Showing posts with label Demons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Demons. Show all posts
Friday, June 16, 2017
Demons And The Soul Of Mallorca
Dimonis d'Alaró; Infernets de Maria de la Salut; Dimonis de l'Esquitxafoc de Campos; Dimonis de Son Ganxó de Costitx; Dimonis Bocsifocs d'Esporles; Manafoc de Manacor; Dimonis d'Albopàs de Sa Pobla; Trafoc de Palma; Dimonis a Lloure de Felanitx; Dimonis Ka de Bou Pollença; Dimonis es Cau des Boc Negre de Palma; Enfocats de Palma; Dimonis de Fang de Marratxí; Diables de Sant Joan; Kinfumfà Dimonis de Palma; Dimonis Realment Cremats de Palma; Dimonis Factoria de So de Santa Maria; Sa Fil·loxera de l'Infern de Binissalem; Dimonis de sa Cova des Fossar de Sineu; Dimonis Escarrufaverros de Campanet; Es Drac de Na Coca; Endimoniats de Palma; Espiadimonis de Felanitx; Dimonis Sa Pedrera de Muro; Dimonis Hiachat de Santa Margalida.
Even if you don't know the language, this list conveys something terrifying. This isn't only because of "dimonis" (demons). There is an onomatopoeic quality of mystery and terror inherent to the names. They are all members of the Federació de Dimonis, Diables i Bèsties de Foc de les Illes Balears. This federation was formed in February 2008. Seven "gangs" were the initial signatories. Two of the seven - Esclatabutzes de Sóller and Arrels de la Vall de Mancor - aren't in the above list. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's an oversight. Or maybe there's some demonic politics at play. Whatever the reason, it's by the by.
The final two on the list - Dimonis Sa Pedrera de Muro and Dimonis Hiachat de Santa Margalida - are uniting for a night of terror in Muro tonight. Rival towns, rival gangs of demons, they will take over the bullring for a fire-running spectacular. Demons no longer simply terrorise in the streets, they put on shows. They are an entertainment of dark forces which cuts deep into the soul of Mallorca.
These gangs are mostly all relatively recent creations. Hiachat, for instance, are fifteen years old; Sa Pedrera a mere eleven. But the number of gangs, and there are others, speaks volumes about the ubiquity of cultural demonology. It also says a great deal about the entertainment value of the fire-running demons. Not all demons run with fire - there are different types of demon - but the "correfoc" is what has elevated them to the heights. And the correfoc, as now is, was essentially an import from Catalonia some forty years ago.
There are two grand occasions for fire in Mallorca. One is in January for the fiestas of Sant Antoni, the origin of most things demonic. The other is in midsummer, which coincides with the fiestas of Sant Joan (John the Baptist). They are linked by the solstice. Although Sant Antoni is in mid-January, its roots lie with the winter solstice and the use of fire to symbolise the rebirth of the sun. In midsummer, the primal force is the force of the sun itself. The spectacular in Muro is "Solstici d'Estiu", i.e. the Summer Solstice.
Although the correfoc is a modern invention, the association of demons and fire is ancient. In Mallorca, it was bred after the Catalan occupation of the thirteenth century, and specifically in the January fiestas in Sa Pobla. The early demons did run in that they ran over fire. The leaping over the fire of hell is now a facet of the midsummer fire celebration. It represents, as it always did, fertility, both in sexual terms and of the soil. There has arguably always been more of the former than the latter, its symbolism captured in the "canya fel·la", the phallic cane.
It is said that the demons and their fire rituals are distant echoes of a very much older tradition, that of the shaman, whose fires would bring survival to tribes because of good harvests. Whatever the precise origins, there is no doubting the degree to which demon culture is embedded in Mallorca.
One researcher, Miquel Sbert, says of the figure of the demon. "It is part of our intangible heritage. I don't think you have to say anything more. If you ignore or destroy this heritage, we destroy ourselves." He adds that the "devotion" of the demon, especially among children, is "a guarantee of its continuity, a connection to strengthen and promote the practice of other traditional customs".
The demon, therefore, embodies local culture in a very much broader sense. An appraisal of demon photography by José Juan Luna suggests that the Mallorcan people have a "thorough, iconic and deep knowledge" of the dark side. Unlike other societies which seek to hide these darker forces, the Mallorcans openly acknowledge them. In so doing, they have a "psychological health, which is not only calm (and summed up by the "Island of Calm" description of Mallorca by the painter and poet Santiago Rusiñol) but also gives wisdom and depth of vision."
* Video of the Dimonis Sa Pedrera, Sant Antoni in 2015.
Monday, January 09, 2017
The Kings Of Satire
In folklore, theatrical performance was historically the medium for satire. European culture provides ample evidence of the role played by satire from the days of Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome to present times. It has remained a constant, a broadening of media in more recent times having made it ever more popular in the sense of it having both a strong public following and also of it being for the people. Satire, with its strain of social comment, has down the centuries provided the people with a voice, one of criticism and of attempts to affect attitudes and legislation.
Different societies are littered with examples. In England, for example, Geoffrey Chaucer used "The Canterbury Tales" to attack fourteenth-century church corruption. Miguel Cervantes' "Don Quixote" was in effect a satire on the whole notion of chivalry. His contemporary, William Shakespeare, used satire in various plays. "Love's Labour's Lost" devoted itself to an assault on the pedantry of the educated classes.
The performance was more important than written works in appealing to largely illiterate societies and expressing what the common people might be feeling. In Mallorca, illiteracy was more the norm than the exception at the end of the nineteenth century and into the early decades of the last century. It was within this societal context that purveyors of satire could gain the ears of the people. The glosadors were a principal medium for this.
