Un cuento flamenco en navidad. A FLAMENCO NATIVITY STORY

Page 1

Fernando Barros & Company

Present:

UN CUENTO FLAMENCO EN NAVIDAD

Like all traditional fairy tales, we begin with, “once upon a time in a land far away...� Ours is the story, a cuento, of an eleven-year-old gypsy girl, Gitanana, who has been recently orphaned. She is now responsible not only for herself but also for the care of her younger brother and sister. They are often cold and hungry, sleeping where the animals lay, seeking warmth as autumn has just turned to winter. This is the time of year when she sees fires blazing on the hearths of people who have homes and family. Her teeth chatter in the darkening conditions. She is afraid of the noises of the night but must hide her fears out of and concern for her siblings. Gitanana remembers that with the seasonal change there will be celebrations that they will only know from the past. One night, following a discouraging day of yet again begging for food, she tucks her hands beneath her chin and tries to fall asleep. The sound of the deep breaths of her brother and sister, to whom she had sung an ancient lullaby,


are a small comfort. The animals in the field, softly braying to each other, reassure her. The moon is in hiding, the stars only hint at warmth. She is deeply alone. Gitanana remembers that this is the time of the solstice, the longest night of the year around which cultures took solace in the light of candles, stories, and songs. She recalls times of simple gifts and special foods. And in her mind’s eye appear briefly the kind faces of other people who had come to share with her family. There were stories about Cordova, not far from her village, where three cultures – the Arabs, the Sephardim and the indigenous Spanish – lived in peace with each other many centuries ago. Her memory of the Mercado is alive with enticing smells from baskets brimming with spices, the cacophony of the languages like music and the brilliant woven clothing wafting in the summer breezes. Gitanana feels sadness that her brother and sister would never know the comfort of what she could barely remember herself. As she falls asleep, she decides to ask ancient messengers, the three kings, to bring her siblings a gift for the holiday. She knows that in another story they had brought gold, frankincense and myrrh, impossible and impractical objects. She remembers that they had traveled from distant lands, dressed in their unique robes and crowns. She pictures the camels traversing the countries, slapping the desert sands with their oval feet. At her last awake moment before falling into the serenity of sleep, she decides to ask for something that has never been given before, something o which she could build


a life for her brother, her sister and herself. Her soft dream, (sueno) unfolds: one king brings the gift of rhythm (from Africa); one brings the gift of melody (from India); one brings the gift of harmony (from Spain). Hidden in these gifts are the foundations of a new music: songs that tell stories and frame poetry; rhythmical feet pounding the ground as wrists snap the air; guitars alive with plucked and quivering strings, linking the song and the dance. She turns to each king as he offers his gift. The towering African, dressed in a magnificent patterned robe, demonstrates rhythm and shows her how to count the beats of what will become the tango and fandango. His steps are exact and exuberant; his fingers snap as he turns his hands, which seem to speak their own language. The delicate features of the Asian whose eyes spark or shy away with each line of verse reveal the cultural richness of life in the village as people go about their day to day activities: birth and new beginnings; childhood trust and exuberance; a young person’s observations and entrance into responsibilities; an adult’s guidance of the young and care of the elders; and the elder’s watchful eye on the traditions. And, finally: the bittersweet reality of death. As this king demonstrates his gift, the melodies seep and soar and weep. Lastly, and as a surprise, the king from her own country of Spain, begins to sing, accompanied by the oud and guitar players on instruments that weave sweet harmonies between the melodies of the Asian and the rhythms of the African. The guitarist carefully follows the rise and fall of the


voice, his fingers running up and down the fingerboard with periodic raps against the body of the guitar. The oud player cradles its melon shape against his body, evoking deep tones from its interior. She slowly wakes to a reverie of understanding that she has been given the gift of a new music. It will be identified with her country of Spain. It will provide her brother and sister a future. It will bring Gitanana recognition and purpose. It will hold in its origins the promise of peace between cultures. It will reach across the world: FLAMENCO. Original story copyright: Melissa Moore 2015 Santa Fe,NM PURPOSE of this CONCERT: It is a time of JOY and ENTERTAINMENT It is a time to MEET with FRIENDS and FAMILY It is a time of the WINTER SOLSTICE, EVOKING the MOMENT when the darkest night is over and LIGHT returns.

CONTEXT This concert provides an approach to link today’s flamenco with the music that precedes it in time, recovering old songs, some of Sephardic origin; others tell us about the history of Andalusian times.

We will revive the letters of poets of the time, looking for

connections, influences and evolution of thought as cultures emerged. As musicians, we desire to reveal the poems that


inspired ours ancestors, perpetuated in their manuscripts that have survived until today.

We will present lullabies, love songs, and poems from the

Kingdom of Granada, along with flamenco songs that made reference to the Sephardic, Muslim and Christian heritages. We will take a musical journey that delves into the holidays that the winter solstice evokes. Dances will be evocative and simple. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

CANCIONES DE CUNA DE ORIGEN SEFARDÍ. NANAS FLAMENCAS. DE AMOR Y DE EXALTACION A LA LUNA. BOLERO FLAMENCO. PETENERA SEFARDI Y FLAMENCA. TASIN. CAMPANILLEROS. TANGOS, YA VIENEN LOS REYES MAGOS. MALAGUEÑA Y RONDEÑA. VILLANCICO FLAMENCO, POR EL CINCO DE ENERO. TARARA ANDALUSI

SONG TEXTS:

• Canción sefardí en la lengua Ladina. Durme, durme, querido hijico / Sleep, sleep beloved son
 durme sin ansia y dolor / sleep with no fretting
 Cerra tus chicos ojicos / close your tiny eyes


durme, durme con savor. / sleep, sleep restfully.
 Cerra tus lindos ojicos / Close your beautiful eyes
 durme, durme con savor. / sleep, sleep restfully.
 
