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CARAVEL DE
CARAVELES Aluméame All the songs are traditional
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CARAVEL DE
CARAVELES Aluméame All the songs are traditional
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§ Fortunately and in spite of these unfavourable times, one can still talk about Galician folklore in the present tense, as alive and vibrant in the voice of the people. But, for how long? This is the worrying question, because the process of degradation set in motion by the culture industry, among other factors, appears irreversible and no one seems capable of stopping it. Could it be otherwise, however, when the songs of the people are disappearing together with those rural and traditional forms of life which created the culture in the first place. (It shoudn´t be forgotten that, until yesterday, everyone was the son or the grandson of a farmer). But the muleteers got lost in the suburbs and their songs disappeared with them. The earth is farmed with noisy machines and tractors which drown any chance song. And since the people do not sing in order to be listened to, with genuine folklore, professionalism does not suffice. Nothing is left, therefore, apart from memory and nostalgia. This Caravel de Caraveles (Carnation of Carnations) wants to be a living memory. Intending, nonetheless, to recreate those songs (luminous fruits of darkened origin) without losing their popular grace and spontaneity, even when the instrumentation and harmony used amount always to an individual and subjective attitude and interpretation. I think also of those men and women who gather together in choirs and sing and dance, thus rescuing from oblivion so many songs, so much knowledge. Their enthusiasm encourages us all. Humbly, I unite my song to theirs. Amancio Prada ( May, 1976) CARAVEL DE CARAVELES: HAPPINESS IN THE HOUSE OF THE POOR The programme, in red wrapping paper, proclaims: "Caravel de caraveles", which as everybody knows, means "Carnation of Carnations" [... With Amancio Prada, Eduardo Gattinoni, Alejandro Massó y Calila. In the Pequeño Teatro. And they play on and on for an hour. They sing, they dance, they put on capes, Calilla goes out, Calilla comes in again. They become sentimental, horny, malicious —as we used to say—, their performance becomes, by turns, eccentric, classical and rural. The spectator is hugely amused, admiring, surprised, he laughs, his leg moves of its own accord. Oh, when the spectator´s leg moves on its own accord, that means catharsis. But they do not get out of control: cutting, jumping, breaking, they move away then continue to sing. Or perhaps they stop singing for a while. The magical and rare instruments are played. (...) Only one hour. It was always said that happiness in the house of the poor doesn´t last long. It is surprising nonetheless that with such a small measure of joy, the poor have been able to work so intensely and with such variety the strange genre (of happiness). The great habitual sufferers know happiness like they know the palm of their hand. Perhaps it isn´t even that large. (Here we go)
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