Mallorcan and Catalan culture has a theatrical tradition that dates back to at least the middle of the twelfth century. The dances of demons were first noted at a banquet for the Count of Barcelona in 1150. Over time, this mediaeval theatre was to develop a format, with the conclusion of demons' performances being characterised by satirical verses aimed at political and public life. The format, depending on the demons' gang, is still intact. Last year at Muro's Sant Antoni event, for instance, the Grand Demon of the Sa Pedrera gang issued his annual warnings and his reflections on Catalonian independence and the trial of Princess Cristina. In terms of attacks on corruption, Mallorca's demons, it might be said, are following in the long-ago footsteps of Geoffrey Chaucer.
Carnival is one of the most obvious excuses for satirical expression. The parades, theatre in their own right, are occasions for donning attire and masks that point fun at politicians and others. This subversive aspect was just one reason why the Franco regime attempted, by no means always successfully, to outlaw Carnival.
The glosadors, who feature all-year round but who are key players in this month's Sant Antoni fiestas, have invoked the saint in emphasising their historical role in demanding justice, attacking authority and strengthening values. One "glosa" which was certainly being used in Franco's time calls on the saint to "liberate us" from the language of the glosador, whose role is that of a painter, using the same colour for a saint and for a demon. It is a satire on religious reverence accorded to saints combined with barbs against an unspecified demon. Given the context of the times, it might be possible to guess who the demon was.
There is a further satire, one which has just been acted out, as it is each year. The performance of Llorenç Moyà's "Adoration of the Three Kings" on 6 January in Palma's Ses Voltes park is an occasion, similar in a way to the demons, to issue warnings while also poking fun. Corruption was a target, and the local police force wasn't spared. The possible return of José Ramón Bauzá as leader of the Partido Popular was another. If he dares to bring back TIL (trilingual teaching), there'll be a missile heading his way. Other subjects were school bullying and housing: the dogs at the Son Reus pound have better lives than people who live in cold conditions at this time of the year in Palma's worst neighbourhoods.
There were invited amateurs, as there always are. One was the former tourism minister and potential rival to Bauzá as PP leader, Jaime Martínez, who uttered the words: "The government tells you 'no' ... what part of the 'no' do you not understand?" At least and for once, a politician wasn't taking himself too seriously.
This is a time of the year, because of the Adoration, the demons and glosadors of Sant Antoni, and Carnival in a few weeks time, when satire is at its height. And it isn't only apparent with the performances. Look out as well for the bonfires for Sant Antoni and Sant Sebastià. In Pollensa, where Sant Antoni has additional meaning because of its pine climb, political parties make a habit of using their bonfires to convey a message. There was one a few years ago that was a pyramid of 500 euro notes which represented the auditorium project that finally was never pursued, perhaps proving that satire and its criticism can sometimes be effective.
Different societies are littered with examples. In England, for example, Geoffrey Chaucer used "The Canterbury Tales" to attack fourteenth-century church corruption. Miguel Cervantes' "Don Quixote" was in effect a satire on the whole notion of chivalry. His contemporary, William Shakespeare, used satire in various plays. "Love's Labour's Lost" devoted itself to an assault on the pedantry of the educated classes.
The performance was more important than written works in appealing to largely illiterate societies and expressing what the common people might be feeling. In Mallorca, illiteracy was more the norm than the exception at the end of the nineteenth century and into the early decades of the last century. It was within this societal context that purveyors of satire could gain the ears of the people. The glosadors were a principal medium for this.
Mallorcan and Catalan culture has a theatrical tradition that dates back to at least the middle of the twelfth century. The dances of demons were first noted at a banquet for the Count of Barcelona in 1150. Over time, this mediaeval theatre was to develop a format, with the conclusion of demons' performances being characterised by satirical verses aimed at political and public life. The format, depending on the demons' gang, is still intact. Last year at Muro's Sant Antoni event, for instance, the Grand Demon of the Sa Pedrera gang issued his annual warnings and his reflections on Catalonian independence and the trial of Princess Cristina. In terms of attacks on corruption, Mallorca's demons, it might be said, are following in the long-ago footsteps of Geoffrey Chaucer.
Carnival is one of the most obvious excuses for satirical expression. The parades, theatre in their own right, are occasions for donning attire and masks that point fun at politicians and others. This subversive aspect was just one reason why the Franco regime attempted, by no means always successfully, to outlaw Carnival.
The glosadors, who feature all-year round but who are key players in this month's Sant Antoni fiestas, have invoked the saint in emphasising their historical role in demanding justice, attacking authority and strengthening values. One "glosa" which was certainly being used in Franco's time calls on the saint to "liberate us" from the language of the glosador, whose role is that of a painter, using the same colour for a saint and for a demon. It is a satire on religious reverence accorded to saints combined with barbs against an unspecified demon. Given the context of the times, it might be possible to guess who the demon was.
There is a further satire, one which has just been acted out, as it is each year. The performance of Llorenç Moyà's "Adoration of the Three Kings" on 6 January in Palma's Ses Voltes park is an occasion, similar in a way to the demons, to issue warnings while also poking fun. Corruption was a target, and the local police force wasn't spared. The possible return of José Ramón Bauzá as leader of the Partido Popular was another. If he dares to bring back TIL (trilingual teaching), there'll be a missile heading his way. Other subjects were school bullying and housing: the dogs at the Son Reus pound have better lives than people who live in cold conditions at this time of the year in Palma's worst neighbourhoods.
There were invited amateurs, as there always are. One was the former tourism minister and potential rival to Bauzá as PP leader, Jaime Martínez, who uttered the words: "The government tells you 'no' ... what part of the 'no' do you not understand?" At least and for once, a politician wasn't taking himself too seriously.