 De la cuna salirás / Out of the crib
 a la escola tu entrarás / to enter school
 y alli mi querido hijico / and there, my beloved son
 a meldar te ambezarás. / you'll begin to read. 
 De la escola salirás / Out of school 
 a las pachas te irás / to go to the pashas
 a y tu mi querido hijico / and you my beloved son
 al empiego entrarás. / to work you'll go. Durme duerme - Canción sefardí Durme durme - canción sefardí antigua en Ladino - Judeo español, español judío. 
 Durme durme, mi alma donzella
 Durme durme, sin ansia y dolor.
 
 Que tu 'sclavo que tanto desea
 ver tu suenyo con grande amor.
 
 Hay dos anyos que sufre mi alma
 por ti joya, mi linda dama.


• Canción sefardí

Alta, alta es la luna cuando empeza a esclarecer.
 Hija hermosa y sin ventura
 nunca llegue a nacer.
 
 Mis ojos se me hincheron
 de tanto mirar la mar.
 Vaporicos van y vienen
 letra para mi no hay.
 
 Mi querido es hermoso
 dos taras tiene con él.
 La una que arroja dados
 la otra que echa šeš beš.
 
 Mi querido es alto y vano
 y una vara de espander.
 Mi madre hizo colada
 lo metió a detener
 High, high is the moon
 when dawn is breaking.
 A beautiful, hapless girl
 should never have been born.
 My eyes have swelled up
 from gazing so much at the sea.
 Steamboats come and go


there is no letter for me.
 
 My beloved is handsome
 he has two weaknesses:
 One is that he shoots craps
 the other that he plays backgammon.
 My beloved is tall and vain
 just like a clothes line pole.
 My mother hung up her laundry
 and let him hold the line . • IBN YUDI Desde que su voz oí Paz y juicio perdí Y su dulce cantinela Me dejó tan solo pena Y ansiedad en pos de sí Jamás a verla llegué, Y en ella pensando vivo De su voz me enamoré Y mi corazón cautivo Por su cantar le dejé.

• HAFSA BINT AL HAYY AL RAKUNYYA Preguntad al relámpago tremolante Cuando la noche está tranquila Si me ha hecho recordar mis amantes de media noche Pues ha vuelto a hacer palpitar mi corazón,


Y ha llenado mis párpados de la lluvia que inunda mis mejillas.

• ROMANCE DE LA PÉRDIDA DE ALHAMA

Paseábase el rey moro
 por la ciudad de Granada
 desde la puerta de Elvira
 hasta la de Vivarrambla.
 Cartas le fueron venidas
 que Alhama era ganada.
 Las cartas echó en el fuego
 y al mensajero matara,
 Descabalga de una mula,
 y en un caballo cabalga;
 por el Zacatín arriba
 subido se había al Alhambra. 
 Como en el Alhambra estuvo,
 al mismo punto mandaba
 que se toquen sus trompetas,
 sus añafiles de plata.
 Y que las cajas de guerra
 apriesa toquen el arma,
 porque lo oigan sus moros,
 los de la vega y Granada.
 Los moros que el son oyeron
 que al sangriento Marte llama,


uno a uno y dos a dos
 juntado se ha gran batalla.
 Allí habló un moro viejo,
 de esta manera hablara:
 ¿Para qué nos llamas, rey,
 para qué es esta llamada?
 —Habéis de saber, amigos,
 una nueva desdichada:
 que cristianos de braveza
 ya nos han ganado Alhama.
 Allí habló un alfaquí
 de barba crecida y cana:
 —Bien se te emplea, buen rey,
 buen rey, bien se te empleara.
 Mataste los Bencerrajes,
 que eran la flor de Granada,
 cogiste los tornadizos
 de Córdoba la nombrada.
 Por eso mereces, rey,
 una pena muy doblada:
 que te pierdas tú y el reino,
 y aquí se pierda Granada.

LA TARARA.-


La Tarara, sí; 
 la tarara, no; 
 la Tarara, niña, 
 que la he visto yo. 
 
 Lleva la Tarara 
 un vestido verde 
 lleno de volantes 
 y de cascabeles. 
 
 La Tarara, sí; 
 la tarara, no; 
 la Tarara, niña, 
 que la he visto yo. 
 
 Luce mi Tarara 
 su cola de seda 
 sobre las retamas 
 y la hierbabuena. 
 
 Ay, Tarara loca. 
 Mueve, la cintura 
 para los muchachos 
 de las aceitunas.


ARTISTS: • FERNANDO BARROS: composer and singer • CARLOS LOMAS: oud and flamenco guitar • CHUSCALES: flamenco guitar • MINA FAJARDO and CHIARA MEADOW BRANDI: dance • PETE AMAHL: rhythm and percussion • MELISSA MOORE: story author and singer

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

CONTACT: Melissa at

(50 Website studyflamenco.com que es el flamenco.com http://www.internationalfolkart.org

facebook.com/barroslirola

Museum of International Folk Art

Santa Fe, New Mexico

13 December 2015



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