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
La gallina ciega zarzuela Caballero/Carrión
Las majas opera Mateo/unknown
Majos y estudiantes, o el rosario de la Aurora sainete López Juarranz/Montesinos López
San Antonio de la Florida zarzuela Albéniz/Sierra
La maja zarzuela Nieto/Perrin Vico & Palacios
La maja de Goya zarzuela Navarro Tadeo/Falcón Segura de Mateo
Los majos de plante sainete Chapí/Dicenta & Repide y Gallego
La maja desnuda sainete López Torregrosa/Custodio Fernández-Pintado
La maja de rumbo opera Serrano/Fernández Shaw
La maja de los claveles sainete Lleo/González del Castillo & Jover
La maja de los madriles humorada Calleja/Plañiol Bonels & Fernández Lepina
La maja del Rastro sainete Aroca/Enderiz Olaverri & Gómez
San Antonio de la Florida comedia lírica Lleo/González Pastor
La maja de los lunares opereta Obradors/Giralt Bullich& Capdevila Villalonga
La maja celosa zarzuela Aroca/Gómez

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.”

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