This is a time of the year, because of the Adoration, the demons and glosadors of Sant Antoni, and Carnival in a few weeks time, when satire is at its height. And it isn't only apparent with the performances. Look out as well for the bonfires for Sant Antoni and Sant Sebastià. In Pollensa, where Sant Antoni has additional meaning because of its pine climb, political parties make a habit of using their bonfires to convey a message. There was one a few years ago that was a pyramid of 500 euro notes which represented the auditorium project that finally was never pursued, perhaps proving that satire and its criticism can sometimes be effective.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
The Seven Sins Of Saint John
Sant Joan is a town in the middle of Mallorca with just over 2,000 inhabitants and is one of a smattering of municipalities which owes its name to a saint. And he's not any old saint. He is, or rather was, John the Baptist, very much a member of the biblical A-list.
As befits a town with this name and patronage, Sant Joan honours John the Baptist with having fiestas not once but twice. Along with much of Mallorca, the town has the midsummer Sant Joan, a time of fires on the beach (not in the case of Sant Joan, it probably doesn't need to be pointed out), all manner of demonic carrying-on and, where the town is concerned, appearances by one of the Hairy Johns - Sant Joan Pelós - and the Corb (crow) de Sant Nofre.
Most of Mallorca does not, however, concern itself unduly with the second of these fiestas. In fact, hardly anywhere else does. Maybe it's due to the fact that midsummer coincides with John the Baptist's birth, whereas 29 August is the date of his death, i.e. his beheading. This said, saints' deaths aren't necessarily reasons to be reticent in having a shindig. There are a number of sticky ends that get the Mallorcan fireworks and DJs in the squares treatment.
The beheading does, nevertheless, suggest that the Sant Joan Degollat (beheaded) fiestas should be somewhat more solemn affairs than the cavorting of midsummer. A glance at the programme for today, the eve of John the Baptist's demise, might indeed hint at such solemnity. What is the "condemna" if not his condemnation?
Well no, it isn't. And nor does the subsequent "sortida rabiosa" (rabid exit, if you like) have anything to do with a manifestation of wild behaviour in light of any condemnation. The thing is that the good folk of Sant Joan have turned the whole episode into an occasion for demons to be taught a lesson and for demons to have a go at the locals.
Many a long year ago - who can say exactly when - the people of Sant Joan (once upon a time known as Sant Joan de Sineu) started having a festival of demons to coincide with the Baptist's headlessness. Way back when, there was a single "grand demon" who would appear amidst the folk of the village and terrorise them (the sortida rabiosa). Such was the apparent fear to be struck into the hearts of the locals and such was the demonic nature of the demon, it was not uncommon for a ringer to have to be brought in from another village to perform the task. For a "santjoaner", it was hard to be a beast and be utterly beastly to the neighbours.
Gradually, or in fact many years later (as in the 1990s), the solo demon was replaced by a gang of demons - seven of them to be precise. They were to represent the seven deadly sins - lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride - and they are what you now have on the eve of the decapitation of the Baptist. What once may have a genuine attempt at striking fear has been replaced by the (half-hearted) strikes of a rope against the legs and ankles of taunting locals by the seven deadly sinning demons.
The rabiosa has thus become like a football crowd with its songs combined with a lot of jumping up and down and the pipers and whistlers doing what all good pipers and whistlers do, which is to pipe and whistle for a great length of time. Plus, of course, there are the demons who nowadays aren't terribly terrorising. And if they don't cause enough terror, the locals let them know about it.
Demons come in different guises and different styles. The really frightening ones are those who play with fire. Others can be almost comical, and the Sant Joan demons - for the rabiosa anyway - fall more into this category. But they are also part of a class of demons who chase and kidnap - the ones of Alcudia for Sant Antoni in January are a good example.
The demons are looking to get their own back. This is because prior to the rabiosa, the condemna entails demons being grabbed and put into a carriage of the type that might once have been used to transport those heading for execution (by losing their heads or other means). Consequently, a demon who might have been enjoying a refreshing libation (in honour of the devil no doubt) in a local bar suddenly finds himself being dragged out of the bar and dumped in the carriage.
After all this demonic activity, everyone - demons and all - head off to the bar, wait for the fireworks and then the DJ to crank up in the square. The demons for Sant Joan Baptista Degollat are an old, old tradition; the DJ rather less so.
As befits a town with this name and patronage, Sant Joan honours John the Baptist with having fiestas not once but twice. Along with much of Mallorca, the town has the midsummer Sant Joan, a time of fires on the beach (not in the case of Sant Joan, it probably doesn't need to be pointed out), all manner of demonic carrying-on and, where the town is concerned, appearances by one of the Hairy Johns - Sant Joan Pelós - and the Corb (crow) de Sant Nofre.
Most of Mallorca does not, however, concern itself unduly with the second of these fiestas. In fact, hardly anywhere else does. Maybe it's due to the fact that midsummer coincides with John the Baptist's birth, whereas 29 August is the date of his death, i.e. his beheading. This said, saints' deaths aren't necessarily reasons to be reticent in having a shindig. There are a number of sticky ends that get the Mallorcan fireworks and DJs in the squares treatment.
The beheading does, nevertheless, suggest that the Sant Joan Degollat (beheaded) fiestas should be somewhat more solemn affairs than the cavorting of midsummer. A glance at the programme for today, the eve of John the Baptist's demise, might indeed hint at such solemnity. What is the "condemna" if not his condemnation?
Well no, it isn't. And nor does the subsequent "sortida rabiosa" (rabid exit, if you like) have anything to do with a manifestation of wild behaviour in light of any condemnation. The thing is that the good folk of Sant Joan have turned the whole episode into an occasion for demons to be taught a lesson and for demons to have a go at the locals.
