‘Spain, the Eternal Maja': Goya, Majismo , and the Reinvention of Spanish National Identity in Granados's Goyescas
Walter Aaron Clark
Among the best-known Spanish
piano works is Goyescas by Enrique Granados, a
suite of six pieces in two books inspired by the art of
Francisco Goya and composed between the years 1909 and 1911.
The composer's fascination with Goya was shared by many
writers and composers in Spain around 1900, and this fascination
has wider resonance in the political culture of the time.
This paper briefly surveys the phenomenon of majismo
in Granados's late career and the role it played in
the reinvention of Spanish national identity around 1900.
A great debate raged in Spain
in the 1890s and early 1900s, centering around the nation's
place in the world, its identity and future. In the latter
part of the nineteenth century, conservative politicians
such as premier Antonio Cánovas del Castillo promoted
xenophobia and fueled distrust of foreign influence, at
the same time asserting that Spain was a major power and
had an important role to play in the world. Spain's defeat
in its war with the U. S. in 1898 made it more difficult
to embrace such a fantasy. Illusions of national grandeur
proved unsustainable in the aftermath of such a humiliation
and the loss of the remnants of a once-vast empire.
In response to this crisis,
the fundamental question arose, "Should Spain recast herself,
importing from [northern] Europe all the trappings of ideology
and material progress, or should Spain retrench to her traditional
self, casting aside liberalism, as well as economic and
technological values?"1
In more simplistic terms, this was a choice between conservative
and liberal politics, between religion and science, between
the Siglo de Oro and the Englightenment, between
apparently irreconcilable opposites that had clashed before
in Spanish history and would culminate in a ruinous civil
war and decades of right-wing dictatorship later in the
twentieth century. These were the issues that preoccupied
a number of writers collectively known as the Generation
of '98.
Then again, maybe this was
an artificial dichotomy. Perhaps there was a third way.
In his 1895 essay En torno al casticismo ("On
'Casticism'"), Miguel de Unamuno, one of the leading writers
of the Generation of '98, found a solution that came to
exercise a profound influence on artists and intellectuals
in the wake of the Spanish-American War. Casticismo
means "genuine Spanishness," the pure spirit of the
nation, implying a reverence for tradition. Such a term,
of course, is slippery enough to be capable of almost any
definition, and some used it as a shibboleth in denouncing
foreign ideas and trends. That was not Unamuno's approach.
He rejuvenated the notion of casticismo, and from
his point of view, "Spain remains still undiscovered, and
only will be discovered by Europeanized Spaniards." 2
Unamuno believed that Spain
could, in a sense, have its cake and eat it too, that it
could Europeanize without abandoning its unique identity.
Of course, Spain was already a European nation, but by "Europe"
'98 writers in general were referring only to the most advanced
and powerful countries, namely, France, Germany, and England,
whence came the most influential trends in science and the
arts.3Spain
was perhaps a decade or two behind them in terms of its
overall development. In En torno al casticismo,
Unamuno declared with justification that "Only by opening
the windows to European winds, drenching ourselves with
European ambience, having faith that we will not lose our
personality in so doing, Europeanizing ourselves to create
Spain and immersing ourselves in our people, will we regenerate
this treeless plain."4
France served as something
of a model for the Generation of '98, because it, too, had
undergone a crisis of national humiliation in the Franco-Prussian
War of 1870-71, which had shattered its illusions of military
and cultural superiority. The defeat led to an interest
in monuments and museums as emblems of the nation's former
glory. And the center of the country, especially Paris,
held the key to national renewal; it was the hub around
which revived greatness must revolve.5
Unamuno focused on Castile
and Madrid as the center from which national regeneration
would come. Another '98 exponent of this view was the Valencian
author José Martínez Ruiz, known as "Azorín."
For him, the most important cultural currents in the Spanish
revival were the Generation of '98, Wagnerism, and landscape
painting, which captured the essence not only of the distincitive
Spanish (largely Castilian) countryside, its mountains,
plains, rivers, light, and air, but also of the "soul' of
the country and its people, which was inseparable from the
earth they inhabited. Azorín and Unamuno promoted
Castile as the region in which the pure and authentic spirit
of the country resided.
