Busking in Spain and the History of Flamenco, Part 1

Guitar playing busker — Photo by J. Sharland Day

The city of Seville was like many other cities we’d passed through in Spain as well as Mexico — lots of traffic, disappointing modern buildings, and annoying construction that was accompanied by detour after detour through the newer infrastructures.

When the four of us, Vivienne, George, Marty, and I, needed to find the place to turn in our rental car, and then find a taxi to take us to our Airbnb, it was time for a rest in my opinion. I was exhausted from so much sensory input, and much of it was disappointing since we’d heard so many rave reviews about the beautiful place. Where was the older city that people had talked about?

Our rented apartment, as it turned out, was in the heart of the older part of Seville, which helped my disposition. I wanted to explore the older part to get a better sense of what the city was all about and what it represented but had a week to do that.

After unpacking our suitcases in the well-designed interior of our second-story, two-bedroom apartment, I felt energized. The rooms were colorful with filled walls of paintings or collected items from other cultures that were framed to display. The furnishings were objects purchased in countries such as Morocco and other parts of Africa, or whatever country the owner had visited, giving the place a good vibe. The ambiance made me feel good and I was ready to go explore.

We had started using our leg muscles while in Granada when we had to walk up and down its hilly streets, which helped us feel more eager to walk the narrow alleyways and streets of Seville. Walking was much more personal and helped us appreciate places close-up, unlike riding in a car and looking out the window.

As we walked, we observed and took mental notes of the places we wanted to dine or have drinks at later. But first, we wanted to get a feel for what was out there.

After zig-gagging from one street to the next, going in the direction we hoped would take us to the largest plaza, from the maps we had to guide us, we were pleased to find the plaza we were looking for.

On the pedestrian side of the street, we began hearing toe-tapping music. As we approached the source, there were three young men playing their guitars and singing Spanish tunes which made me want to dance. But we just stood, watched, and listened, throwing some coins into a can to show our appreciation. I could have spent more time there, but the others wanted to move on.

Series of heads…and two are real!— Photo by J. Sharland Day

We hadn’t gotten far when we saw a table covered with a white tablecloth that hung to the sidewalk that had three heads sitting on top of it. The funky wigged heads were painted like mimes with white faces, black lips, and black paint circling staring eyes. I didn’t understand the reason for mannequin heads just sitting on a table until I got closer and one winked at me. “Ah hah!” I said to the winker, letting them know I understood their purpose.

I dropped a few coins into a bowl and another head thanked me as I walked on, thinking the three to be a clever act with their bodies hidden beneath and unseen.

We walked a little further and heard more music. Another guitarist. Each of the musicians we’d seen so far were outstanding. They knew their craft as well as seeming to have an astonishing amount of talent. I wanted to stay and listen to more, but the rest of our group was moving on.

There was still more music up the street, but this time it sounded like a whole orchestra. As we got closer to the sound, I could see that it was, indeed, an orchestra with a violin soloing. The violin was lilting and lovely but instead of seeing a human playing the stringed instrument, we saw a miniature ensemble of characters, one being a male figure with a bald head, dressed in a red shirt and black pants, standing and playing a violin, controlled by a puppet master who stood behind the little guy. There were a variety of small and colorful characters ready to play instruments when the puppet master determined who played what and when. It was an extraordinary experience. I could have been entertained for hours, except for the fact that the rest moved on and I didn’t want to be left behind.

Busking puppet master — Photo by J. Sharland Day

Before we exited the plaza to move on to another area, I looked back at the buskers who were seeking tips and wondered if they had other jobs or if this was their main source of income. I’d given each a small tip, since, we were told, the protocol for tipping in Spain was giving less instead of more, as is the custom, oftentimes, in the States. This was because the wait staff in Spain got a generous wage already, unlike the wait people in the States, who got a small wage because tips were expected to fill in where paychecks left off. I liked Spain’s way of thinking. That seemed much fairer to the workers. But I wondered about the general sense of busking and tipping since they didn’t have an employer from which to get a paycheck. I hoped they had another job or got paid well from what was thrown in their tip jars.

I’d read that the term busking was first noted in the English language around the middle 1860s in Great Britain. And the term busking came from the verb to busk which came from the Spanish root word buscar meaning “to seek”. Thus, the entertainers were seeking tips, gifts, or nods by entertaining us, I reminded myself, and added, I’m glad I don’t have to entertain in the streets for tips, ’cause I certainly wouldn’t get much.

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We walked a long time while seeing many wonderful sights that we’d perhaps revisit later. But that day, as we strolled through the alleys, we saw a woman standing in a doorway of an old building handing out brochures. The sign at the side of the door said it was a Theatre for Flamenco, and the brochure was advertising a show the following night with the times and costs listed.

Flamenco, originating in Andalucía, Spain, with Seville as its capital, was one of the things we wanted to experience while in the city, so we called the number on the brochure we took and made reservations for the early performance the next evening. The cost was reasonable and included a beverage of wine or beer. We were all excited about the event.

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Click to read Part 2 when we enter the Theatre for Flamenco!