It’s impossible to speak of flamenco without mentioning Jerez. And when you speak of Jerez, two constants which conform the flamenco life of this town cannot be overlooked: the families and the neighborhoods. For those of us not from Jerez it is sometimes hard to fathom the importance of this hierarchy, much less, what it represents in real terms. Here professor Pierre Lefranc defines and describes the identities of the main flamenco neighborhoods of Jerez, Santiago and San Miguel, and provides a historic perspective that helps untangle the sociocultural jigsaw puzzle.
Pierre Lefranc
In the
mid-15th century, when the «reconquest» of Muslim Spain appeared
to be entering its final stages, significant developments took place
in southwestern Andalusia’s urban population patterns. One of Seville’s
extramural districts, or ‘arrabales’, Triana, which lay beyond the
city walls and across the River Gualalquivir, grew substantially,
and three similar new arrabales developed at Jerez de la Frontera
and Cádiz. They were San Miguel and Santiago in Jerez, and
Santa Maria in Cadiz. Centuries later, long after they had been
granted the status of barrios, these three districts and Triana
itself, were Andalusia’s most important centres of Gypsy population
and culture.
The Gypsies developed an interest
in some of those traditions which were losing their channels of
transmission but not their popular appeal
It seems highly probable, then, that when the Andalusian Gypsies
gave up nomadism at some unknown period during the 16th or 17th
centuries, they decided to settle down in these new urban areas,
as well as in Triana. They probably had no real choice: the walled
cities were off-limits at night to potentially dangerous minorities,
who were thus firmly invited to keep to the districts outside the
walls. Significantly too, scattered evidence clearly points to cultural
exchanges and transfers between some of the minorities whose place
in society was unsettled at that time: professional minstrels (juglares),
the descendants of African slaves, servants who were adrift after
losing their Muslim master, and, later, the Muslims who had officially
converted to Christianity (moriscos).
The Gypsies developed an interest in some of those traditions which
were losing their channels of transmission but not their popular
appeal, and which, in this way, entered into the fabric of what
later emerged as ‘flamenco’. Eventually, it would seem,
the Gypsies managed simultaneously to retain their own identity,
outline the other minorities and relay part of their cultures to
us.
A short walk in Jerez today can take one along the remains and
memories of its walls. Starting from the Alcázar and the
nor-west side of Arenal, one follows these streets: Calles Agustín,
Larga, Por-vera, Ancha, Muro, Ronda del Caracol, Puerta de Tora,
and then back to the Alcázar. The arrabal of San Miguel developed
on the south side of the walled city, looking out towards the River
Guadalete and to the east and south. The arrabal of Santiago grew
on the other side, north of the city, with direct access to the
fertile lands which fan out between Rota and Lebrija. Santiago is
centred on Calles Merced, Nueva, Cantarreria, Taxdirt (formerly
De la Sangre) and Marqués de Cádez, while San Miguel
extends west of the Plaza San Miguel and includes Calles Empedrada,
Alamos, Sol and Corredera. San Miguel is often referred to by the
Gypsies who live there as the ‘Plazuela’ (or small square),
which is a plazuela of the mind.
San Miguel is often referred to
by the Gypsies who live there as the ‘Plazuela’ (or
small square), which is a plazuela of the mind.
Plazueleros: Loco Mateo, Serneta, Agujetas padre, Chacón
An interesting aspect of this geography is the uneven distribution
and peculiar characteristics of cante in each of the two barrios,
in terms of song-forms, great figures and creative artists. Manuel
Molina, who left no fewer than five siguiriyas, nearly all monumental,
came from San Miguel. So, too, did El Loco Mateo, who reoriented
the siguiriya; Diego El Marrurro, who created the most poignant
cante of all; and Joaquin La Serna, who suggested the need for a
return to austerity and haughtiness. Merced La Serneta, a creator
all in a class of her own who refounded the tradition of the soleá
by centring it on emotion, also came from San Miguel. Though she
lived most of her life in Utrera she retained links with San Miguel
and returned there at times. Antonio Chacon, although not a Gypsy,
was also born in San Miguel. His creative talents took other directions,
but he recorded a number of songs by others artists from his old
barrio: La Serneta, Manuel Molina, and El Marrurro. These names
by no means make up a full list. Among the great cantaores who made
recordings, and in some cases left their mark on some cantes, are
Manuel Torre, Agujetas padre, his son Manuel, Rubichi and Tio Juane.
Juanito Mojama, too, hailed from San Miguel, but his father came
from Santiago.
San Miguel’s cumulative
achievement leans towards the forceful expression of naked grief
San Miguel’s cumulative achievement leans towards the forceful
expression of naked grief – cante which tends to move towards
paroxums – though with a note of frequent revolt or occasional
haughtiness. There are, of course, exceptions: we are dealing with
a cradle of individualists. La Serneta always stands apart: her
genius sprang from her femininity and would have borne fruit anywhere.
