MADRID – They are often in dark, cavern-like rooms with a stage between the tables and chairs of the guests. These little clubs, called tablaos, acted as stepping stones for generations of flamenco artists in Spain to launch professional careers, much like the way many jazz musicians first became aware of the public in clubs like New Orleans.
But this intimate setup, designed to bring the audience close to the stage, has resulted in most tablaos failing to reopen, even after Spain lifted its toughest pandemic lockdown restrictions last summer. The situation has created an existential struggle for these cherished institutions at the heart of a national art form.
Juan Manuel del Rey, president of the national association of tablaos, said that if the government does not step in with more financial support, “We are now on the path to extinction.”
“You cannot work economically when you have almost more employees and artists than spectators,” he said.
While many theaters in Spain have reopened since last summer with reduced audience capacity, social distancing and other rules, this approach for tablaos has not been financially viable. Since the pandemic began, 34 of the national association’s 93 tablaos have permanently closed their doors, del Rey said.
Their disappearance comes when flamenco experienced one of its brightest moments, thanks in part to a tourism boom in Spain in recent years. Before the pandemic, foreign visitors flocked to the tablaos to discover a Spanish tradition that UNESCO is celebrating in the world’s intangible cultural heritage. After seven years of growth, the number of foreign visitors to Spain fell to 19 million last year, from almost 84 million in 2019.
The Spanish government donated a group of tablaos worth € 232,000, about $ 275,000, last year as part of more than € 2 million in support of the flamenco sector during the pandemic – a move the Ministry of Culture in a Described email as an “extraordinary effort”. However, tablao managers say the spate of recent closings shows that support was too little and too late.
In recent years, tablaos have provided work for 95 percent of Spanish flamenco artists, said del Rey. And many artists say they appreciate the creative benefits of working in informal places where they can test new ideas in front of an audience as they work towards bigger production.
Performing in a tablao “is something very unique because it is a place where I can reconnect with my inner feelings and share those emotions directly with the public,” said 35-year-old Jesús Carmona, who last year prestigious national dance award of Spain won in an interview.
“It also feels like coming home,” said Carmona, who first appeared in a tablao at the age of 10 and has since brought flamenco to many of the world’s greatest stages. “I kind of grew up in tablaos and I believe that you should never turn your back on the people and places that have helped you advance.”
On Saturday he danced in front of only 32 people in the Corral de la Morería, one of the most famous flamenco clubs in Madrid. The director of the venue is del Rey, the president of the national association. The club was founded by his father in the 1950s when tablaos began to flourish in Madrid and other parts of Spain.
Although he hosted this one-off show for Carmona on Saturday, he has otherwise closed the house since March last year. Del Rey limited audience numbers for the performance to a quarter of the 120 people the tablao could fit in before the pandemic when it also held two performances a night.
In Las Tablas, another tablao in Madrid, the venue’s two managers said they could have reopened their venue in February by taking on much of the work previously done by five employees on leave.
“We now also had to become a cleaning lady and waitress,” said Antonia Moya, one of the managers who was once a flamenco dancer herself. “This situation is simply not sustainable, but I also cannot imagine my life without this tablao and this flamenco.”
Some overseas visitors have managed to find their way to the fighting tablaos despite pandemic restrictions.
Last week the German student Sabina Reiter and a British friend attended her first flamenco performance in Las Tablas. “I love all kinds of music and dance and it feels wonderful not only to be able to spend an evening with my boyfriend in Madrid, but also to discover flamenco up close and not just on television,” said Reiter.
It’s that kind of response that makes the small venues so important to the art of performing. Jesús Fernández, a flamenco dancer who appeared this month on a show he also directed at the Centro Cultural Flamenco Tablao in Madrid, said such venues are “the best place for a flamenco dancer to try things out and forge an identity because you can improvise and see the public react in ways that are simply impossible in the more rigid format of a theater show. “
However, the reality of the pandemic has been inevitable for many tablaos across Spain, including the famous Palacio del Flamenco of Barcelona, which recently closed its doors for good.
In Madrid last month, an outdoor farewell performance was held at the centuries-old Villa Rosa, whose colorful tiled walls have been shown in films by Pedro Almodóvar and other Spanish directors, combined with a protest rally where participants placed flowers and candles at the entrance.
Such losses mean Spain is in danger of losing “the university of our flamenco,” said Rosana de Aza, a flamenco show producer who has run tablaos in Seville and Madrid. “In the tablao, our artists were able to put everything they learned into practice and turn their passion into a profession.”
With the remaining tablaos struggling to keep paying rent for their closed venues, some managers believe their survival relies on raising awareness of the importance of flamenco among locals, some of whom have avoided tablaos as tourist venues.
“Some people, especially younger ones, were not aware of the importance of flamenco and tablaos for our collective identity, and not just for tourists,” said Mimo Agüero. the director of the Tablao de Carmen in Barcelona.
“Unfortunately,” she said, “we sometimes only realize the importance of what we can lose when we have actually lost it.”
