Dos Artistas
FLAMENCOS!!!!!!
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Flamenco as an art encompasses a combination of cante (singing), baile (dancing), and - as we see above in the representations of the great flamenco guitarists Francisco Sánchez Gómez and María Molina Baeza - toque (music).
In a full flamenco performance the singers help establish the rhythm by clapping their hands, tapping a wooden surface, or striking the floor with a cane (the palo seco). The dancer also produces rhythmic clapping (sometimes aided by castanets) and foot stamps (called flats). There are male flamenco dancers but the usual image is of the tall statuesque bailaora whose vigorous steps and stylized gestures are enhanced by the motions of her long and swirling costume.
Although a flamenco performance may not seem terribly complex compared to modern Broadway choreography, some seemingly simple actions require specialist artists. For instance, the singers can add rhythm by clapping their hands, but there is also the palmero who claps with particularly intricate patterns. The palmero must be knowledgeable of the music in each specific unit of rhythm - the compás - and this must be coordinated with the particular moves and form - the estampa - of the dancer.
The etymology of the word causes some difficulties. You will read that los Flamencos are the natives of Flanders. While this is true, the art itself originated in Andalusia which is the southernmost autonomous region of Spain and which encompasses the provinces of Almería, Cádiz, Córdoba, Granada, Huelva, Jaén, Málaga, and Sevilla. The connection between north Belgium and Southern Spain has been the subject of much, albeit inconclusive, discussion.
But it is also true that the word flamenco is the Spanish word for the bird, the flamingo. Here there is at least some connection with Andalusia and the birds of the family Phoenicopteridae as their habitat includes the southern coastal regions of Spain. In fact, the Fuente de Piedra lagoon in the province of Málaga boasts the largest population of the flamingoes in Europe and is a popular tourist attraction. Possibly the red color of the dancers' costumes is reminiscent of the color of the plumages of the brighter colored birds.
Whatever the origin of the word, the flamenco performance arose from the Romani people of Spain. Originally from India, the Romani - commonly referred to as Gypsies but more specifically in Spain they are known as the Gitano1 - immigrated into Spain beginning in the 9th Century. In Andalusia they met the Moorish Muslim and Sephardic Jewish inhabitants and the cultural borrowings between the groups ultimately produced unique songs, dance, and music. Flamenco singing and dancing was performed at family gatherings, parties, and weddings.
Footnote
As the word "Gypsy" is derived from "Egypt" and "Egyptian", so "Gitano" is derived from "Egipto" and "Egiptano" which is the Spanish for "Egypt" and "Egyptian". The idea that the "Gypsies" are from Egypt got around although as we said the Romani originated in India.
Because Spanish differentiates between male and female in its grammatical endings, the feminine form is Gitana. The traditional language of the Gitanos is called Caló, which is a Romance language but quite distinct from Spanish or Portugese.
Because "Gypsy" and "to gyp" - that is, to cheat someone - are etymologically related (gyp < Gypsy < Egyptian as etymologist write it), nowadays the word "Gypsy" is usually considered derogatory, and the use of "Romani" or "Roma" is preferred. "Gitano", though, still seems to be acceptable.
Then there is the guitar. Ironically, in the early years the guitar was not considered that important in a flamenco performance and it wasn't until the mid-19th Century that the guitar really became part of the act.
Why did it take (literally) centuries for the guitar to produce the sound that now virtually defines flamenco? Well, for one thing, guitars, then as now, were expensive and the early flamenco performers didn't always have a lot of cash on hand. Also if you were a traveling performer, a guitar was just one more piece of baggage to weigh you down. A capella singing required little more than the clothes on your back.
But in Spain - and throughout the world - the mid-19th Century saw the rise of the cities and with the cities came cafes and restaurants. The owners of the new establishments found that they could pull in more customers by adding entertainment, and after a while the entertainment became the main attraction. Soon these cafés cantantes were specializing in flamenco singing, dancing, and music.
It was also in the mid-19th century that a cabinet maker named Antonio de Torres Jurado began making guitars as a sideline. He modified the usual design, making his guitars larger and louder. The Torres soon became the Stradivarius of the Guitar2 and was the first instrument to clearly have the modern design. Antonio also began differentiating construction of the guitar when it was intended for solo performances in concerts and recitals - the "classical" guitar - and when it was used for flamenco.
Footnote
There are original Torres guitars still around. To be playable they generally have to be restored and repaired as does a Stradivarius violin. Although a Torres guitar doesn't command the prices of a Strad, they are by no means cheap and a recent selling price for a Torres was $275,000.
The flamenco guitar, then, is not quite the same as a classical guitar. Traditionally the most obvious difference was that the tuning keys on a flamenco instrument were friction pegs like on the violin while the classical guitar has geared tuners. It's hard to explain why flamenco players preferred the simpler designs as anyone who has tuned an instrument with friction pegs knows, the keys can be a bit touchy. They can slip, wear down, and are more difficult to fine tune to the right pitch. But with the pegs the luthier doesn't need to have the machined metal gears around, friction pegs are lighter - producing a better balanced instrument - and perhaps more importantly, they are cheaper. Although today many flamenco guitars are built with geared keys, there are luthiers who still make the instruments with the traditional pegs.
