We stood at the entrance of the iconic Feria de Abril underneath a towering arch that was adorned with bright colored paint and thousands of flickering light bulbs. From here you could see the beginning of endless waves of the red, green, and white striped casetas that formed the temporary city. Oohh’s and aahh’s reverberated through the crowd as we watched blazes of starry fire chase their way through the midnight sky. The sound of a lone guitar crawled through the cool air, emerging between the loud bangs and anonymous voices. This marked the end of the Feria.

For six days and nights we celebrated in this city’s labyrinthine streets. We drank too much manzanilla, ate too much fried fish, admired the beautiful traditional Spanish dresses, and attempted to learn how to dance sevillanas. It was as beautiful as it was exhausting.

Throughout the week I was immersed in a world of color that highlighted so many of the things I have come to Spain to learn but as expected, the only thing I learned about duende is that it does not exist in the Feria.

As Federico Garcia Lorca said in his lecture, duende is all “the black sounds”. Duende is a state of extacy that is invoked when the artist calls upon all the sadness and crushing despair of the world and expresses it in its purest form through music and art. The Feria is a time for people to celebrate and forget their sorrows so, needless to say, I did not find it there.

Two weeks before the Feria de Abril, Sevilla hosts one of the most famous parades of Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Spain. During this week thousands of people gather in the streets to mourn and pay homage to Jesus Christ. From what I have heard, this week is where the duende is very present. Hooded and masked religious groups solemnly march through the streets, some are barefooted, chained and shackled. Women wear all black and impossibly big statues of the bloody Christ are carried through the streets. People mournfully play trumpets to the slow beat of the drums and occasionally someone will break out in a desperately sad saeta as the floats make their way down through the city.

The Feria de Abril provides a sharp contrast to Semana Santa. It is a much needed release after a period of mourning and penance and though the city basks in the warm sun after a long period of darkness, reminders of the mournful procession still flicker endlessly through on every television in Sevilla.

As for the most popular genre of music played at the Feria de Abril, it is surprisingly not flamenco, despite the colorful sea of flamenco dresses that dominate the landscape. It is actually sevillana.

Sevillanas’ roots lay in old Castilian folk music that became heavily influenced by flamenco once it made it’s way into the Sevilla province of Spain in the 18th century. The music is very simple; it typically follows a 3/4 metre and has four or seven parts. Each of these parts are given three verses (coplas) and the last verse always ends with music. There are specific dances for specific types of Sevillana songs and people do not really improvise which is one of the many things that distinguish it from flamenco. Although the song structures are very simple, the lyrical content is very diverse. Sevillanas are usually about lighthearted things like farming, love, celebration, and wine.

Sevillanas at la Feria de Abril

Everyone in Sevilla knows how to dance sevillanas and for the duration of the Feria even those who weren’t on the dance floor clapped and stomped along to the unending rhythms.  The illuminated casetas (tents) vibrated with music and walking down each street wanderers were bathed in a mix of sounds and rhythms. In addition to sevillana, I heard cumbia, flamenco, and at one point I even found myself in a crowd bellowing “Cielito Lindo” with a traditional Mexican mariachi band!

During Feria week I read the beginning of The Art of Flamenco by D.E Pohren, an American who came to Spain in the 1940’s after becoming fascinated by flamenco. After writing three important academic texts about flamenco he was awarded the title of “Flamencologist” and elected to the Catedra de Flamencologia of Jerez de la Frontera, “the only non-Spaniard ever to have been so honored”. In the introduction he talks about going to a small village in the outskirts of the Sevilla province to attend a big gypsy festival centered around a series of gypsy weddings. Pohren described the celebration as “four days of laughing, loving, love-making, the gypsies driving themselves to a wild frenzy, tearing at their clothes, but always good-humored and staying within certain gypsy limits and laws regardless of their delirious drunken state”.

The more days I spent in the delirious gaiety of the Feria, the more Pohren’s descriptions seemed to fit. I became curious about the roots of the Feria de Abril in Sevilla and if there were similar ferias happening in small villages throughout Andalusia. Fortunately for me, my room mate Pilar, is actually from a small village right outside of Sevilla!

Through talking with Pilar and doing a bit of research I discovered that the first Feria was put on in 1847, beginning as a livestock fair. The next year the first casetas were set up and eventually the Feria got so big that it had to be moved to it’s new permanent location in Los Remedios. Pilar told me that villages in Andalusia also have their own ferias that are very similar but have much more of an open, community atmosphere where all the casetas are open to the public and people share their wine and food much more freely. The music at the village Ferias is very similar to music heard in Sevilla but more emphasis is put on local songs. I am still unsure as to what role the gypsies play in all of these Ferias and I lean towards thinking that the gypsies have played and still play a vital role in these celebrations beyond the obvious musical contributions but anything I could write about that would just be speculation at this point.

The contributions of the gypsies in Spanish culture has been largely minimized in many texts if not entirely removed and I have found it pretty difficult to find reliable information. Even today, there are a few Spanish music professors who deny the gypsies essential contributions to flamenco! To me, this seems absolutely ridiculous. Anyone who has a basic knowledge of flamenco knows that it would not be what it is without the gypsies.

The Feria de Abril was brilliant, dazzling, and intoxicating. It was also exhausting, and for now everyone walks around in a happy haze through a city that is in a collective hangover. Most restaurants close to the Feria are closed for the week and even many of the universities have given their students a week off to recover.

This week I will continue my search for duende in Sevilla. D.E Pohren said that today the true flamencos can be found playing in the streets and at cafes so this is where I will begin. I will also try to find a flamenco school and hopefully begin taking classes!