of this pantomime filled with passions, happiness, pleasure. Everyone applauds Pepe and Rita who, drawing new strength from numerous bowls of punch and anisette, danced several times that night. “After supper a young widow sang with great charm the gracious songs of the Tripili-tripàla, the Panadera and the Contrabandista. “We then heard a gypsy; butcher by trade, whose father is so overweight that he is called 'The Full Moon of Malaga'. Despite rare talent on the guitar, and despite his beautiful voice, he was hateful to hear because of his horrible pronunciation. He preceded each vowel with a v, so that the words of the song came out of his mouth as disfigured as they were ridiculous. Nothing could give you an idea of the vanity of this gypsy. Knowing that I was a foreigner, he found it pleasant to constantly interrupt the verses to offer me the guitar and invite me to pretend to hear in my turn: "Ahora cantarà usted!" Now it's your turn to sing! When he took the falsetto he stiffened and waved his legs like a possessed man, and invited his neighbors with real kicks to pay him a tribute of admiration. "The dance was still going on, when, hearing six o'clock strike in the morning at Clock of the cathedral, Dona Mariquita, who was in a great hurry to open her shop, asked us to put an end to the celebration.”
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