The flamenco guitar generally has a shallower body than the classical guitar, and you also read that the woods used to make the top are different although the various sources are not completely consistent on what part uses what and where. You'll read the tops are made of cypress and in other places you learn that they are of made of spruce like the classical guitar. But it is agreed that flamenco guitars use thinner panels that produce a lighter instrument (some flamenco guitars weigh less than two pounds). The flamenco guitar produces a brighter sound while the classical guitar brings out more mellow tones.
Because rapid fire play is de rigueur on a flamenco guitar, the action - that is, the distance between the strings and the frets - is set low. The low action does make the instrument easier to play but also often produces a string contra fret buzz. Such extraneous noise is often deplored by the classical players who have no problem with "finger squeak" on the lower strings.3 But a bit of a buzz is considered acceptable - and sometimes even desirable and necessary - for the true flamenco sound.
Footnote
One way out of the squeaking noise - or at least to reduce it - is to go to flat wound strings. Bass strings on a guitar are made by wrapping thin metal wire around a core of nylon. Because the direction of the wrapping is perpendicular to the length of the neck, sliding the fingers along the string produces a squeak. However, if the wrapping wire is not round but flat, the squeaking is much less. Treble strings - G, B, and E - are just nylon and so don't squeak.
Although flat wound strings reduce the squeak, most guitarists till use the round wounds. The usual opinion is round wire produces a brighter tone and the strings are also cheaper.
Before synthetic materials were available, the bass strings were made from silk cores with the wire wrapping and the treble strings were made of stretched and twisted (ugh) animal intestines. Although called catgut strings, the animal sources were usually sheep or cows. Gut strings are still available and some guitarists prefer them to nylon, saying they have a more mellow tone.
The action is also kept low on a flamenco guitar by having the neck relief virtually nil. Neck relief is the amount of concave curvature in the neck that helps keep the strings above the frets. Admittedly the amount of bend is most unnoticeable and the extra height of the strings is no more than the thickness of a piece of thin cardboard. But if there is too much relief or the neck angle is set too high the guitar can be - as Doc Watson once put it - "as hard to fret as a barbed wire fence."
Finally the action can be lowered even more by using a capo. A capo is a bar that is placed across the neck behind a fret so it holds down all the strings at once. A capo pushes the strings a bit closer to the fingerboard than if they were just strung through the nut which is the grooved bar that separates the head from the neck. Use of a capo to lower the action is pretty common for flamenco guitarists although classical guitarists tend to indignantly eschew the device.
Normally a capo is used to allow the player to change the key of a tune without altering the left hand fingerings (Doc called his capo "the cheater"). So a flamenco player who uses a capo will also lower the pitch of the strings. Of course, modern capos are made so that the capo is padded where it touches the back of the neck to avoid scratching the finish. However, early capos looked like a great way to gouge the guitar.
You will read that Carlos Montoya was the first major flamenco guitarist to embark on a solo and concert career rather than just providing music for the dancers. Well, this is true in some sense. With the advent of the Second World War, Carlos immigrated to the United States and performed exclusively as a solo artist. He certainly became the most famous flamenco player to los norteamericanos who considered Carlos the épitomé of the art.
On the other hand we have to mention - a surprise to his American fans - that Carlos is not generally held as one of the foremost players by scholars of the art. One major guitar reference work - which covers the entire history of the instrument from ancient to modern times - devotes an entire chapter to the flamenco guitar but only has a sentence or two about Carlos and then written in a rather dismissive manner.
It may be tempting to ascribe the disdain that critics expressed toward Carlos to sour grapes.4 After all he was the most successful guitarrista flamenco in North America and he played to sold out auditoria and nothing arouses indignation and criticism more than fame and success. But we must admit Carlos did tend to produce a rough sound with heavy rasgueados which was quite unlike the crisp clean playing of some of his contemporaries such as Agustín Castellón Campos, known professionally as Sabicas, or like the playing of his own uncle Ramón.
Footnote
One review of Carlos's performance in the early 1960's shows the rather mixed nature of a critic's reception:
Guitarist Montoya Lacks Dance Assist
by DONALD MINTZ
Contributing Critic
Carlos Montoya. Flamenco guitarist. At Lisner Auditorium. Program: La Macarena, Monterde; Sacromonte, Turing; Excerpts from Zarzuelas by Chueca and Breton; Traditional Flamenco music arranged by Montoya. New works in Flamenco style by Montoya.
And what exactly is Flamenco? The Harvard Dictionary defines it as "the 'gypsy' style of Spanish dance and dance music." Note that "gypsy" is put in quotes.
As far as American audiences are concerned. Carlos Montoya, who played at the Lisner Auditorium last light, is the foremost Flamenco guitarist. Montoya appeared alone, without dancers and without other instrumentalists. But in the definition just quoted, dance comes first and music second. And that, I think was the trouble with the evening.
Montoya plays marvelously - no question about that. But the style of the music is very limited indeed, and one piece sounds very much like another. I was able to hear two thirds of the program, and in that time I think I must have heard one single harmonic progression over a hundred times.
The afficionados [sic] were enthusiastic. Perhaps if one is well acquainted with the style, the music conjures visions of movement that are as real as reality.
But if one is not, one man in a business suit is a poor substitute. Even when that one man is as gifted and dexterous as Carlos Montoya.