Many a long year ago - who can say exactly when - the people of Sant Joan (once upon a time known as Sant Joan de Sineu) started having a festival of demons to coincide with the Baptist's headlessness. Way back when, there was a single "grand demon" who would appear amidst the folk of the village and terrorise them (the sortida rabiosa). Such was the apparent fear to be struck into the hearts of the locals and such was the demonic nature of the demon, it was not uncommon for a ringer to have to be brought in from another village to perform the task. For a "santjoaner", it was hard to be a beast and be utterly beastly to the neighbours.
Gradually, or in fact many years later (as in the 1990s), the solo demon was replaced by a gang of demons - seven of them to be precise. They were to represent the seven deadly sins - lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride - and they are what you now have on the eve of the decapitation of the Baptist. What once may have a genuine attempt at striking fear has been replaced by the (half-hearted) strikes of a rope against the legs and ankles of taunting locals by the seven deadly sinning demons.
The rabiosa has thus become like a football crowd with its songs combined with a lot of jumping up and down and the pipers and whistlers doing what all good pipers and whistlers do, which is to pipe and whistle for a great length of time. Plus, of course, there are the demons who nowadays aren't terribly terrorising. And if they don't cause enough terror, the locals let them know about it.
Demons come in different guises and different styles. The really frightening ones are those who play with fire. Others can be almost comical, and the Sant Joan demons - for the rabiosa anyway - fall more into this category. But they are also part of a class of demons who chase and kidnap - the ones of Alcudia for Sant Antoni in January are a good example.
The demons are looking to get their own back. This is because prior to the rabiosa, the condemna entails demons being grabbed and put into a carriage of the type that might once have been used to transport those heading for execution (by losing their heads or other means). Consequently, a demon who might have been enjoying a refreshing libation (in honour of the devil no doubt) in a local bar suddenly finds himself being dragged out of the bar and dumped in the carriage.
After all this demonic activity, everyone - demons and all - head off to the bar, wait for the fireworks and then the DJ to crank up in the square. The demons for Sant Joan Baptista Degollat are an old, old tradition; the DJ rather less so.
Saturday, July 02, 2016
Demons And Mushrooms: Mancor de la Vall
Mancor de la Vall is a small village which nestles in the lower region of the Tramuntana mountains (note: villages always nestle; it is obligatory). It has a population of something over 1,300 and is one of those Mallorcan villages which offers little of any great note. It is there, it is quite pretty and that's about it. But for a small village it does manage to generate its fair share of disputes. This isn't smalltown controversy of rival business or political interests, it is small village controversy and it all has to do with traditions: specifically, mushrooms and demons.
Last November, there was a row about the staging of the annual fair: Esclata-sang, the blood-bursting mushroom fair. One should explain that no blood is spilled and nor has it been in arguments surrounding the fair; the name of the mushroom describes its reddish juice. In autumn, these mushrooms grow in abundance in the area. They are prized delicacies and central to a local cuisine. So they are important, but are they important enough for there to be rows?
Well they are if the organisers arrive at loggerheads with the town hall over the holding of the fair, which is precisely what happened last year. The organisation responsible is Arrels, a local cultural association. Because of "discrepancies" involving the town hall, Arrels said they wouldn't go ahead with the fair. In the end they did. Residents and village restaurants were desperate that they should.
These discrepancies surrounded the association's property, i.e. a sort of culture room. The town hall, now ruled by Més, had decided that Arrels could not hold concerts for the fair at the room. Paid for by the town hall, it had no actual licence for such an activity. Arrels, which had experienced an at times difficult relationship with the town hall, thought that with Més in charge, things would get easier. The opposite happened.
Finally, there was a "sorting-out" that allowed the fair to proceed. In the meantime, the mayor, Guillem Villalonga, had been placed in an awkward position. He was and is a member of Arrels. It might have been thought that this would smooth out any issues regarding the concerts, but these are new times in village politics. Member or not a member, the licensing arrangements couldn't just be granted a "favour".
Villalonga's involvement with Arrels is such that he was once the "grand demon" of the association's demons' gang. Which brings us to events (or rather the lack of them) last week. The patron of the village's parish church is Sant Joan, John the Baptist. Naturally, therefore, the village's summer fiestas are based around Sant Joan, and one of the most anticipated events is the demons' fire-run, the "correfoc", organised and staged by Arrels.
The correfoc didn't take place. Unlike with the mushrooms, there was no "sorting-out". Partly, this was because the mayor couldn't intervene. It was all an issue between the demons and the church. The rector said they couldn't mount a pyrotechnic display on the belltower, as they have in the past. New tiles had been placed. It was costing the church money because of the pyrotechnics. Nevertheless, Arrels went ahead and started having their fire display mounted. The rector was furious and insisted that Arrels leave the belltower out of the correfoc show.
The role of the church building itself is central to other correfoc displays. In Muro, also with a John the Baptist church, the Sant Antoni correfoc wouldn't be the same without the fire cascading down the church and belltower as part of its climax. So, one could understand Arrels wish to include the belltower. But because the rector was so insistent, rather than leave it out, they decided to cancel the whole thing. The locals were far from happy. The mayor said it was nothing to do with the town hall.
Local reaction was not what Arrels might have hoped for. They were accused of believing that the world revolves around them. There was a degree of arrogance with their stance. Nevertheless, it was suggested that the town hall might be rather more proactive and get involved in the future by issuing clear guidelines. Once more, the mayor was in an awkward position.
What do these stories tell us? A great deal about how small village traditions, intertwined with bureaucracy and the roles of institutions (the church and town hall), take on lives way beyond their relative lack of importance. They are elevated to matters of great import and become so because, in small villages, they are all that matter.
Last November, there was a row about the staging of the annual fair: Esclata-sang, the blood-bursting mushroom fair. One should explain that no blood is spilled and nor has it been in arguments surrounding the fair; the name of the mushroom describes its reddish juice. In autumn, these mushrooms grow in abundance in the area. They are prized delicacies and central to a local cuisine. So they are important, but are they important enough for there to be rows?