Azorín was one of the
leading polemicists in search of the national quintessence,
and he wrote numerous articles that appeared in the periodicals
Diario de Barcelona and La vanguardia
on the subject of Castile and national identity. Certainly
Granados read these and internalized their message.6
It is ironic that Granados,
Azorín, Unamuno, and other proponents of Castilianism
were not themselves from Castile. Nonetheless, they and
likeminded spirits "defined the nation in terms of Castile,
the 'mother lode' of Spain from which the modern Spanish
State was to emerge: its spiritual core, center of past
imperial glories, and cultural home of renowned classical
poets, painters, and statesmen."7
It was, as Azorín put it, "that most glorious part
of Spain to which we owe our soul."8
The role music played in this
reinvention of national identity is central to understanding
the significance of Granados and Goyescas. For
his nostalgic attraction to Castile and Madrid ca. 1800
would find expression in a musical language that was thoroughly
modern and thoroughly Spanish, European and casticista
at the same time, thus bridging the gap between liberal
and conservative even as Unamuno had prescribed.
Granados's attraction to the
life and art of Francisco Goya y Lucientes (1746-1828) in
particular came to flower at a time when Spain was searching
its past for great figures, especially in painting, who
(it was thought) had delved so deeply into the Spanish "soul'
that they had found something of universal appeal.9
In this quest for past greatness, Goya most captured the
imagination of writers and musicians ca. 1900. The sesquicentenary
of Goya's birth in 1896 was the stimulus for a revival of
interest in the artist's depictions of Spanish life, its
history, customs, and personalities. In part, the disaster
of 1898 seemed reminiscent of that of 1808, when Napoleon
invaded Spain, and people now looked to Goya as a symbol
of Spanish resilience in the face of defeat.10
IIn particular, the bohemian
character of the majo and maja captivated
Goya and his admirers, and dominated the highly romanticized
image of old Madrid embraced by Granados and his contemporaries,
a fascination known as majismo. The real-life majo
cut a dashing figure, with his large wig, lace-trimmed
cape, velvet vest, silk stockings, hat, and sash in which
he carried a knife.11
The maja, his female counterpoint, was brazen and
streetwise. She worked at lower-class jobs, as a servant,
perhaps, or a vendor.12
She also carried a knife, hidden under her skirt.
Although in Goya's day the
Ilustrados (upper-class adherents of the Enlightenment)
looked down their noses at majismo , lower-class
taste in fashion and pastimes became all the rage in the
circles of the nobility, who were otherwise bored with the
formalities and routine of court life. Many members of the
upper class sought to emulate the dress and mannerisms of
the free-spirited majos and majas . Among
the most famous epigone of the majas was the XIIIth
Duchess of Alba, María Teresa Cayetana (1776-1802),
who was the subject of several paintings and drawings by
Goya.
With the renaissance of majismo
ca. 1900, authors and writers focused on the majo/a
as an embodiment of casticismo. Vicente Blasco
Ibáñez wrote a novel entitled La maja
desnuda (1906), while Blanca de los Rios de Lamperez
contributed Madrid Goyesco (Novelas) (1908). In
1909, Zacharia Astruc wrote a series of five sonnets inspired
by Goya's La maja desnuda, entitled La femme
couchée de Goya. The following year, Francisco
Villaspesa presented his verse-play La maja de Goya.
The composer Emilio Serrano collaborated with Carlos Fernández
Shaw on an opera entitled La Maja de Rumbo (The
Magnificent Maja), which premiered in Buenos Aires in 1910.13
It became fashionable as well to reproduce Goya's
paintings as tableaux vivants. One such event in
Madrid in 1900 simulated four of the master's works as a
benefit for the needy and was attended by the royal family
and other nobility.14
Not only
the paintings and cartoons of Goya influenced Granados,
but also the writings of Ramón de la Cruz (1731-94),
the leader of literary majismo during Goya's lifetime.
