Would it be fair to say that these days the oral tradition of passing on 'cante' from generation to generation has been lost?

In gypsy families, of course it's been lost. From the early 60s, cantes were learned mainly from records. Not long after, in places where cante once thrived people bought glasses to follow 'Mission Impossible' on TV. The need to maintain an internal culture was disappearing. Passing on styles on record does work, but nowadays the style of life which forms the backdrop to the singing is different. What does a 'cantaor' of yesteryear, who didn't know where his next meal was coming from, have in common with today's, who pockets his two thousand dollar fee and speeds off in his Mercedes?

Antonio Mairena (Photo: Paco Sánchez)

Ignoring or distorting the historical, social and cultural context of cante has been the norm in flamenco literature. Do you think the 'territory' of cante can continue to be neglected?

The answer to the question is a resounding no. Cante can never be studied without a detailed consideration of its socio-cultural and historical background. Two problems come into play here, that of interest and that of access. The social classes from which cante emanates were of very little interest to Spaniards in the 19th and 20th Centuries. In fact, to get any appreciation of them we're almost totally dependent on the accounts of foreign travellers. At the same time, when Demófilo, to whom so much is owed, writes of cantaores as "a genre of their own", he's attributing professionalism to something that was, in reality, an enclosed, impromptu family culture revolving around small gypsy singing groups... that you had to go out and look for! That he didn't do. And I'm sceptical about the usefulness of relating cante with folklore in general: cante is a very unique, distinctive phenomenon and it'd be very risky to try to squeeze it into the general schema of Iberian folklore.

Why did you decide on the term 'cante jondo' even though your subject matter shares some characteristics with cante gitano and cante flamenco?

The original French edition is titled 'Le cante jondo'. I was swayed in favour of those words by Manuel de Falla, Federico García Lorca, the 'Concurso de Granada' and the fact that the expression is even used in its original Spanish form even in France. It's also still in common use in Spain. For the Spanish edition, "cante jondo" was met with general acceptance by the University of Seville, and so that's the name I stuck with. If an existing expression is still in daily use, who's going to persuade me to use another?

Personally I decided against "cante gitano" (gypsy singing) for two reasons. Firstly, within the field of 'cante jondo' there are some 'payos' (non-gypsies) who can't be excluded, such as Silverio, Aurelio and a few others, whose songs form part of gypsy repertoires. And secondly, related to this controversy of categorising cantes into 'gitano' or 'payo', I wanted to avoid any type of provocation, especially in the title of a book written by a foreigner (which I still am, although culturally I'm international). What's most important is to transmit my convictions and my knowledge both over here and over there, so I steer well clear of squabbles over terminology. Words and notions are instruments of analysis and of description, not gods.

Your immersion in the study of 'cante jondo' coincided with a campaign to recoup cante. How important do you think those initiatives were?

For many reasons that campaign was indispensable. In Madrid in the early 50s, the last great bastion of traditional and outstanding cante was Villa Rosa. The anthology from 1954 (which was the brainchild of the French, not of Hispavox) and the creation of Zambra, also in 1954, put international and Madrid audiences in touch with a broad heritage of the type of cante favoured by Chacón, that was thus salvaged. All that was very well, but the world also had to learn about other gypsy traditions from Caracol and Mairena, both from Utrera, from Terremoto, La Perla, Agujetas... All of which was, again, very well done, but in a disorganised way and without any global perspective. The result was that each one praised their preferred styles and ignored the rest (whether for reasons of distaste or ignorance), in a tedious, never-ending squabble. What I'm offering are facts, backgrounds, perspectives, possibilities... everyone has their own style. Mine is to shed light, present the facts and leave the reader free to make up his or her own mind.

Some theories also sprung up, about cante and its origins, which were more literary than scientific in nature. Do you think the widespread publication of these opinions has jeopardised knowledge about flamenco?

Literary theories can contain intuitions which are valid or invalid. We should always seek to base our knowledge on facts.

And at the same time, flamenco research has flourished. At this stage, what do you think remains to be done?

The most useful material is research based on facts and focused on a 'cantaor' or 'tocaor', a study of a singer or musician where the aim is to discover something interesting and impartially relate it to the public. There's already way too much academic discourse; too often evidence is carefully selected to fit the desired conclusion, there's too much expression of preference, dogma, prejudice, anathema... Facts should be king, and we should always search for them with an open mind. Fortunately the new generation of researchers are bringing out more and more focused publications these days.

What are the general conclusions you've drawn from your research about flamenco?

Everything I have to say is already there in the book, which is focused on one facet of "flamenco": 'cante jondo', mostly of gypsy origin as Chacón noted in Granada in 1922. After almost fifty years spent in this field, I like the word "flamenco" less with each passing day. Pepe de la Matrona used to say that flamenco existed centuries before the word. The word is nothing more than a commercial brand name invented by the Seville press around 1860 to label the varied material which was starting to take shape as a product. A commercial brand name which, as far as I know, has no doctrinal or scientific authority, a label which some consider too sacred to even question its etymology. If that word is used as an umbrella to describe everything that's sold under its name, how are we supposed to differentiate if we use it?

You say yourself, referring to cante that "there are many doors still to be opened". Which ones are still closed?

There are many to be opened: connections with Morocco (Arab and Berber) and Northern Africa, with black Africa (as highlighted in the excellent book by J.L. Navarro García), with Egypt... We all know Andalusia has been a melting pot of peoples, of cultures. It isn't enough to shut yourself away there, you have to look outside of Andalusia. I know a leading researcher who can't face up to the idea that cante, as I suggest, could owe something to Muslim calls to prayer. Perhaps too some have to open their minds to the possibility that few gypsies have contributed anything to the heritage of cante. This is one of the most splendid spontaneous artforms that exists in the world. So please, let's treat it with the utmost respect and earnestness.

And since we've chalked up thirteen questions and Pierre told me this number was "a poor omen for French gypsies!" I added... what's the weather like over there?

Changeable, but with a gloomy outlook...

revista@flamenco-world.com

More information: The Flamenco Bibliography. By Ana Tenorio