Well they are if the organisers arrive at loggerheads with the town hall over the holding of the fair, which is precisely what happened last year. The organisation responsible is Arrels, a local cultural association. Because of "discrepancies" involving the town hall, Arrels said they wouldn't go ahead with the fair. In the end they did. Residents and village restaurants were desperate that they should.
These discrepancies surrounded the association's property, i.e. a sort of culture room. The town hall, now ruled by Més, had decided that Arrels could not hold concerts for the fair at the room. Paid for by the town hall, it had no actual licence for such an activity. Arrels, which had experienced an at times difficult relationship with the town hall, thought that with Més in charge, things would get easier. The opposite happened.
Finally, there was a "sorting-out" that allowed the fair to proceed. In the meantime, the mayor, Guillem Villalonga, had been placed in an awkward position. He was and is a member of Arrels. It might have been thought that this would smooth out any issues regarding the concerts, but these are new times in village politics. Member or not a member, the licensing arrangements couldn't just be granted a "favour".
Villalonga's involvement with Arrels is such that he was once the "grand demon" of the association's demons' gang. Which brings us to events (or rather the lack of them) last week. The patron of the village's parish church is Sant Joan, John the Baptist. Naturally, therefore, the village's summer fiestas are based around Sant Joan, and one of the most anticipated events is the demons' fire-run, the "correfoc", organised and staged by Arrels.
The correfoc didn't take place. Unlike with the mushrooms, there was no "sorting-out". Partly, this was because the mayor couldn't intervene. It was all an issue between the demons and the church. The rector said they couldn't mount a pyrotechnic display on the belltower, as they have in the past. New tiles had been placed. It was costing the church money because of the pyrotechnics. Nevertheless, Arrels went ahead and started having their fire display mounted. The rector was furious and insisted that Arrels leave the belltower out of the correfoc show.
The role of the church building itself is central to other correfoc displays. In Muro, also with a John the Baptist church, the Sant Antoni correfoc wouldn't be the same without the fire cascading down the church and belltower as part of its climax. So, one could understand Arrels wish to include the belltower. But because the rector was so insistent, rather than leave it out, they decided to cancel the whole thing. The locals were far from happy. The mayor said it was nothing to do with the town hall.
Local reaction was not what Arrels might have hoped for. They were accused of believing that the world revolves around them. There was a degree of arrogance with their stance. Nevertheless, it was suggested that the town hall might be rather more proactive and get involved in the future by issuing clear guidelines. Once more, the mayor was in an awkward position.
What do these stories tell us? A great deal about how small village traditions, intertwined with bureaucracy and the roles of institutions (the church and town hall), take on lives way beyond their relative lack of importance. They are elevated to matters of great import and become so because, in small villages, they are all that matter.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Demons And Models For Wives
And into this kaleidoscope we also have the strange story of the demon who seemed to have found a model as a wife, the model in question being one Aline, a Russian blonde. Aline's dalliance with a demon, a Grand Demon no less, has caused one almighty great rumpus as well as an almighty great racket. When there's a protest to be had, out come the pots and pans. The beating of them creates one heck of a cacophony.
It needs to be said, in the interests of accuracy, that Aline and the Grand Demon got no further than being photographed. But it is the photos that brewed up the storm, and it has been hovering over Manacor ever since the latest edition of the town's magazine, "Perlas y Cuevas", celebrated Sant Antoni by showing topless Aline with the Grand Demon in what has been described as a series of "erotic" poses. In one, Aline is taking two hands to one of the demon's horns, while he, tongue hanging out, is in the process of trying to remove one of her stockings.
So the legend goes in the magazine, Aline has come from Russia in order to tempt the Grand Demon and has engaged in hours of seduction prior to the demons going in pursuit of the holy hermit of Sant Antoni. No sooner had the magazine come out and the photos and the arguments were all over social media, at which point the mainstream media picked up on them as well. The outcry led to the caceroladas, "feminist" ones, according to one report, outside the office of the magazine and the home of its editor, Antoni Ferrer, who was said to have been watching Tarantino's latest while all the banging of saucepans was going on.
Ferrer defended the photos by saying it was professional and that there had been no intention to offend or to stir up controversy. The photos used were apparently the most "neutral" of some 500 that were taken, and he was somewhat bemused by the fact that people might be shocked by the photos, bearing in mind the years of censorship in the past. While the magazine has received plenty of messages of support, this hasn't come from institutions. The Council of Mallorca has taken the side of the protesters and condemned the use of imagery which depicts "cheesy sexist stereotypes". The Sant Antoni patronage association in Manacor has also criticised the magazine and has disassociated itself from it by stating that it had nothing to do with the images.
Rather more sinister, as far as protest is concerned, is the fact that Ferrer says that he took a phone call during which a threat was made to his 84-year-old mother. Above all, though, and in addition to stressing the professionalism of the publication, he is at pains to point out that the magazine endured years of censorship under Franco (it is one of the oldest local publications, having started in 1960), and describes the fuss as "surreal" and an attack on freedom of expression.
The points to be made should, however, be obvious. On the one hand there is the tradition of Sant Antoni itself which might be said to have been held up to some ridicule and on the other there is the fact that, for all that freedom of expression should be upheld and demanded, there are also contemporary sensibilities to take into account.
It is perhaps a leap from the photos in the magazine to concerns about gender violence, but these concerns are all too real and legitimate enough, while the current political climate in Mallorca has taken a firm move in favour of women's rights.
One's own reaction to the photos will all depend on individual perspectives. The affair may prove to have been a storm in a teacup (or in a saucepan), but one wonders if advertisers might also object.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
It's A Hard Life Being A Demon
You would think that being a demon would be a fairly straightforward affair. On a few occasions a year you put on the appropriate costume and head or face gear, get painted up, grab your trusty trident and head off into the night in order to engage in a spot of local population terrorising and bothering. Once all this is done, it's off to the nearest bar for a welcome caña or several. It's thirsty work being a demon, what with all that fire knocking around.
