Flamenco History
When you think about Spain, your mind most likely conjures images of men and women in flamenco attire: bailadoras (dancers) decked in body-hugging dresses that blossom into a cascade of ruffles at the bottom, and men (bailadores) in slightly more restrained outfits comprised of dark pants, fabric belts, and loose-fitting shirts. As you imagine these outfits, you’re probably listening to slow claps (palmas) and the clicking of castanets, setting a beat that will soon be flooded by a stirring guitar, and the voice of a Gypsy singing about longing and heartbreak, or profound happiness.
Although it is now considered the quintessential Spanish art form—declared one of the Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO in 2010—flamenco rose as a form of expression for the Romani people who had been persecuted by Christians since their arrival in the Iberian Peninsula.
For more than three centuries, the Spanish attempted to remove the Romani, since they were faithful to the cultural traditions they had brought with them. Many perished under decrees imposed by the monarchy, including the 18th century’s Gran Redada, which had the purpose of extinguishing them. You only need to read Miguel de Cervantes’ The Little Gipsy Girl to understand how the Romani were seen.
Although there is no evidence of when exactly flamenco started, historical records mention how gypsies would often sing, which makes researchers believe the singing (cante) is the egg from which dance (baile) and guitar (guitarra) hatched. Flamenco singers sang to themselves, trying to make sense of the unwelcoming world around them—"cantando la pena se olvida” (singing makes sorrow go away)—and when this was highlighted by the emotions of a guitar and the power conveyed with dance moves, the art form slowly popularized throughout the country, aided greatly by the Romani people’s nomadic nature.
In the 19th century, as flamenco became more popular (New York City’s first flamenco performance occurred in the 1840s), it also became the center of debate between various political factions in Spain. Nationalists, aided by the Catholic Church, deemed it too foreign an art form to convey Spanish identity, while progressives believed flamenco and bullfighting were backwards practices, keeping Spain from moving forward. Despite the demonization of the art form across history, flamenco has become a symbol of the Romani people’s resilience, not to mention proof that the beat of castanets is nothing more but the heartbeat of a people who survived and kept creating beauty.
Under Francisco Franco’s dictatorship, flamenco went from being appropriated as a symbol of nationalism to becoming a form of protest once radical poets and writers realized the power contained in the form. Can you think of other musical styles and art forms that have achieved something similar? American jazz, with which flamenco shares many traits, comes to mind.
Since the 1970s and all the way to today, movements led by young artists have shown that flamenco isn’t just your grandparents’ music. Artists like Paco de Lucia and Camarón de la Isla (referenced by Rosalia in “Con altura”) began fusing flamenco with other genres like rock, bossa nova, and Arabic music. Pata Negra, a band that infuses flamenco with blues, similarly reinvigorates the tradition.
Pinning down what flamenco is today would be futile, given that the art form has branched out to make room for artists who cherish the flamenco of yore (Rosario Flores, Estrella Morente, Paco de Lucía) and those who push the form into the future through experimentation (Rosalía, La Mala Rodríguez, or MAKA). Flamenco is a spring that will always feed the thirsty— ”Como el agua” (like water) as sung by Camarón back in 1981—an unstoppable force of nature that always makes its way to where its most needed.