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La Niña de los Peines
Excerpt
from the book: "La Niña de los Peines" by Manolo Bohorquez. Published
by Signatura Ediciones.
CHAPTER
II
A
star's first steps
Although on occasion it has been pointed out that Pastora Pavón's family
had a great flamenco tradition, this is something that cannot be demonstrated.
Arturo Pavón, the pianist, son of the singer's eldest brother, commented
at one time that they were related to the Pelao family of Triana, excellent singers,
they were especially great tonás singers, although they were not professionals.
The most famous of all was Juan el Pelao, who was a martinete singer of great
quality and even today there are still people who become overwhelmed with emotion
whenever they hear his name on the Altozano or in the Cava de los Gitanos.
Manuel
Yerga Lancharro, well-known flamencologist and, by his own account, a personal
friend of la Niña de los Peines, maintained, in issue no. 67 of Sevilla
Flamenca that the cantaora had recorded some tangos of her grandparents Tomás
and Rosario; in other words, of her maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother.
It's very possible, since there is some mention of their having sung, as there
is of her mother, father and other relatives. Towards the end of the XIX century
it was very difficult to find gypsies in the provinces of Seville and Cádiz
who didn't know how to sing.
What
is clear is that Arturo was the first professional of this family, as we shall
see in a later chapter. In fact, when Pastora began to be known in Seville's flamenco
circles, they called her "Arturo's sister", according to her own testimony:
My
real name is Pastora Pavón Cruz, I was born in Seville forty-three years
ago, at Valle Street, 19, and I'm a gypsy like all the rest of my family. I made
my debut by chance, or more precisely, I was 'volunteered', in a tent at the Seville
fair, where my brother Arturo, who you have right here, was singing, sitting in
for him one day when he had had a bit too much to drink. This circumstance tended
to come up so often, that I decided to begin being famous. I was eight years old
at the time, in other words, that was all of thirty-five years ago.
Why
do they call me la Niña de los Peines? Well, it was just something that
happened, against my wishes, because I was singing a style to which I had given
a personal twist. It was a kind of "Tanguito", the "Tanguito de
los peines", a rendition of a popular song I had heard a blind man sing in
Pilas (Seville) when I was small. It wasn't a very flamenco style, and I soon
let it go. That's why, because of this song, I don't like my nickname; I like
my own original name better, the one that people have wiped out, to forever call
me la Niña de los Peines.
My
formal debut as flamenco singer, and as la Niña de los Peines, was back
in the first year of this century, in Madrid, in the Café del Brillante,
hearing night after night the best, solid cante (This is how she refers to truly
good cante done with style, notes the journalist). So in this café there
we were, Manuel Torres, one of the most unforgettable stars of the flamenco song
and way of life; Chacón (Don Antonio), a singer in whose memory you must
take your hat off. In those days I earned four duros. Don Antonio Chacón
earned six, and he was the one who made the most. Two years later, I was hired
to go to Jerez, making eight duros daily; more than Chacón, much to the
dismay of the stars. I stayed in Jerez a long time in La Primera de Jerez, the
most famous and prestigious club in the world; a place which at that time was
the real mecca for solid cante, soleares, seguirillas gitanas, bulerías,
everything that will have disappeared twenty years hence since there won't be
any more flamenco singers, if God doesn't put a stop to this.
Pastora
made these declarations in Barcelona to the journalist Ernest Guasp on July 19th,
1934 in the magazine Revista Mirador. They are of great value since they provide
much data about her beginnings. Nine years earlier, in November, 1925, she was
also asked about her background on the theater page of the Heraldo de Madrid and
she gave other very interesting information:
-
"I began singin'" when I was just a kid: when I was nine.
- In Seville?
- Yeah, in my town, in "Seviya". Down around the Alameda there are these
"little cafés", know what I mean?, and in those cafés,
well, I got going. Later on we came to "Madrí" and I was singing
in the café the Brillante, which was on Montera Street, uptown, but an
aunt of mine died here and then we headed for Bilbao to go for broke... you bet...
go for broke, since I had this little thing, that I could sing, 'cause we were
in a bad way, know what I mean?... But in Bilbao they didn't let me work, since
I was such a kid, and I had to work as an artist's model. Later on, Don Ignacio
sent us money so we could get back to "Madrí". So I sang in "Madrí".
After that I hit the provinces. And since then I've been back to "Madrí"
tons of times.