Alas, the demon's life is not so simple. It can be that he brings it upon himself. (It might be noted that female demons are in short supply, or non-existent when it comes to the "grand" demon.) There is, for example, the political angle, such as the message that the grand demon utters prior to the full-on terrorising. Muro's alluded earlier this year to the elections and to a time after them when the Bourbons would be abdicating. As in previous years, he once more launched into a tirade against corruption, for which souls will burn in hell. Or something like this.
By implication, one can conclude that demons are of the political left and republican by instinct. One can sense this implication strongly in Muro, where the demons and the town hall - of the right and still of the right, despite the elections - haven't seen eye to eye, through the mask, for some years. So, the demon is not necessarily politically neutral, which is just one way in which he adds complication to his existence.
A further one has to do with demonic organisation. A few years ago - 2010 - the demon world threatened to be torn asunder when a rival association challenged the authority of the Balearic demons' federation. An emergency general meeting of demons in May that year had been called. All was not well, and a demonstration night of fire was put on in Pollensa. It was a show of strength by the rival demons: the souls of the federation would burn in hell. Possibly.
They seem, though, to have patched things up, but this doesn't prevent there being little local demon difficulties. In Son Servera, as an example, there was the business regarding the grand demon and interpretations of demonic activity. He, the demon, appeared to have been flouting tradition. In came some fresh new blood to the organising committee (the obreria), and it was determined to restore the correct ways. While all this was going on, graffiti was being daubed and social media were taking sides.
There are obreria in several towns, and they are most prominent in the affairs of January's Sant Antoni fiestas, when the demons are at their most demonic. In olden times, these were the organisers of church maintenance, but over times they acquired the keys to traditions: demons being among them.
Which brings us to Manacor, to its Patronat (what they call the obreria there nowadays) and to another little local demon spat. The roots of this go back to 1969, which was the year when Father Mateu Galmés was instrumental in reviving the whole Sant Antoni and so demon tradition. It was Father Mateu who also established the Patronat, a specific board of management to ensure that the traditions continued once he had gone. But despite the revivalist enthusiasm of Father Mateu, they ran into a snag. Being a demon was not on the top of the list of things that the locals wanted to do. We are talking quite a few years ago when there wasn't anything like the levels of popularity there now are for demonic matters. In purely social-standing terms, being a demon was looked down upon by many.
These demonic roles were not the ones of the rampaging demons but of the ceremonial demons, the ones which aren't scary. But ceremony or no ceremony, there was reluctance amongst locals to come forward, so the Patronat ended up handing the roles to those who were willing to put their hands up. Moreover, these were posts for life, could be inherited and be paid for.
The president of the federation of residents' associations in Manacor wants this all to change. Not only shouldn't any money be involved, the demons should be elected, just like there are elections each year for, for instance, Pollensa's Joan Mas and Dragut and the Moors and Christians set-to. The Patronat is having none of it. The federation has rejected any idea of boycotting events with demons, but it insists that now may be the time for a touch of modernity to creep in.
So, whenever you encounter demons, be they the wild or less wild variety, just bear in mind that behind every demon there are, variously, republican sympathies, organisational politics, disagreements over demonic activities and arguments regarding birthrights. A demon's life is not a straightforward one.
Alas, the demon's life is not so simple. It can be that he brings it upon himself. (It might be noted that female demons are in short supply, or non-existent when it comes to the "grand" demon.) There is, for example, the political angle, such as the message that the grand demon utters prior to the full-on terrorising. Muro's alluded earlier this year to the elections and to a time after them when the Bourbons would be abdicating. As in previous years, he once more launched into a tirade against corruption, for which souls will burn in hell. Or something like this.
By implication, one can conclude that demons are of the political left and republican by instinct. One can sense this implication strongly in Muro, where the demons and the town hall - of the right and still of the right, despite the elections - haven't seen eye to eye, through the mask, for some years. So, the demon is not necessarily politically neutral, which is just one way in which he adds complication to his existence.
A further one has to do with demonic organisation. A few years ago - 2010 - the demon world threatened to be torn asunder when a rival association challenged the authority of the Balearic demons' federation. An emergency general meeting of demons in May that year had been called. All was not well, and a demonstration night of fire was put on in Pollensa. It was a show of strength by the rival demons: the souls of the federation would burn in hell. Possibly.
They seem, though, to have patched things up, but this doesn't prevent there being little local demon difficulties. In Son Servera, as an example, there was the business regarding the grand demon and interpretations of demonic activity. He, the demon, appeared to have been flouting tradition. In came some fresh new blood to the organising committee (the obreria), and it was determined to restore the correct ways. While all this was going on, graffiti was being daubed and social media were taking sides.
There are obreria in several towns, and they are most prominent in the affairs of January's Sant Antoni fiestas, when the demons are at their most demonic. In olden times, these were the organisers of church maintenance, but over times they acquired the keys to traditions: demons being among them.
Which brings us to Manacor, to its Patronat (what they call the obreria there nowadays) and to another little local demon spat. The roots of this go back to 1969, which was the year when Father Mateu Galmés was instrumental in reviving the whole Sant Antoni and so demon tradition. It was Father Mateu who also established the Patronat, a specific board of management to ensure that the traditions continued once he had gone. But despite the revivalist enthusiasm of Father Mateu, they ran into a snag. Being a demon was not on the top of the list of things that the locals wanted to do. We are talking quite a few years ago when there wasn't anything like the levels of popularity there now are for demonic matters. In purely social-standing terms, being a demon was looked down upon by many.