His over 400 one-act comedies, or sainetes, portray
in delightful detail everyday life in the Madrid of that
epoch.15
His stage works were highlighted by the music of Blas de
Laserna (1751-1816) and Pablo Esteve (b. ca. 1730). Laserna,
director of the Teatro de la Cruz, composed about a hundred
sainetes, as well as zarzuelas and incidental music.
As José Ortega y Gasset pointed out about Cruz and
his collaborators, "his famous sainetes are, literally,
little more than nothing, and what is more, they did
not pretend to be poetic works of quality" [emphasis
added].16
Both Goya and Cruz, then, served
as models for composers around 1900 seeking to infuse their
stage works with the spirit of majismo. Francisco
Barbieri's zarzuela Pan y toros (Bread and Bulls)
of 1864 had been a big hit and was just the beginning of
a major eruption of musical theater replete with majos
and majas (see table 1).
Table 1: Musico-Theatrical
Works Inspired by Majismo, 1873-192017
Title |
Type |
Author |
Year |
La gallina ciega |
zarzuela |
Caballero/Carrión |
1873 |
Las majas |
opera |
Mateo/unknown |
1889 |
Majos y estudiantes, o el rosario de la Aurora |
sainete |
López Juarranz/Montesinos López |
1892 |
San Antonio de la Florida |
zarzuela |
Albéniz/Sierra |
1894 |
La maja |
zarzuela |
Nieto/Perrin Vico & Palacios |
1895 |
La maja de Goya |
zarzuela |
Navarro Tadeo/Falcón Segura de Mateo |
1908 |
Los majos de plante |
sainete |
Chapí/Dicenta & Repide y Gallego |
1908 |
La maja desnuda |
sainete |
López Torregrosa/Custodio Fernández-Pintado |
1909 |
La maja de rumbo |
opera |
Serrano/Fernández Shaw |
1910 |
La maja de los claveles |
sainete |
Lleo/González del Castillo & Jover |
1912 |
La maja de los madriles |
humorada |
Calleja/Plañiol Bonels & Fernández Lepina |
1915 |
La maja del Rastro |
sainete |
Aroca/Enderiz Olaverri & Gómez |
1917 |
San Antonio de la Florida |
comedia lírica |
Lleo/González Pastor |
1919 |
La maja de los lunares |
opereta |
Obradors/Giralt Bullich& Capdevila Villalonga |
1920 |
La maja celosa |
zarzuela |
Aroca/Gómez |
unknown |
Albéniz's zarzuela San Antonio
de la Florida made a deep impression on the young
Granados at its 1894 Madrid premiere, and it may have provided
the impetus for Granados's own majo -inspired zarzuela,
Los Ovillejos , only three years later. This zarzuela,
however, was never completed or produced. However, this
was merely the earliest predecessor to several other essays
in majismo by Granados (table 2). The most important
of these is the Goyescas suite for solo piano.
Table 2: Goya-esque Works by Enrique Granados
(b.1867; d. 1916)
Solo Voice and Piano
(available in Integral de l'obra per a veu i piano .
Ed. Manuel García Morante. Barcelona: Tritó,
1996):
Día y noche
Diego ronda, n.d.
Tonadillas (en estilo
antiguo). 1. Amor y odio, 2. Callejeo, 3. El majo discreto,
4. El majo olvidado, 5. El majo tímido, 6. El mirar
de la maja, 7. El tralalá y el punteado, 8. La maja
de Goya, 9-11. La maja dolorosa (Nos.1-3), 12. Las currutacas
modestas. Text F. Periquet. Prem. June 10, 1914, Palau de
la Música Catalana, Barcelona.
Stage
:
Ovillejos, ó
La gallina ciega (Sainete lírico). Zarzuela
in 2 acts, 1897, inc. Lib. José Feliu y Codina.
Goyesca: Literas y calesas,
o Los majos enamorados. Opera in 1 act. Lib. F. Periquet.