And
that's how it was, Pastora started singing when only a child of eight, and she
did it out of economic necessity. The first time was to substitute for her brother
Arturo, who aside from liking his wine from a very young age, as she herself said,
had been having problems with his voice ever since puberty. They were suffering
economic hardship at home, since her father worked little as the result of having
had an accident while working on the construction of a bridge in Mérida,
so her mother decided to try her luck with Pastorcita, who was already delighting
friends and relatives at home, at the family's fiestas. 'If you do it at home,
why not go and do it at a tablao?' Pastora la de Calilo must have asked herself.
Thus
she began to sing in Ceferino's bar which was in El Perneo in Puerta Osario, near
the present site of the Municipal Laboratory. In that place began the artistic
career of the most celebrated cantaora of all time. And her exploitation, for
she had to work a great deal, being only a girl; on occasion, from what I've heard
from some relatives, you would see her sleeping on a chair in a fair tent while
waiting for her turn to entertain the rich dandies.
CHAPTER
III
"La
Niña" appears the the Seville newspapers
Until
April, 1908 the name of our star didn't appear in the Sevillian press, which was
searched with a fine-tooth comb by José Luis Ortiz Nuevo, who is to be
thanked for many of the news articles that come up in this chapter on Pastora's
early phase, and many of which were not uncovered until now. El Noticiero Sevillano
of the 27th of this month caused a stir with the announcement of a big fiesta
in the Eslava Theater in which the artist took part along with celebrated performers.
It was a party in honor of regional groups, and was more than amply covered by
this Seville newspaper and by El Liberal. Since both reports are very extensive,
we shall only reproduce an excerpt:
In
this part Pastora Barrio, La Niña de los Peines and Luis López sang
malagueñas accompanied by Juan Gandulla, Habichuela. Young Medina also
sang in this part, giving a much-appreciated demonstration of his fine style.
At the audience's request he sang garrotín and jota, which he was thoughtful
enough to dedicate to the Aragonese. The latter applauded enthusiastically, and
frenetically cheered their homeland. Then there was a fifteen minute intermission
after which La Macarrona and La Coquinera danced group sevillanas, La Macarena,
Peteneras, Panderos, Malagueñas and jaleo. After finishing her dance the
audience asked La Macarrona to dance a tango, which she immeidiately did with
grace and verve, receiving much applause. Afterwards the singers Medina and Luis
López, "El Niño de las Marianas" sang malagueñas
and tangos, and the latter was warmly applauded when he sang "Las Marianas".
The singer Medina sang jotas once again getting the audience worked up. The Catalonians
excitedly acclaimed Seville, Catalonia, and Spain. The festival ended with group
seguidillas danced without castanets.
On
the following day El Liberal also published an extensive report about this Andalusian
festival particularly mentioning José Medina and Niña de los Peines.
Unlike the previous article, in this one there was no confusion between Pavón
and Barrio when the gypsy artist was named.
Habichuela,
a true maestro of the guitar, played, admirably, as always, and Pastora Pavón
"La Niña de los Peines", José Medina and Luis López
"El Niño de las Marianas" delighted the audience with their singing.
La Niña de los Peines is today considered the best singer of tangos. She
has a beautiful voice and an appealing style. There are moments during her singing
that she appears to be groaning and crying, acheiving wonderful effects. Medina
was another of the afternoon's heroes. He executed intricate filigrees singing
malagueñas, garrotín, and, at the audience's insistence, jotas and
guajiras. The Aragonese stood up and applauded enthusiastically each time a jota
was sung. It was a good afternoon for Medina.
Seville's
upper crust society of that day wasn't quite ready for flamenco but they enjoyed
it whenever they felt in the mood. And in nearly all the fiestas that were given
for important personalities, there was la Niña de los Peines, who by the
age of eighteen was already an established celebrity, and the idol of hundreds
of aficionados. On July 20th, 1909 El Noticiero Sevillano reported on a big Andalusian
festival in which she shared the stage with Don Antonio Chacon, one of her most
admired maestros:
Last
night in the fair tent of the Círculo de Labradores in the Prado de San
Sebastián, several members treated distinguished families of Seville's
high society to an Andalusian fiesta. One dance teacher and three of her students
opened the fiesta with gay dances. Afterwards Chacón sang malagueñas
with great style, accompanied on the guitar by a well-known guitarist, and "La
Niña de los Peines sang some tangos which were much applauded. Right after
that the typical chocolate and fritters were served, the actual motif of the occasion,
and lastly, when the flamenco artists went off stage, the lovely Salud Franco
gave in to the repeated petitions of those present, and sang some granadinas,
guajiras, jotas, and soleares, with admirable perfection and delicacy.
Translation:
Estela Zatania
Book review by Luis Clemente
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