These demonic roles were not the ones of the rampaging demons but of the ceremonial demons, the ones which aren't scary. But ceremony or no ceremony, there was reluctance amongst locals to come forward, so the Patronat ended up handing the roles to those who were willing to put their hands up. Moreover, these were posts for life, could be inherited and be paid for.
The president of the federation of residents' associations in Manacor wants this all to change. Not only shouldn't any money be involved, the demons should be elected, just like there are elections each year for, for instance, Pollensa's Joan Mas and Dragut and the Moors and Christians set-to. The Patronat is having none of it. The federation has rejected any idea of boycotting events with demons, but it insists that now may be the time for a touch of modernity to creep in.
So, whenever you encounter demons, be they the wild or less wild variety, just bear in mind that behind every demon there are, variously, republican sympathies, organisational politics, disagreements over demonic activities and arguments regarding birthrights. A demon's life is not a straightforward one.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Corrupting Purity: Burgos and warnings from the inferno
Fiestas are often the setting for satirical and critical displays and comments: the big heads of Carnival time depict political figures in a satirical fashion; the fiesta "pregon", an oration which kicks off a celebration, can be an occasion for scathing comment; if there is a matter of local controversy, the fiesta can provoke cat-calls, jeers and the banging of saucepans; demons' spectaculars can be accompanied by satirical "versots", directed at politicians.
At Muro's Sant Antoni demons' spectacular on the evening of 16 January, the "versots" delivered by the Grand Demon followed this tradition. Uttered in doom and horror-laden tones, with mysterious and frightening musical accompaniment, the versots are a warning. The dark forces from the inferno are watching. Politicians should be worried. Hell could be unleashed.
In the spectacular a sort of hell is unleashed. The fires, the fire-run, the demonic faces rage, race and stare once the versots have come to their crescendo, the Grand Demon being the father to this earthly inferno; he's the manic street screecher, the twisted fire-starter. But at Muro a hell had been portrayed prior to the versot pronouncements. From behind a screen, silhouetted demons abducted a pious, Bible-reading virgin. She was raped - and the scene was that graphic that it left nothing to the imagination - and was then groped as a demon pulled two babies from between her legs. The first was not devil-like. It was ripped to pieces. The second was a devil. It transformed itself into the Grand Demon who then smashed his way through the screen in order to deliver his words of warning.
The performance caused some upset, but as far as I am aware there haven't been official complaints. Perhaps there is a difference when it comes to sensibilities, as it is hard to imagine a family gathering in Britain being presented with such a performance. But while the rape was distasteful, it was intended to be symbolic. The Grand Demon spoke darkly of the corruption of purity. He named many, mostly all of them politicians both national and local.
Extreme it may have been in its portrayal, but this was a performance of protest, just as other elements of fiesta can be styled as protest. Fiestas can therefore be used as popular expressions of discontent, and at a time when street protests are being clamped down on in Spain, politicians might need reminding that there is such a thing as discontent and that it will find a way of expressing itself, however much they, the politicians, seek to neuter the protest.
The Grand Demon's warning against the rape caused by corruption could just as easily have been a devilish sermon directed at the whole of the political system which, combined with its corruption, is threatening to finally fan the flames of protest. The government's move to limit protests, a further prime element in an increasingly combustible mix, could backfire; Spanish society may often be styled as being apathetic, but when protest is the only form of representation it feels that it has, then it will not lie down and be doormatted.
There have been astonishing things happening in the city of Burgos. Work on a road expansion scheme in what is a working-class neighbourhood, Gamonal, has been halted definitely by the city's Partido Popular mayor. The scheme, to turn a road there into a boulevard at a cost of eight million euros, has been opposed by residents who argue that the money could be used on other things and that the expansion would increase traffic and noise pollution. On the face of it, this might not seem like an issue which would spark off massive and violent protests, but it has. Arrests of protesters were made in Burgos where there were five days of rioting and protest, and the protests spread to Madrid and had threatened to go nationwide in 48 other cities.
The mayor, Javier Lacalle, says that "social circumstances" have forced him to call a halt to the scheme. But what does he mean by these? Does he really understand these circumstances, because there is far more to them than fears about safety to workers developing the road.
Rioting and violence can be and are caused by events which are themselves violent; one thinks of Mark Duggan. Developing a new road isn't violent, but in Burgos it was symptomatic of expensive waste and of warped priorities. Yes, the troubles there were also symptomatic of lack of privilege, but the social circumstances go further than unemployment and having no money. They concern an almost total loss of faith in the political system, in its corruption, in its inability to empathise with society as a whole and in its desire to remove the one way that the disaffected can make their voice heard - the right of protest.
It is a supreme irony of course that protest has led to the halting of the road. It is a victory for the protesters, and it is one that should not be dismissed as the actions of radical elements bent on causing trouble. It was a warning, just as the Grand Demon issued his warning. People have had enough. Change has to occur. Transparency is needed. Clean political parties with clean financing are needed. People have to be listened to rather than be treated as apathetic imbeciles. And they have to be allowed the right to protest.
At Muro's Sant Antoni demons' spectacular on the evening of 16 January, the "versots" delivered by the Grand Demon followed this tradition. Uttered in doom and horror-laden tones, with mysterious and frightening musical accompaniment, the versots are a warning. The dark forces from the inferno are watching. Politicians should be worried. Hell could be unleashed.
In the spectacular a sort of hell is unleashed. The fires, the fire-run, the demonic faces rage, race and stare once the versots have come to their crescendo, the Grand Demon being the father to this earthly inferno; he's the manic street screecher, the twisted fire-starter. But at Muro a hell had been portrayed prior to the versot pronouncements. From behind a screen, silhouetted demons abducted a pious, Bible-reading virgin. She was raped - and the scene was that graphic that it left nothing to the imagination - and was then groped as a demon pulled two babies from between her legs. The first was not devil-like. It was ripped to pieces. The second was a devil. It transformed itself into the Grand Demon who then smashed his way through the screen in order to deliver his words of warning.