Prem. January 28, 1916, Metropolitan Opera, New York.
Piano (available in Integral
para piano de Enrique Granados . Ed. Alicia de Larrocha
and Douglas Riva. Barcelona: Editorial Boileau, 2002):
Crepúsculo (Goyescas) , n.d.
Jácara (Danza para
cantar y bailar), n.d.
Goyescas (Los majos enamorados)
(Goyescas: The Majos in Love). Book I: 1. Los requiebros
(The Flirtations), 2. Coloquio en la reja (Dialogue through
the Grill), 3. El fandango de candil (Fandango by Candlelight),
4. Quejas, ó La maja y el ruiseñor (Complaints,
or The Maja and the Nightingale). Prem. March 11, 1911,
Palau de la Música Catalana, Barcelona. Book II:
5. El amor y la muerte (Balada) (Love and Death: Ballad),
6. Epílogo (Serenata del espectro) (Epilogue: The
Ghost's Serenade). Prem. April 2, 1914, Salle Pleyel, Paris.
El pelele (Escena goyesca).
Prem. March 29, 1914, Terassa, Spain.
Reverie-Improvisation.
Recorded at Aeolian Company, New York, 1916.
The purpose of this paper is
not to present a complete analysis or even summary of the
music of Goyescas, a work of great subtlety and
sophistication. Suffice it to say here that the elements
that connect it to Goya are the following:
Two movements,
"Los requiebros" and "El amor y la muerte," are inspired
by Goya's etchings Tal para cual (ill. 1) and
El amor y la muerte (ill. 2) in the Caprichos
.
Ill. 1: Tal para cual (Two of a Kind), from Goya's Caprichos
Ill. 2: El amor y la muerte (Love and Death), from Goya's Caprichos
The opening movement
is based on a tonadilla by Blas de Laserna entitled
"Tirana del Trípili" (ex. 1).
Ex. 1: Opening, "Los requiebros," a "copla" quoting the tonadilla "Tirana del Trípili" by Blas de Laserna (1751-1816)
There are abundant
references to the popular culture of Goya's Madrid, including
intimations of guitar rasgueo and punteo
(strumming and plucking) (ex. 2), formal plans based on
the alternation of coplas and estribillo
(verse and refrain), as well as a movement evoking the custom
of dancing the fandango by the light of a candle,
which had served as the basis for a popular sainete
by Ramón de la Cruz (ex. 3).
Ex. 2: Conclusion of "Epílogo," imitating guitar punteo on the open strings
Ex. 3: Opening, "El fandango de candil"
In more general terms, Granados's
fixation on the rich visual detail of Goya's paintings results
in a music of surpassing sensuality, through melodic lines
encrusted with jewel-like ornaments and harmonies studded
with added tones, like thick daubs of impasto applied to
the canvas with a palette knife. Intricacies in rhythm,
texture, and harmony even suggest the tracery of latticework
and lace. And, in fact, the chromaticism, ornamentation,
and sequencing in Goyescas harken back to the
rococo style that prevailed for so long in Spain, and particularly
to Scarlatti,18
several of whose Sonatas Granados arranged for piano.
After performing Goyescas
in Paris in 1914, Granados shed light on the nature
of his Goya-esque inspiration in an interview with the Société
Internationale de Musique. For Granados, "Goya is the representative
genius of Spain," and he himself was deeply moved by Goya's
statue in the vestibule of the Prado. It inspired him to
emulate Goya's example by contributing to the "grandeur
of our country. Goya's greatest works immortalize and exalt
our national life. I subordinate my inspiration to that
of the man who has so perfectly conveyed the characteristic
actions and history of the Spanish people." 19
Granados's patriotic fervor
was no doubt rooted in his family's history of military
service, but it also has to be understood in the post-1898
context. Granados is clearly trying to define Spanishness
by tapping not only into the psychology of Goya but, in
his view, the underlying psyche of the whole nation of Spain.
Like Unamuno and Azorín, Granados considered Castile
to be the heart and soul of Spain itself, and Goyescas
encapsulated his feelings and attitudes about the
nation and its identity.
