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In the forge at Cabra Flamencology
Her BBC4 TV documentary Flamenco: Gypsy Soul was shown in August to great acclaim. Elizabeth Kinder tells the story of her trip to find the music.
T
he text read “Take the first exit for Cabra, and wait by the sign for the hospital.” We shot off the almost empty motorway and came to a halt on a grassy
verge. The day’s heat sizzled off the bon- net and the almost melting tarmac: the letters forming the word ‘hospital’ danc- ing above us as bright sunlight flashed off the sign.
We waited for our contact to show, separately concentrating on what we’d each need to do as the afternoon unfold- ed. No cars passed. The minutes ticked by, five, six, seven; an old green Citroen came into view swallowing up the narrow road ahead. It slowed and pulled up. I got out of our car and into the back. As we pulled away, the BBC team following in convoy, my old friend Sebastian turned to me from the front seat. “They’re all waiting at the
forge and into their second bottle of whisky.” Enrique in the passenger seat, smiled. “Flamenco is not just music. It’s a way of life.”
A way of life closely guarded amongst the Gitano communities in Andalucía. Whilst many from the flamenco Gypsy dynasties perform their art in public for the right price, they do not let strangers into their private parties – the flamenco they play for themselves, the stuff of life that can’t be realised within the confines of the concert hall, the music that’s sprung from their centuries-old tradition and working practices and collective experi- ence of being despised, of marginalisa- tion, dispossession and persecution.
Enrique is a blacksmith, a traditional Gypsy occupation. Being useful, it was one that, historically, the Spanish authori- ties would often turn a blind eye to dur-
ing the draconian persecutions which banned the Gitano communities from practising anything to do with their cul- ture, whether related to work or social activity, clothes or customs – including speaking their own language. It’s not hard to see why Gypsy communities remain wary of outsiders to this day.
Friendly, quiet, modest and self- deprecating, Enrique has only eventually agreed to our visit because of our mutual friend. He, Enrique, owns the forge we’re in. “The relationship between black- smithing and the Gypsies,” he says, “is very strong and in blacksmithing they have always sung flamenco. Camarón de la Isla, one of the greatest, he came out of the forge. His father Luis was a black- smith. After this there was the forge of the Mairena family, Antonio Mairena is another of the greatest.”
Photo: Laura Kaye
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