Duende

        There is so much to write about Granada that I’m not sure where to begin.  So, I guess I will just cover it piece by piece, not necessarily chronologically. 

I have been here about three weeks now, although it feels like an eternity and all my experiences tend to run together.  I fall more and more in love with this city every time I turn a new corner, seeing as I usually end up in a beautiful plaza, or looking out on an amazing and unexpected view, or in at a fantastic restaurant. 

My favorite part of the city would have to be the Albayzín and Sacromonte neighborhoods.  The main city center lies between two hill on one side the Alhambra rises up and oversees the day-to-day bustle, and on the other the Albayzín and the Sacromonte climb up the hills towards the caves with staggering white houses and rustic winding streets.  From just about every point in this neighborhood there is a breathtaking view of the Alhambra and the city below, especially after dark when everything is warmly lit.  This is the old Moorish quarter so its streets are thick with teterias (tea houses), hookah bars, Arabic shops, amazing restaurants, and now-a-days many hippies and gitanos (gypsies).  

If one continues up towards the caves one can find the gypsy-run tablaos (flamenco clubs) that are set into the hillside.  The throaty, lamenting flamenco singers and trilling guitar echo out of the caves and many tourists venture towards the sound.  These “caves” are white plastered little buildings that are set into the hills natural openings.  Despite the tourism factor, the dancers are nonetheless passionate and authentic in their performance.  My friends and I hiked up the Sacromonte to a club called “La Rocio” to see our first show.  This cave had countless hand-made copper pots hanging from the ceilings (for acoustics we’re guessing) and chairs were lined up along the narrow room.  We were handed glasses of Sangria and rushed to our seats.  I was lucky enough to see a flamenco performance in high school when we took a trip to Spain and was blown away then, somehow flamenco is even more incredible than I remember.  It’s incredibly passionate, enthralling, and genuine.  The dancers follow no structure but rather move in reaction to the music (which is equally as passionate) and are really in their own artistic experience, the audience is just lucky to be looking on.  They stomp wildly, throwing their hands in the air and swinging their hair – the next second they switch gears and move slowly, gracefully while twisting their hands and waists, then delve into intricate and rapid footwork – all in accordance with the melody. All the while their fellow dancers and musicians cheer and prompt them while clapping and stomping to create a rhythm.

         In class we read a piece by Lorca, that I loved, on the idea of duende, which is a very integral component of the flamenco world and is extremely visible at these performances.  Duende is very hard to explain, or comprehend, but is essentially an artistic force.  It is not a matter of skill or grace, but rather duende can be messy and unpolished – it is pure and raw expression.  Lorca explains that it is not the same kind of inspiration as that provided by a muse or an angel – those influences come from outside of oneself, while duende comes from within.  This whole concept seems extremely relevant to me as an outsider gawking at the flamenco performance, and in wonder of this entire Andalusian spirit.

         Anyways, Granada’s flamenco scene speaks to the character of the Sacromonte and the Albayzín neighborhoods in which the tablaos take place – imperfect, picturesque, genuine, and incredibly full of life.  With its breathtaking miradores (viewpoints) and its mix of subcultures, these neighborhoods are, in my opinion, Granada at its best.