But the urgency of emotion in the songs she left probably comes
from San Miguel.
Santiago’s achievement is substantially different. It came to prominence
slightly later with Paco La Luz, whose main siguiriya is a model
of classicism in the evolution of this songform. It was continued
discreetly by Jose de Paula, whose talent for concentrating on absolute
essentials and saying no more cannot be matched. But Santiago’s
legacy also takes on a rich collective dimension with simultaneously,
a network of families, a cluster of cantes and a galaxy of great
singers: Antonio Frijones, Juanichi El Manijero and El Gloria among
the creators; Borrico, Terremoto, Sernita, the Pableras and the
Sorderas among the talents of yesterday; and those of today: Jose
Merce, Fernando de la Morena, Luis El Zambo and others. Santiago’s
collective achievement is less singular and less vehement than that
of San Miguel, but its distinction lies elsewhere. In Santiago,
grief is simultaneously vented and controlled, and discipline reins
in paroxysms. At the same time, while San Miguel offers a succession
of individualists, Santiago deploys dynasties which nurture certain
forms in which cante itself remains a family heirloom and a communal
heritage.
In Santiago, grief is simultaneously
vented and controlled
Santiagueros: Sordera, Borrico, El Gloria, Sernita
In festive cante (cante festero), comparable differences can be
briefly mentioned. While Santiago fires off apparently inexhaustible
salvoes of bulerias, San Miguel seems to lean towards the more austere
bulerias por solea (or ‘pa’ escuchar). In Santiago,
too, the bulerias, it seems, have even replaced those two ancient
pillars of Gypsy weddings, the sung romances (or corridos) and the
alboreas.
Of course it would be a mistake to seek explanations for all artistic
developments, but when it comes to the distinctions between the
cante from these two barrios, one does not have to look very far.
San Miguel remained hemmed in by urban perspectives – those
of the forge and the butcher’s trade – which were probably
as confined and confining as those of Triana. But Santiago enjoyed
very different prospects and took full advantage of them. At some
point in the 19th century, quite possibly earlier, great landowners
of the Jerez area began year after year to hire work teams of Gypsies,
the ‘gañanias’, organised around families or
even a street. These were run by trusted Gypsy foremen, the ‘manijeros’,
and would work on the great estates for long periods. This meant
months of hard work rewarded by meagre pay and Spartan living conditions
in the great buildings on the cortijo, but such a life was two steps
above the precariousness and frequent near-starvation of urban life.
In the evening and in the bad weather, the work teams would fall
back on cante, without guitars but with a little baile thrown in
at times; and such sharing of communal values continued in the barrio
itself, thanks to its particular habitat. Such cante was restricted
to the siguiriyas, soleares, and bulerias, with a few occasional
tonas: these are the songs the Gypsies sang between themselves.
In the evening and in
the bad weather, the work teams would fall back on cante
Mechanisation brought this to an end during the 1960’s, but by then the Santiago Gypsies had undergone a change. They had been left free to cultivate their own –‘lo suyo’– and had become largely integrated in local society. It would even seem that no memories survive among them of persecutions suffered in earlier periods.
[This article originally appeared in the magazine Flamenco International. This last paragraph and the section on sources were brought up to date in November 2007]
Pierre Lefranc
[Sources : the information summarised above derives from work that I have in progress and from : my book Le Cante Jondo/ El Cante Jondo […] (Nice and Seville, 1998, 2000, 2001) ; Ladero Quesada, Andalucía a fines de la Edad Media (Cádiz, 1999) ; Pasqualino, Dire le Chant […] (Paris, 1998) ; the memories of La Piriñaca and of Borrico as published by Ortiz Nuevo (1977, 1984) ; Álvarez Caballero, Gitanos, Payos, y Flamencos, […], Madrid, 1988 ; de La Plata in Historia del Flamenco, i.185-95 ; the relevant videos in Rito y Geografía […] ; and the section on Jerez in Un Voyage andalou, mentioned in my list of films. On Mojama, see Ramón Soler Díaz in Candil, 127 (2000), to whom I am also indebted for some details not yet in print. On the gañanías, see Estela Zatania, Flamencos de Gañanía […], Sevilla, 2007.]
Pierre
Lefrancwas Professor of English Literature at several universities in France, North America and Africa. His interest in flamenco began in 1955 and approximately two hours of recordings made by him between 1961 and 1964 are included in the Tartessos « Historia del Flamenco ». He is the author of the book El Cante Jondo published in French (Facultad de Letras de Niza, 1988) and Spanish (Universidad de Sevilla, 2000, 2001).
