Flamenco: Gypsy Dance and Music from Andalusia (Amadeus)

Not overly impressed by the illustrations but after searching for a long time at least it did tell the story.It was a present so I hope it's enjoyed.

Go to many Spanish cities nowadays and you will have access to a wealth of opportunities to see, learn and generally experience flamenco.The word "flamenco" is a coverall for a whole plethora of musical modes, cultural expressions and political controversy, which Claus Schreiner and his various contributors here try to unravel. They trace the origins of flamenco to the Spanish gitanos - gypsies - and speculate that the name derived from the Fleming soldiers once common in Spain. There is an explanation of the different flamenco styles, brief pen portraits of some of the leading exponents of the art, discussion of the way in which flamenco has evolved, and some fairly technical analysis of the art of the flamenco guitarist.One of the revelations I found particularly interesting was that the "duende" that is said to inspire the best flamenco translates not as an ethereal "spirit" or a possibly mischievous "imp", as I have previously seen it explained, but as a rather more sinister "demon".It is worth noting, of course, that at the time of the book's original publication only a decade had passed since the death of El Caudillo, and that a further year would pass before Spain's entry into the EEC, or EU as now is. A quarter of a century of democracy and economic integration since, Spain is a rather different place, even rich enough once more to be a leading victim of the late noughties' recession. Schreiner's introduction needs therefore to be seen possibly as a relic of the past, with its comments about most Spaniards looking down on flamenco, amongst others. Go to any tourist tablao and you'll find plenty of Spaniards in there.In fact, much of the book demands a critical eye, for all its virtues. This is possibly most true in the contributors' sniffy attitude towards the way flamenco has developed, most particularly in the way it has been adapted for and adopted by non-gitanos. It is as if they want to preserve the whole thing in aspic, like a musical equivalent of Latin. But just as Latin is now heard as a developing language through Spanish, Italian, Romanian and even French, so too flamenco is heard in many changed and changing forms.A critical aspect of flamenco is that, as a music which was once that of outcasts, it has attracted rebellious and creative people who have used it as an influence. A similar process occurred when gospel became soul, and later R'n'B. Whilst we can acknowledge and even celebrate the contribution of gospel, it doesn't mean we have to spend our weekends down the local Baptist chapel to pay homage.The tone of some of the writing here, though, is akin to the bigbandsmen spitting on the "dirty boppers"; Ricky Skaggs dismissing Emmylou Harris's later music because "It's not country", or Bob Dylan's "Judas" moment. If some people had their way, jazz would still be played by blokes in straw boaters, country would still sound like the Carter Family, and flamenco would be frozen in some mythical mid-19th Century "golden age".The fact is that, like all musical insurgencies, flamenco held within it the seeds of its own establishment, which this book seems to represent, but it has also continued to evolve as voice and rhythm sticks were joined by guitar, dance and palillos (castanets). In parallel the music has been lovingly and respectfully adopted as an influence by the likes of Miles Davis, John Coltrane and John McLaughlin, who all get a mention here, and Spanish artists such as Ojos De Brujo and Chano Dominguez (for a real flamenco/jazz fusion buzz, check out Dominguez's 1993-2003 compilation).Of course, there's no smoke without fire, and while in Seville recently I attended three flamenco shows, each in its own way slightly unsatisfactory: The first two were so because much of the audience seemed to be there solely to take photographs, although they were otherwise respectful of the event; the third, at a place called La Carbonería, was unsatisfactory because many in the audience seemed interested primarily in talking to each other, and had to be quieted by the bailaora, a powerful looking woman who proved Madeleine Claus's point that good flamenco dancers don't need to be svelte.The parallel I'd draw from personal experience is the time I witnessed some Herbert take a flash photograph at the RSC during the tragic finale of Romeo and Juliet. The moment was lost, just as it would have been had the same happened at Sadler's Wells. But the other point is that, whilst I have seen many excellent productions of Romeo and Juliet, none has been a copy of the other. The directors have interpreted the play in their own ways, not something that would happen with flamenco if Schreiner and his crew get their way.Contributor Christof Jung also seems to have some romanticised idea of the role of poverty in flamenco. Frankly, if flamenco was all we had to lose in order to eradicate poverty then I'd consider it a bargain. That there is no such deal going on is pretty self-evident. But at times Schreiner and gang seem to be exemplars of what John Gill criticises in his work, Andalucía: extranjeros treating the natives of the province as a "piece of rough" to be "cruised" and used, then left behind as they return to the Hotel Real.Which brings me to the writing itself, and thereby to the proof-reading.Throughout the book the style is extremely wooden and formal. I'm pretty sure that is partly the fault of the translator, but whatever, it makes for pretty dry reading, Bernhard-Friedrich Schulze's essay in particular reads like a high school engineering project, with no passion for the subject evident, and a subsequent essay on castanets reads as if written by actuaries. The exception to this is in the story of La Joselito, which reads like a soap opera.There is an overuse of the adjective "great" throughout: it seems everyone mentioned is "great", at times (may I suggest alternatives such as celebrated, accomplished, distinguished?). And whilst the translations of lyrics are useful, particularly in bringing out the abject misery of some, sometimes a lot of liberties are taken in order to get the English version to rhyme.The proof-reading, though generally good, falls over on a few occasions, as where we are informed that the old name for Cádiz was "Gardes" (actually "Gades", or "Gadir"), that Jose Sanchez Bernal lived on Calle Jimenez (actually Ximénez) de Enciso in Seville, and in the glossary "castañuelas" is rendered "cantañuelas".Finally, there appears to be a tendency towards confirmation bias, in that the testimony of a single correspondent is often used to confirm the authors' preconceptions, as where one contributor takes the marriage of a bailaora to a matador (both, naturally, "great") as proof of the inextricable link between flamenco and the corrida. One night in a bar off the Alameda de Hercules, Seville, I overheard, or rather was caught in the crossfire of, a discussion between a man and a woman on flamenco. My Spanish is pretty basic, but I gathered that the woman was or had been a bailaora herself, and didn't consider fandango to be flamenco. I don't take that to be proof one way or the other, whoever she was.But let's not get carried away. In the words of Drive-By Truckers' Mike CooleyAnd I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horsecause I got thrown off of onewhen I was young and I ain't no cowboyso I ain't going where I don't belong.It's true that this book could have been better, but it's also true that it stands as one of the few books I have come across in English that gives anywhere near a detailed account of flamenco, going way beyond anything in Lonely Planet, for example. It provides a very useful vocabulary which enables you to differentiate commonplace foot stamping and the zapateado of flamenco. It helps you know your pito from your palma. And furthermore it is generally correct in my regrettably limited experience that the better flamenco venues are either also purveyors of alcohol (Upsetter in Granada) or hard to find (La Carbonería is both).