On June 13th-14th, 1922, a small group of people, including Manuel de Falla,
organized the Concurso de Cante Jondo, a large song and dance festival in Plaza de
los Aljibes in the Alhabra fortress, in Granada, Spain. The
Concurso was organized to protect the dance form called flamenco, and persuade
the public to rely on a more traditional version of flamenco called cante jondo.
Cante jondo is the strand of flamenco practiced by the Roma people. Falla and
his group wanted to ‘protect’ it from cante chico, a watered-down strand of
flamenco that incorporated popular songs with Andalucian folklore (another strand
of flamenco named after the Spanish autonomous community of Andalucia) that
was often played in loud city drinking establishments called cafés cantantes. The
organizers of the Concurso believed that if cante chico was allowed to run its
course, the original palos, musical art forms, would wither away.
Many artists were invited from all corners of the world, but they couldn’t
compete in the event. Though the professionals did perform in other areas during
the Concurso, only amateurs were allowed to play in the competition. This was to
let new talent uncover itself, as well as allow more rare forms of flamenco to
present itself to the world.
It worked. Diego “El Tenazas” Bermúdez, a 72-year-old retired flamenco
singer who ended his career 30 years earlier because one of his lungs was punctured
in a knife fight, walked 62 miles from his house in Puente Genil, only to sing a caña,
an ancient song with religious overtones, with an angelically youthful voice.
Another performer, Manolo Ortega, who was a 12-year-old Roma boy from
Seville, who would later become the legendary flamenco singer El Caracol, who was
famous for his lavish lifestyle, performed what was likely his first large performance.
Even music styles that were thought to be extinct were revived in the
Concurso. An elderly blind woman that a member of the inner circle managed to
find days before the event performed a solo liviana, a form of flamenco that was
thought to be gone forever.
Other notable performances included ones from established members of the
flamenco community, like Antonio Chacón and Ramón Montoya. Also, a group of
local women got up onto the stage and danced zambras, which were Roma dances
that were common in Granada, until two hours past midnight.
Even though the event was over, its impacts were just starting to show up.
The Concurso created a ripple effect across Spain, with similar Concursos popping
up in Seville, Huelva, and Madrid. The most notable one was the Concurso de
Córdoba of 1956, in the city of Córdoba. These festivals helped the early spread of
flamenco around Spain.
But this ripple effect actually backfired against the organizers of the
Concurso. “Contrary to its own principles, the competition ended up benefiting
[popular] flamenco. It widened its format, prompted the recording of musical styles
that might have been lost because of their weak commercial pull, and heralded
subsequent flamenco festivals that were attended purely by professionals,” states
José Javier León, a writer and professor, and author of a 2021 book about the
Concurso de Cante Jondo called Burlas y Veras del 22.
León was able to spot even more mistakes in the philosophy of the organizers
of the festival. “Flamenco from its origins was an urban manifestation. Not rural and
secret, as the promoters of the Concurso believed, not a handmade product of any
aficionado, but a complex artistic discipline. They divided the flamenco tree in two,
on one side cante jondo with only positive connotations, and on the other
“flamenco” – derivative, adulterated, and commercialised. This division was
pernicious,” states José Javier León.
Cante jondo was actually more of a hybrid than a purebred art form. Its roots
began in India, and on the path to Southern Spain, it absorbed Hindu, Byzantium,
Jewish, and Moorish influences. This journey spanned 3 continents, from the
riverbanks of India to the seasides of Israel, and from the pillars of the Byzantine
empire to the islands and deserts of Moorish lands.
Other experts believe that the inner circle at the event had been barking up
the wrong tree. “Lorca contributed a huge amount to the flamenco world. But I also
think he, and others in that more intellectual circle, romanticised flamenco too much
in a way that puts the concept of ‘purity’ before the life and needs of the actual
artist,” says Magdalena Mannion, a flamenco dancer who trained at the Amor de
Dios dance school in Madrid.
León offered an insight into why a group of professionals decided that their
art form was in danger. “There is a mantra that has accompanied flamenco since its
birth and that won’t go away. ‘It is in grave danger, it is dying, we have to save it!
Help!’ The Concurso recovered this moribund idea and amplified it,” states José
Javier León.
The Concurso in Granada completely failed to hit its main mark of preserving
the current state of cante jondo. 50 years later, in the 1970’s, flamenco had become
a commercialised music form and was accepting many different views and takes on
it.
Flamenco was revolutionized in the 1970’s by guitarist Paco de Lucía and
singer Camerón de la Isla. They introduced new technologies like keyboards and
electric guitars, bringing flamenco into the modern era.
The success generated by integrating other forms of music resulted in
international recognition. Because of this, flamenco gained the status of an
Intangible Cultural Heritage, given to it by UNESCO in 2010.
Nowadays, flamenco has become more friendly to new additions than ever.
It has been fused with jazz, rock, blues, and ramba, additions that would’ve been
outrageous a century ago.
As a final message, Mannion left some advice meant not just for flamenco
artists, but for all members of the art world. “I feel like the biggest problem with
flamenco are the questions with a yes or no answer. ‘Is it or is it not flamenco? Is it
authentic or is it not?’ We need to shake this off – at least as artists and audiences.
‘Did I like it, did it make me feel something?’ I think that’s a better question,” says
Magdalena Mannion.
