Lorca, and Other Stars

Last night I went to see a play in a beautiful theatre. A tragedy called Bodas de Sangre, a play that I was already very familiar with (the English translation anyway) by Frederico Garcia Lorca. Originally it premiered in Madrid in 1933, and although it was not anywhere near being one of Lorca’s favorite, it remains one of his most well-known and successful plays.

Basic plot summary: A young couple is engaged, the groom’s mother is kind of a wreck because all the other men in the family have been violently killed, the bride has been engaged before to a man named Leonardo (the only character who gets a name) who is now married to someone else and has a son, the wedding happens, during the reception party the bride and Leonardo run away together, they are searched out in the woods and both Leonardo and the groom are killed, leaving his mother terribly grief-stricken and alone, and the bride claiming her virtue is intact and begging to be killed too.

The theatre itself set an excellent atmosphere for the production: An open aire courtyard with a fountain surrounded by two floors of arched walkways. Vines were growing up the sides of the walls and creeping a little bit over wires across the open roof, and when the wind blew all of the leaves rustled a little bit, without fail sending chills down the spines of half the audience.

This particular production took quite a lot of artistic liberty, and while this produced some very interesting effects (including lots of really cool percussion) I felt that a lot of it was just for the sake of being ‘new’ and ‘different’ and didn’t particularly add to the story. Most of the acting was very good, the mother was absolutely outstanding, and the singing was phenomenal across the board. I enjoyed it very much.

I have also been working in the bar a lot more this last two weeks, which has been nice, but still a bit frustrating to get used to not being called in until 11 p.m., therefore thwarting any tentative plans. On Tuesday a friend named Gerard came into the bar- he and I had met when I worked for the Civic Theatre of Allentown in Pennsylvania, and has been traveling with friends around Spain for the summer. It was wonderful to see a familiar face, and not only that, but one of the nicest and most sincere people I have ever known. What a small world!

My only other adventures as of late have both been in the mountains. Last week during the Llorar de Estrellas, Angel, Gusana and I drove up into the Sierras a little bit, just far enough to escape the city lights and watch all of the shooting stars, as well as searching out planets and constellations, and even make up a few of our own. The amount of stars we were able to see was unbelievable!

Again on Monday we found ourselves with an afternoon off and decided to hop on the moto and just drive up. We drove for about an hour and climbed almost all the way to the tippity top of the Sierra Nevadas-past the ski resort- until we weren’t allowed to drive anymore and continued on foot a little. I was shocked to see that there are still a few patches of snow up there, even in this insane heat! On the way back down to Granada we stopped in the coolest bar- my favorite kind. It was very plush; in the middle of nowhere on the side of a cliff overlooking the mountains (the sun happened to be setting when we arrived). There is an indoor bar, which is lovely, but the outside part is incredible- a pool surrounded by spacious white tented-cabana beds (alternating square and round) and modern colored lights juxtaposed with Moroccan lanterns. We lounged in one of these sipping beautiful cocktails and listening to the mix of jazz and house music. Marvelous!

SABES QUE…
The Irish bar that I am working in was the first of many Irish bars to be found in Granada. It opened in 1994.

Holy Toledo! Madrid and Portugal

Early Wednesday morning I caught a bus to Madrid to meet up with Ross, a good friend of mine since we were very little. We spent the afternoon walking around the city and exploring without a map. That night we did a little tapa-sampling (not free in Madrid, that’s a special Granada thing) and tried out a few bars and discotecas.

Thursday we decided to head out to Toledo, a town about an hour southwest of Madrid. (It also used to be the capital before some king, I forget who, moved it to Madrid to attempt to separate religion and politics.) This town has been declared a national monument, as it is one of the best-preserved parts of the country. It is charmingly gorgeous, situated on a hill with the most confusing tiny, winding, cobblestone streets and basically no new architecture. 

Home of the famous artist “El Greco”, art and religion (Judaism, Christianity and Islam were all equally represented by the population for centuries) are really predominant everywhere you look. We were able to visit a tiny chapel that hold’s El Greco’s most famous work- The Burial of the Count of Orgaz. (pictured) which was incredible. We also visited the famous synagogue there- gorgeous, with a lot of Arabic influences in the carvings, walls and ceiling. Then we headed a few blocks over to the cathedral, one of the largest and most beautiful in Europe. 