The Parisian press and public
were ecstatic over these latest jewels of Spanish musical
art. Commentators were quick to seize on whatever evidence
the works presented of the Spanish essence and soul. One
anonymous critic expatiated on the importance of Granados's
Castilian orientation with a breathtakingly pithy overview
of regional aesthetics:
Asturias, Galicia, the Basque country,
and Catalonia exhibit different aesthetic currents, coming
generally from outside Spain; Andalusia, Murcia, and Valencia
are impregnated with the Hispano-Moorish tradition; only
the heart of Spain, Castile and Aragon, are free of any
foreign intervention. It is that Spain that has produced
the art of Granados; it is that national spirit, in all
its purity and integrity, which animates his work and gives
it that inimitable color, that special color.20
Of course, this was not true, as the interior
of the country had been overrun and occupied by various
invaders over the centuries, including Moors and the French.
The influence of Italian culture had been immense in the
eighteenth century.21
But despite historical realities, these notions enjoyed
enormous currency at the time, and few critics seem to have
questioned them seriously. Spaniards themselves left no
doubt about Granados's status: "He is the singer of the
spirit of our race, and the voice of our land," exclaimed
the pianist and critic Montorio-Tarrés.22
These fevered attempts
to affirm racial, ethnic, and national identity were driven,
in part, by a Darwinian conviction that modern Europe was
in the grips of creeping decadence through a dilution of
racial heritage. The general fear was that "the European
peoples, descendants of a lengthy evolution, were threatened
by an inevitable decrepitude and condemned to an approaching
demise by the rise of more barbaric and vigorous peoples."
23
One way to stem this tide was through an equally vigorous
reaffirmation of cultural identity and racial roots, particularly
in music. Regression to the pure ethnicity of the nation's
or region's origins was seen as a precondition for national
renascence.24
This accounts for the "preoccupation with popular culture
and is inseparable from a faith in native virility and morality,
which contrast with the corruption of foreign influence
and cosmopolitan decadence."25
For many listeners at the time,
in his Goyescas Granados had captured the elusive
"essence" of Spain, for which critics and aestheticians
were always on the lookout. Divorced from mere historical
events and facts, this essence was immutable and perenniel.
"Eternal truths of eternal essence" were, Unamuno wrote
in En torno al casticismo, independent of history,
even as the immortal soul was independent of the vicissitudes
of corporeal existence.26
In such a statement one detects strains of both
perennialism and primordialism, evocations of a long and
distinguished national history, rooted in a racial essence
that was immutable.27These
two historical paradigms inform much of the critical reception
of Goyescas.
Thus, a contemporary journalist
was moved to note that "No one has made me feel the musical
soul of Spain like Granados. [Goyescas is] like
a mixture of the three arts of painting, music, and poetry,
confronting the same model: Spain, the eternal 'maja.'"28
The arts as well as the nation itself were unified in the
image of the maja, had taken the place of the Virgin
Mary as the appropriate icon for modern Spain. Granados
had captured precisely this in his music, which led Luis
Villalba to a flight of poetic fancy that nonetheless encapsulates
a profoundly nationalistic sentiment:
And above the fabric of melodies
and harmonies floats a supplication, like a very pure song,
in which the sexuality of the fiesta and the love of color
with music unite with the black eyes of the Maja-Nation,
of the priests in black in darkened side streets, and of
secret tribunals and autos de fe in plazas shaded
by convents, and of Holy Week processions and convulsive
insane asylums and nocturnal witches.
Villalba summons up a whole
assortment of images from Goya's paintings here to make
his point: Goya and now Goyescas captured the
national essence, in both time and place, like nothing else.29
In concluding, one hastens
to point out that Granados expressed disdain for politics
and felt it beneath an artist to become enmeshed in political
controversy. But regardless of his own motivation in composing
the work, Goyescas is one of the most significant
political statements in Spanish music of that era, for it
proclaimed the centrality of Castile—not Catalonia or Andalusia—to
Spanish national identity and deployed Goya and the majo
as icons of Castile's preeminence. In so doing, Granados
rejected the separatist sentiments of his fellow Catalans
in favor of a united Spain under Castilian control, at a
time when regionalism was threatening to pull the country
apart. Moreover, Granados's aesthetic dovetailed with Unamuno's
vision of a Spain rooted in its own traditions but fully
incorporated into the mainstream of European civilization.
