QUEEN OF THE GYPSIES:
The life and legend of Carmen Amaya.

Excerpt from the book "Carmen Amaya, Queen of the Gypsies". Author: Paco Sevilla.

2. Sabicas, Ramón Montoya, El Niño de Huelva.

Speaking of those who had inspired him during his early development, Sabicas said, "There were two guitarist whom I enjoyed very much. They were the absolute best there was at that time: Ramón Montoya and El Niño de Huelva. One in the classical flamenco, the other in the gypsy form. I love listening to them, their recordings. I used to say to myself, ‘If only I could play like that!’ I admired them very much. I listened, but I never copied from them. Ever since I started playing, I always did it my own way. I played whatever sounded right to me, and it seems it also sounded right to others. Thus, I stayed with my own thing and continued to study the guitar. The guitar is, of course, very fickle, and you must be with it all the time, as much as you can, and even that is not enough. Sometimes, after you have been practicing a certain piece for hours, you still make mistakes. ‘Why am I making a mistake?’ you ask yourself. ‘My fingers are all right. Why?’ I have always found the guitar to be very difficult."

Sabicas always claimed to be completely self-taught. With irrefutable gypsy logic, he said, "I never had a teacher in my life. The proof of that is the fact that I have a brother to whom I have never been able to teach a single melody. I don’t know how to teach and therefore have never given lessons, because nobody ever showed me anything."

In spite of Sabicas’ claims to the contrary, it is clear that he took a lot from the guitarist around him, especially Ramón Montoya and Manolo de Huelva. Much of Sabicas’ left-hand approach to the guitar and the use of lyrical arpeggios and tremolos can be traced to Montoya, while his thumb-work and many melodic passages are clearly taken more or less directly from Manolo de Huelva. According to Sabicas, "The one who created the most was Ramón Montoya. He was the best guitarist of his time. Nevertheless, not everything he played was his. He took some sixty or seventy percent from others and he contributed twenty or thirty percent of his own. For sure, he gave it his own gracia, his sello [stamp, personal style], his way of doing the arpeggio and tremolo, his gusto. His arpeggios and tremolos were marvelous. The man did not play in the pure gypsy style, but he did play very well and he was, of course, the best of his time."

In discussing his early influences, Sabicas bought up the most enigmatic guitarist in flamenco’s history – Manolo de Huelva. Manolo and Ramón Montoya are often mentioned in the same sentence, and the two are usually compared and contrasted, representing two parallel schools of guitar playing. Montoya was pure gypsy, while the man from Huelva had not a drop of gypsy blood. The irony is that the gypsy, Ramón, played a melodic, payo style of guitar that employed flowery adornments and a free rhythm to create a reposed and ornate music. He teamed up with the two top payo singers of the day, Antonio Chacón and the troubador, Pepe Marchena. Manolo de Huelva, on the other hand, came to represent the epitome of the hard driving, rhythmic gypsy style, and he was most often associated with the dark and unpredictable gypsy cantaor, Manuel Torre.

The two men couldn’t have been more dissimilar. Ramón was extroverted, egotistical, and exhibitionistic. On at least one occasion, he left La Niña de los Peines with her mouth hanging open while he brought the crowd to its feet to applaud his private recital between the verses of her song. Manolo, introverted and reserved, always subjugated his guitar to the cante. Qualities they had in common included a great love for their music, pride in their abilities, a gift for composing music, and an elegant and gentlemanly demeanor that earned them the respect of all who knew them.

Manolo de Huelva, intelligent and handsome, with the presence of a school teacher, created a guitar style that influenced all guitarists who came after him, yet he left no school of playing. He was very secretive about his art and therefore did very little recording, refused to teach, and, as he got older, would not play in the presence of other guitarists. He went so far as to have a curtain placed in front of him for one public performance. But it was not always that way. Manuel Gómez Vélez came into the blazing red world of Riotinto, Huelva, on November 16, 1892. He arrived, thin a weak, a half-hour before the birth of his robust twin brother, Aurelio. Manuel was not expected to live, but he hung on to grow up in the sight of the monstrous open pit, the hell-hole that was the copper mine of Riotinto. Sulferous fumes enveloped the ragged copper mountain in a wreath of suffocating smoke, while the Río Tinto, the deadly poisoness Red River, flowed sluggishly past mountains of lava-like slag, staining and corroding everything it touched. At the age of eight, Manuel and his family escaped from the inferno to the capital city of Huelva.

