-Granpa, are you going to go to the Fair of Seville?

-Not really. I don’t use to go to those popular events with tens of thousands of people in one street, where it’s impossible to talk. Besides, with this government’s meager pension, there’s nothing left for fairs.

-But you once told me that, back in your days, there were booths where renowned flamenco artists would stop by…

-Yes, in the 1950s and 1960s, indeed. Like in a booth called El Traga, for example, where many famous cantaores, guitarists, bailaores and bailaoras would stop by, such as El Perrate, Ansonini del Puerto, Eduardo el de la Malena, Mairena, Fernanda and Bernarda… Yet, they would perform in parties, and at times when there were not many people around. These were the days when the fair was held in the Prado grounds, before they moved it to Los Remedios in 1973. After that, it became overcrowded and the art was lost.

-Rich people’s parties, right, grandpa?

-Oh yes. Each señorito in Seville had their own booth, or was a member of one, and they would throw parties for friends and customers. Some artists would make a living for the whole year, performing in such parties. I heard of one señorito who gave one million pesetas to Marchena, and he only sang a few fandangos, although he sang them superbly! One night, a famous bullfighter, Belmonte, took Niña de los Peines and Pepe Pinto in a horse-drawn carriage to his booth. La Niña sang some bulerías which, incidentally, were recorded by Beni de Cádiz in a video, but that reel is nowhere to be found. Amós, brother of Beni, assured me that the reel was at his home, but it hasn’t been found to this day. Pastora sang and danced splendidly that night, even as her health was already faltering.

-Isn’t there any flamenco these days at the fair of Seville?

-Sure there is, but there’s too many people, so it gets too noisy. Also, there are no generous señoritos like in the old days. Well, there are a few, like Mr. Badía of the ham company, and a couple of others. Have you ever been to his house in Rocío? He always brings artists and throws some amazing parties. I’ve seen Herminia Borja sing and dance better than Lola Flores, and I’ve also watched performances by Cancanilla de Marbella, Mari Peña, Chiquetete…

–Pericón de Cádiz wrote in his memories how, one night, Tomás Pavón was performing in one booth, but couldn’t stand the barrel organ, and he felt terribly about it. Particularly because he needed the money, of course. 

–Manuel Torres, too. It was hard to make a living performing in parties, because some señoritos could be annoying. Can you imagine Manuel in a party, listening to the conversations of ladies and madams?

-Stop being sexist, grandpa, or you may get in trouble.

-For telling the truth? Nowadays, there are plenty of women who know about flamenco, but seventy years ago, it was hard to find a woman who had any clue about it. Tomás avoided parties where women would be present, if he could. Whenever someone wanted to hire him, his two questions were: who was paying for the party, and whether women would be present.

-Sexist, that Tomás, no? 

-For sure, Manolito, but that’s how things were in those days, I’m not making this up.

-So, you’re not going to the Fair this year…

-No, I won’t. The Fair can come to me.

-Do you know any lyrics about the Fair of Seville?

-Of course, there are lots. This one used to be sang by the father of Manolo Caracol (Caracol el del Bulto), por bulerías:

A la Feria no voy más,
porque canta La Moreno,
saetas de madrugá.

-La Moreno sang saetas in the early mornings?

-Yes, she wasn’t quite right in the head and sang saetas at the Fair.

-I love you grandpa.

-Sure.

Translated by P. Young