Almost a century later, this vision has proved prophetic.
1
Francisco Márquez Villanueva, "Literary Background
of Enrique Granados,' paper read at the "Granados and Goyescas" Symposium, Harvard University, January 23, 1982,
10.
2
Cited in ibid., 11.
3
Xose Aviñoa, La música i el modernisme
(Barcleona: Curial, 1985), 357.
4
Trans. and cited in Amy A. Oliver, "The Construction of
a Philosophy of History and Life in the Major Essays of
Miguel de Unamuno and Leopoldo Zea' (Ph.D. diss., University
of Massachusetts, 1987), 106. Unamuno turned away from Europeanization
after 189, a year of personal crisis that altered his philosophy.
Thereafter he promoted the idea of hispanidad,
the distinctive traits that united people of the Hispanic
world, in contradistinction to the rest of Europe, and that
resulted in their marginalization. This rejection of Europe
was accompanied by an increasingly interiorized spirituality.
5
Gayana Jurkevich, In Pursuit of the Natural Sign. Azorín
and the Poetics of Ekphrasis (London: Associated University
Presses, 1999), 42.
6
Azorín thought Granados's fellow Catalan Amadeu Vives
was the composer whose music most closely embodied the views
of the Generation of '98, though others would claim those
laurels for Granados himself. See José Martínez
Ruiz, Madrid, intro., notes, and biblio. José
Payá Bernabé (Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva, 1995),
174.
7
Jurkevich, In Pursuit of the Natural Sign, 32.
8
Ibid.
9
Generation of '98 literary criticism focused on the Siglo
de Oro, particularly Cervantes, Calderón, and
Lope de Vega. See Francisco Florit Durán, "La recepción
de la literatura del Siglo de Oro en algunos ensayos del
98," in La independencia de las últimas colonias
españolas y su impacto nacional e internacional,
ed. José María Ruano de la Haza, series: Ottawa
Hispanic Studies 24 (Ottawa: Dovehouse Editions, 2001):
279-96.
10
Ibid., 2.
11
Miguel Salvador, "The Piano Suite Goyescas by
Enrique Granados: An Analytical Study" (DMA essay, University
of Miami, 1988), 11.
12
Deborah J. Douglas-Brown, 'Nationalism in the Song Sets
of Manuel de Falla and Enrique Granados" (DMA document,
University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, 1993), 75. See also Janis
A. Tomlinson, Francisco Goya: The Tapestry Cartoons
and Early Career at the Court of Madrid (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1989), 32.
13
A tonadilla with this same title with music by
José Palomino premiered at the Teatro Príncipe
in 1774.
14
See Nigel Glendinning, Goya and His Critics (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1977), 19. The event was reviewed
in Blanco y negro on April 7.
15
The word sainete comes from saín ,
fatty parts of a kill given to hunting dogs. Thus, sainete
means literally a kind of treat or delicacy (in cooking,
it means seasoning or sauce).
16
José Ortega y Gasset, Papeles sobre Velázquez
y Goya, 2d ed., rev., ed. Paulino Garagorri (Madrid:
Alianza Editorial, 1987), 300.
17
Derived from Luis Iglesias de Souza, Teatro lírico
español, 4 vols. (Coruña: Excma. Diputación
Provincial de la Coruña, 1994).
18
Salvador, "Goyescas,' 47, finds the suggestion of acciacaturas,
a particular kind of dissonant ornament associated with
Scarlatti, in 'El fandango de candil," m. 105.
19
Jacques Pillois, "Un entretien avec Granados," S.I.M.