In this particular cathedral there is a tradition that the cardinals can hang their hats from the massive ceiling over a spot of their choosing to be buried, and the hats remain there until they rot. This gave the cathedral what I felt was a little bit of a Harry Potter quality, and we were able to find about 8 or 9 of the hats, in various stages of decay (one is pictured, right). This cathedral is also well known for it’s incredible art— my favorite painting in particular was in one of the chapels, depicting a representation of all of the sins (gluttony, lust, greed, etc). Lust was a hot redhead on fire, almost a dead ringer for a certain friend of mine. Thursday night was another night on the town with dinner and dancing. We were joined by Ross’s friends and a few other girls we met during the evening.

Friday was a dia del museos—We started at the Prado (classical and renaissance European art) and worked our way over to the Reina Sofia (modern). I was most excited to see Picasso’s Guernica (a response to Hitler and Franco agreeing to give a nuclearesque bomb a little trial run in this northern Spanish pueblo- the first time a bomb of this magnitude was ever used).

In the wee hours of Saturday Ross headed off to Canada and I caught another bus to Badajoz, a Spanish town on the Portugal border. From there, Angel, Gusana, his friends Pablo, Gema, Juan Pablo and I drove over to have a tasty lunch in a tiny little Portuguese village. We then returned to Pablo’s rented cottage, an unbelievably adorably situated, white washed, two story house surrounded by grapevines and various other fruit trees and bushes in the middle of some rolling green hills. After a siesta, we watched the sun set and ate dinner there- grilled beef, shrimp, and vegetables. Sunday was Gema’s birthday, so after a lazy breakfast we ventured over to a town called Castello de la Vela where we strolled through the narrow streets up to the castle (open to the public) and climbed the towers and walls. We then sat down to avoid the heat at a little café where we were served Portuguese beers and…..snails. For eating. They were apparently very good as everyone else jumped right on in and started slurping the little suckers out of their shells, but I just couldn’t bring myself to join them.  (pictured: top left, clockwise: me in a tower window of the Castle, Angel in the village, Juan Pablo on top of the castle wall, the view from our cottage window, Pablo and Gema, the snails, the cottage, and in the middle: Gusana) 
After a little more hanging out at the cottage we ended this fairy-tale weekend with a 5 hour drive back to Granada.


SABES QUE…
The American expression "Holy Toledo" likely originated from the Sephardic Jews who eventually immigrated to America. To them, Toledo was the most holy Jewish city in Europe...Holy Toledo! 

-My Rick Steve's Guide to Spain book

Fluemenco

The majority of this week was spent in bed with a little bit of a cold, but I have started feeling better during the past few days.Last night to celebrate my return to society, Angel took me on a wonderful date. We got dressed up fancy and went to dinner at a place a little outside of town with a huge terrace. We ate something involving a “spicy meat”, and something else that was so delicious I didn’t want to know what it was followed by a strawberry and cinnamon crepe. Deeeeeelicious. Then, as the sun was setting, we hopped on the moto and headed to the Alhambra- we had tickets to see a show in the Generalife gardens. This show is officially called Poema del cante jondo en el café de Chinitas, and is a poem written by the Granadinian poet/playwright Frederico Garcia Lorca. (Cafe de Chinitas is a 19th century building that houses one of the oldest flamenco clubs in Madrid. www.chinitas.com) The stage is beautifully set up in the Gardins, surrounded by a line of tall pine(?) trees and across from the Alhambra, which is lit up at night. We were lucky enough to have a full moon last night, which added to the ambiance. Every summer this theater produces a show that combines the works of Lorca and Andalucían flamenco singing and dancing— a breathtaking combination. It is also worth noting that the costumes were astonishing.

I liked the large, colorful, intricate group dance numbers the best, but there was another bit that was beautiful, a solo male dancer during “Silence” followed by “Grito” (yell) which was sung by 3 deep slow voices.

EL SILENCIO

Oye. Hijo mío, el silencio.

Es un silencio ondulado,

un silencio donde resbalan valles

y ecos y que inclina las frentes hacia el suelo.

EL GRITO

La elipse de un grito,va de monte a monte.

Desde los olivos, sera un arco iris negro sobre la noche azul.

¡Ay! Como un arco de virola el grito ha hecho vibrar largas cuerdas del viento.

¡Ay! (Las gentes de las cueves asoman sus velones.) ¡Ay!

SABES QUE…
Manolo Blahnik is SPANISH!!! His dad was Czech and his mom Spanish, and he was raised here in the Canary Islands. I love his work. I see no reason why we're not best friends.