Manuel had two years of school, during which he learned to read and to write in a neat, careful hand. He was apprenticed to a tailor and mastered the art of cutting fabric. Later in life he would always cut his own suits and never failed to be elegantly dressed. Once, he said to the guitarist Manuel Cano, "You see how well I play the guitar? I used to make jacket lapels even better!".

By the time he was seven, Manuel had begun to accompany local singers in the many styles of fandanguillos that are associated with the province of Huelva. It is uncertain how he learned to play, but by the time he reached Sevilla in 1910, he was already a virtuoso. The following comments by Manolo indicate that he also had a profound knowledge of the cante:

Manuel implies here that his father, a craftsman by trade, had a strong interest in flamenco – if not, why would a prestigious singer like El Portugués visited him home – and it is possible that he played guitar. The same year that Manuel arrived in Sevilla, the magazine Nuevo Mundo published his picture, showing a very handsome and impeccably dressed seventeen-year-old holding a guitar in the position used by classical guitarists: the instrument rests on his left thigh which he raised by use of a footstool. A further indication that Manuel was playing classical music at that time is the absence of a cejilla on the neck of the guitar. The caption under the photo read: "Manuel Gómez Vélez. Concert guitarist whose prodigious execution is being the object of warm praise by the public and the press of Sevilla, where he has given highly notable concerts."

Clearly, Manolo had no reservation about playing solos in public at that age. He once claimed that he knew eighteen classical compositions. On another occasion, many years later, He said to the cantaor Luis Caballero, "Let’s go downstairs. I want you to listen to me. I will take the guitar on some travels through Albéniz and Falla." Manolo also played pieces by Bach and Scarlatti and "the tremolo by Tárrega (almost certainly the well-known ‘Recuerdos de la Alhambra’ that calls for the classical three-fingered tremolo technique)."

Sometime in 1913, before Manolo became really well-known, Aurelio de Cádiz, not yet a professional cantaor, said that a friend told him, "There is a young man here who plays the guitar very well... he plays with more flamenco style than your puñetera alma (damned soul)!"

"Who is it?"

"El Niño de Huelva."

"Well, let’s go see him!"

Aurelio sang to Manolo’s accompaniment and predicted that the young man would become a phenomenon. Later, Aurelio always took his favorite guitarist, José Capinetti, with him everywhere except Sevilla, where he would use Manolo de Huelva. He didn’t care for Ramón Montoya, whom he felt was too self-important. He said, "The best was Niño Huelva. Montoya played his own way. He was a fenómeno (phenomenon), but a fenómeno for himself!"

The historical record is vague concerning the next ten years of Manolo’s life. He preferred to work in private fiestas, although he didn’t shun public performances. He maintained a close relationship with La Niña de los Peines and her family, and became a favorite of Chacón and Manuel Torre as well. While performing in the Sevilla cafes Novedades and El Kursaal, he played for Antonio de Bilbao, calling him the best in footwork. His prestige continued to grow. The classical guitarist Andrés Segovia, while still a young man, heard Manolo play and said, "The last time I heard him was with some friends during the opening of a small hotel in Alcalá de Guadaira, near Sevilla, and Manolo de Huelva was accompanying Manolo de Jerez [Torre]... who sang siguiriyas better that anyone, except for La Niña de los Peines... Manolo de Huelva played simply, very flamenco, as it should be... his toque simple, emotional, and expressive. He was a distinguished follower of Paco de Lucena. Yes, Manolo de Huelva was the best when I was young."