Revue musicale 10, suppl. 104 (1914): 3. "Goya est
le génie representatif de l'Espagne. Dans le vestibule
du musée du Prado, à Madrid, sa statue s'impose
au regard, la première. J'y vois un enseignement:
nous devons, à l'exemple de cette belle figure, tenter
de contribuer à la grandeur de notre pays. Les chefs-d'oeuvre
de Goya l'immortalisent en exaltant notre vie nationale.
Je subordonne mon inspiration à celle de l'homme
qui sut traduire aussi parfaitement les actes et les moments
caractéristiques du peuple d'Espagne."
20
Press reaction to the concert is summarized (in Catalan
translation) in "L'Enric Granados a París," Revista
musical catalana 11 (1914): 140-42. This quote is
from a review in Paris-Midi by Le Colleur d'Affiches.
"Asturies, Galicia, el país basc i Catalunya reben
corrents estètiques diferents, vingudes generalment
de l'exterior; Andalusía, Murcia i Valencia estàn
impregnades de tradicions hispano-moresques; solament el
cor d'Espanya, Castella i Aragó, viu sostreta de
tota intervenció estrangera. Es d'aquesta Espanya
que l'art d'en Granados ha sortit; es aquest esperit nacional,
en tota sa puresa i sa integritat, que anima la seva obra
i li dóna aquest color inimitable, aquest color especial."
21
See E. Inman Fox, "Spain as Castile: Nationalism and National
identity," in The Cambridge Companion to Modern Spanish
Culture, ed. David T. Gies (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1999), 29. The impact of Arabic on Castilian is one
obvious example of "foreign intervention."
22
"L'Enric Granados a París," in Excelsior
by E. Montoriol-Tarrés. "Es el cantaire de l'ànima
de la nostra raça, és la veu de la nostra
terra." Of the 1913 New York premiere of Goyescas
by Schelling, a reviewer for the New York Times
thought the work gave evidence of Granados's individuality,
and that the Spain "embodied in his music is authentic."
Authentic compared to what? Evidently to Albéniz,
who "saw Spain through the veil of the modern Frenchman."
Given the immense influence of Schumann, Liszt, and Chopin
on Granados's late-Romantic idiom, was his españolismo
necessarily more "authentic" than Albéniz's?
In any case, these sentiments reflect those of Pedrell,
who also found French influence "corrupting."
23
Lily Litvak, España 1900: Modernismo, anarquismo
y find de siglo (Barcelona: Anthoropos, 1990), 246.
24
One is reminded of Christopher Hitchens's view of this sort
of thing: "The unspooling of the skein of the genome has
effectively abolished racism and creationism. . . . But
how much more addictive is the familiar old garbage about
tribe and nation and faith." See Letters to a Young
Contrarian (Cambridge, MA: Basic Books, 2001), 108.
25
E. Inman Fox, La invención de España (Madrid:
Catedra, 1997), 16.
26
Frances Wyers, Miguel de Unamuno: The Contrary Self
(London: Tamesis Books, 1976), 3.
27
See Anthony D. Smith, Nationalism: Theory, Ideology,
History (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2001), 49-51.
28
Gabriel Alomar, "Las Goyescas," El poble català,
September 25, 1910. "Nadie como el me ha hecho sentir el
alma musical de España," declared Gabriel Alomar.
"[ Goyescas es] como una mezcla de las tres artes,
pintura, música, poesía, delante de un mismo
modelo: España, la 'Maja' eterna."
29
Luis Villalba, Enrique Granados: Semblanza y biografía
(Madrid: Imprenta Helénica, 1917), 33. "Y sobre
el tejido de melodias y armonias, flota una súplica
como de canción bien castiza, donde á la sexualidad
en fiesta y á los amores del color con la música,
se junta la negrura de ojos de la Maja-Nación, negrura
de clérigos en callejuelas sin sol, y de tribunals
secretos, y autos de fe en plazas sombreadas por conventos,
y procesiones de Semana Santa y manicomios convulsivos y
brujas nocturnas." |