Link to Article: https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20220613-flamenco-and-the-1922-
woodstock-of-spain
organized the Concurso de Cante Jondo, a large song and dance festival in Plaza de
los Aljibes in the Alhabra fortress, in Granada, Spain. The
Concurso was organized to protect the dance form called flamenco, and persuade
the public to rely on a more traditional version of flamenco called cante jondo.
Cante jondo is the strand of flamenco practiced by the Roma people. Falla and
his group wanted to ‘protect’ it from cante chico, a watered-down strand of
flamenco that incorporated popular songs with Andalucian folklore (another strand
of flamenco named after the Spanish autonomous community of Andalucia) that
was often played in loud city drinking establishments called cafés cantantes. The
organizers of the Concurso believed that if cante chico was allowed to run its
course, the original palos, musical art forms, would wither away.
Many artists were invited from all corners of the world, but they couldn’t
compete in the event. Though the professionals did perform in other areas during
the Concurso, only amateurs were allowed to play in the competition. This was to
let new talent uncover itself, as well as allow more rare forms of flamenco to
present itself to the world.
It worked. Diego “El Tenazas” Bermúdez, a 72-year-old retired flamenco
singer who ended his career 30 years earlier because one of his lungs was punctured
in a knife fight, walked 62 miles from his house in Puente Genil, only to sing a caña,
an ancient song with religious overtones, with an angelically youthful voice.
Another performer, Manolo Ortega, who was a 12-year-old Roma boy from
Seville, who would later become the legendary flamenco singer El Caracol, who was
famous for his lavish lifestyle, performed what was likely his first large performance.
Even music styles that were thought to be extinct were revived in the
Concurso. An elderly blind woman that a member of the inner circle managed to
find days before the event performed a solo liviana, a form of flamenco that was
thought to be gone forever.
Other notable performances included ones from established members of the
flamenco community, like Antonio Chacón and Ramón Montoya. Also, a group of
local women got up onto the stage and danced zambras, which were Roma dances
that were common in Granada, until two hours past midnight.
Even though the event was over, its impacts were just starting to show up.
The Concurso created a ripple effect across Spain, with similar Concursos popping
up in Seville, Huelva, and Madrid. The most notable one was the Concurso de
Córdoba of 1956, in the city of Córdoba. These festivals helped the early spread of
flamenco around Spain.
But this ripple effect actually backfired against the organizers of the
Concurso. “Contrary to its own principles, the competition ended up benefiting
[popular] flamenco. It widened its format, prompted the recording of musical styles
that might have been lost because of their weak commercial pull, and heralded
subsequent flamenco festivals that were attended purely by professionals,” states
José Javier León, a writer and professor, and author of a 2021 book about the
Concurso de Cante Jondo called Burlas y Veras del 22.
León was able to spot even more mistakes in the philosophy of the organizers
of the festival. “Flamenco from its origins was an urban manifestation. Not rural and
secret, as the promoters of the Concurso believed, not a handmade product of any
aficionado, but a complex artistic discipline. They divided the flamenco tree in two,
on one side cante jondo with only positive connotations, and on the other
“flamenco” – derivative, adulterated, and commercialised. This division was
pernicious,” states José Javier León.
Cante jondo was actually more of a hybrid than a purebred art form. Its roots
began in India, and on the path to Southern Spain, it absorbed Hindu, Byzantium,
Jewish, and Moorish influences. This journey spanned 3 continents, from the
riverbanks of India to the seasides of Israel, and from the pillars of the Byzantine
empire to the islands and deserts of Moorish lands.
Other experts believe that the inner circle at the event had been barking up
the wrong tree. “Lorca contributed a huge amount to the flamenco world. But I also
think he, and others in that more intellectual circle, romanticised flamenco too much
in a way that puts the concept of ‘purity’ before the life and needs of the actual
artist,” says Magdalena Mannion, a flamenco dancer who trained at the Amor de
Dios dance school in Madrid.
León offered an insight into why a group of professionals decided that their
art form was in danger. “There is a mantra that has accompanied flamenco since its
birth and that won’t go away. ‘It is in grave danger, it is dying, we have to save it!
Help!’ The Concurso recovered this moribund idea and amplified it,” states José
Javier León.
The Concurso in Granada completely failed to hit its main mark of preserving
the current state of cante jondo. 50 years later, in the 1970’s, flamenco had become
a commercialised music form and was accepting many different views and takes on
it.
Flamenco was revolutionized in the 1970’s by guitarist Paco de Lucía and
singer Camerón de la Isla. They introduced new technologies like keyboards and
electric guitars, bringing flamenco into the modern era.
The success generated by integrating other forms of music resulted in
international recognition. Because of this, flamenco gained the status of an
Intangible Cultural Heritage, given to it by UNESCO in 2010.
Nowadays, flamenco has become more friendly to new additions than ever.
It has been fused with jazz, rock, blues, and ramba, additions that would’ve been
outrageous a century ago.
As a final message, Mannion left some advice meant not just for flamenco
artists, but for all members of the art world. “I feel like the biggest problem with
flamenco are the questions with a yes or no answer. ‘Is it or is it not flamenco? Is it
authentic or is it not?’ We need to shake this off – at least as artists and audiences.
‘Did I like it, did it make me feel something?’ I think that’s a better question,” says
Magdalena Mannion.
Link to Article: https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20220613-flamenco-and-the-1922-
woodstock-of-spain