Raquel Meller, the most successful Spanish artist of the 20th century, struggling with pitch and pace in 1914: Sara Montiel, who made her name in the 50s singing old Raquel Meller songs, only much better: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uwvaa-qZVy4 Rudolph Valentino, who would have struggled to compete with barnyard animals had films not been silent: Maybe the X…
A flamencocrat says goodbye. I thought nation branding was the kind of thing undertaken only by scoundrels like Tony Blair and Andrei Zhdanov, both of whom were capable of presenting their villainy with slightly more tact.
Meet El Novio de la Muerte/Death’s Groom, back from the tomb (he wasn’t human anyway), and his angel-wolf Canute: Hear him sing “Agua de los ríos”: More here, including ¡how Canuto saved Death’s Groom from serpents! ¡the treasure and the skeleton’s ring! and ¡El Novio’s unfortunate relationship with the head of the bað̞a’xoθ paddleboat fleet!…
I rather liked this interview with Andalusian import ethnomusicologist Gerard/Gerhard Steingress. Spaniards cheerfully call each other Nazis all the time, but when an Austrian uses the word it carries rather more weight. It will be interesting to see whether institutions down south continue to publish his work. Google him (with the h)–he’s distinctly more impressive…
Items: Shasha: worn-out palm-broom. (Pott, Doppelung (Reduplikation, Gemination) als eines der wichtigsten Bildungsmittel der Sprache, beleuchtet aus Sprachen aller Welttheile (1862)) Gananciosa took a new-palm broom, which she found in the house, and with scratching it, made a sound, that though it was hoarse and rough, agreed well enough with [Escalanta’s] patten… Rinconete and Cortadillo…
France’s finest trip over their own testicles once again, here alienating the trombone vote. Possibly. (Mercy buckets, Dr Pete.) (Normal service to be resumed soon, so watch yer dirty mouth Manuel. Yes, you. They don’t call me Purple Boner for nothing.)
From Manuel Fraga’s dreadful Nuevos diálogos, found yesterday on the street (it’s becoming a habit): An old French song reminds us that “the pleasure of love only lasts a moment, while the sorrow of love lasts for ever.” A pragmatic English take, probably also old: What’s the difference between love and herpes? Herpes is for…
I’ve only ever been a witness of vomiting and fighting at midnight mass, but none of this is new. One of today’s Libro verde items records that until a few years [before 1848], mass was sung at one in the morning, but that the irreverences of the ignorant made it impossible. Henceforth it was celebrated…
Exhibit 1 features Die Verdammte Spielerei and some blonde and was recorded in what will presumably be the Republic of Flanders by Monday. I suppose France will get Brussels. Exhibit 2 is Tango gitano, which “forms part of a group of field materials documenting Maria Garcia performing unaccompanied Spanish songs from Asturias, Spain on January…