The performance caused some upset, but as far as I am aware there haven't been official complaints. Perhaps there is a difference when it comes to sensibilities, as it is hard to imagine a family gathering in Britain being presented with such a performance. But while the rape was distasteful, it was intended to be symbolic. The Grand Demon spoke darkly of the corruption of purity. He named many, mostly all of them politicians both national and local.
Extreme it may have been in its portrayal, but this was a performance of protest, just as other elements of fiesta can be styled as protest. Fiestas can therefore be used as popular expressions of discontent, and at a time when street protests are being clamped down on in Spain, politicians might need reminding that there is such a thing as discontent and that it will find a way of expressing itself, however much they, the politicians, seek to neuter the protest.
The Grand Demon's warning against the rape caused by corruption could just as easily have been a devilish sermon directed at the whole of the political system which, combined with its corruption, is threatening to finally fan the flames of protest. The government's move to limit protests, a further prime element in an increasingly combustible mix, could backfire; Spanish society may often be styled as being apathetic, but when protest is the only form of representation it feels that it has, then it will not lie down and be doormatted.
There have been astonishing things happening in the city of Burgos. Work on a road expansion scheme in what is a working-class neighbourhood, Gamonal, has been halted definitely by the city's Partido Popular mayor. The scheme, to turn a road there into a boulevard at a cost of eight million euros, has been opposed by residents who argue that the money could be used on other things and that the expansion would increase traffic and noise pollution. On the face of it, this might not seem like an issue which would spark off massive and violent protests, but it has. Arrests of protesters were made in Burgos where there were five days of rioting and protest, and the protests spread to Madrid and had threatened to go nationwide in 48 other cities.
The mayor, Javier Lacalle, says that "social circumstances" have forced him to call a halt to the scheme. But what does he mean by these? Does he really understand these circumstances, because there is far more to them than fears about safety to workers developing the road.
Rioting and violence can be and are caused by events which are themselves violent; one thinks of Mark Duggan. Developing a new road isn't violent, but in Burgos it was symptomatic of expensive waste and of warped priorities. Yes, the troubles there were also symptomatic of lack of privilege, but the social circumstances go further than unemployment and having no money. They concern an almost total loss of faith in the political system, in its corruption, in its inability to empathise with society as a whole and in its desire to remove the one way that the disaffected can make their voice heard - the right of protest.
It is a supreme irony of course that protest has led to the halting of the road. It is a victory for the protesters, and it is one that should not be dismissed as the actions of radical elements bent on causing trouble. It was a warning, just as the Grand Demon issued his warning. People have had enough. Change has to occur. Transparency is needed. Clean political parties with clean financing are needed. People have to be listened to rather than be treated as apathetic imbeciles. And they have to be allowed the right to protest.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
How Old Is Tradition? Saint Sebastian
I have delved into my archives to look at what I have written about Sebastian in the past, and in 2009 I considered what "Ultima Hora" had to say about the Palma event. It was critical. It had a go at the organisers for not knowing what the people of Palma wanted and at the lack of international music acts and indeed at the preponderance of local acts to the exclusion of performers from the mainland.
The criticism was valid up to a point. In 2008, the music night had featured, among the acts on the nine stages, two British bands - ELO Part II and Echo and the Bunnymen. But then that was 2008. A year later, and things were different; financially different. Though crisis was starting to have an effect, there was still an expectation that Sebastian would be an aspiring international event which featured foreign acts and could therefore be increasingly marketable overseas.
After the 2008 event, the then councillor for culture at Palma town hall, Eberhard Grosske, said that he felt the time was right to re-think the fiesta. He also said that there needed to be greater promotional effort to attract foreign tourists. However, the re-thinking that was done was determined as much by finances as by fiesta content. Grosske's desire to see more promotion was lost in the need to scale back. Or this was how it seemed.
The presence of international acts on the music night added kudos, but for the 2008 event questions arose. One was to do with how much importance should have been placed on having international artists. Having one or two big (or biggish) names was never likely to attract a great deal of foreign interest. The fiesta would have required several more to have been able to do so, something that was never going to have happened.
A second question was more fundamental. What actually was being promoted anyway? Was it a music festival or was it a traditional fiesta? The answer would probably have been both, but herein lay a problem. Put contemporary and traditional together, and the promotional message becomes blurred. Most fiestas are a mix of the two, but their inherent appeal lies more with the tradition than with the new. Or does it, because there is a further question. What is the tradition?
The origins of the Sebastian story, in case you are not familiar with them, lie with events of 1523, when a bone of Saint Sebastian was brought to Palma by an archdeacon named Manuel Suriavisqui. It was a miracle bone which brought an end to a bad dose of the plague from which Palma had been suffering and which helped to eventually elevate Sebastian to the role of patron saint of the city.
Though 1523 is usually taken as the start of the Sebastian story, the celebration of Sebastian's feast had been taking place for some time before this. In 1451, for example, the Aloy bell at the Cathedral was rung to mark the solemn occasion. The patronage of Sebastian for his own chapel was awarded five years before the bone miracle, so Sebastian was firmly established in Palma before the archdeacon from San Juan de Colachi in Rhodes appeared with the healing part of the saint's body.
There have been various milestones in the Palma-Sebastian story over the centuries. It was 1634 when he was named patron saint, and there has been a fiesta ever since. In 1711, the chapel was destroyed by lightning and it took until 1757 for a new image of the saint to be brought from Rome. But coming much closer to the present day, it wasn't until 1977 that the celebration of Sebastian took on its current form. It was the folkloricist Bartomeu Ensenyat, who was known mainly for his promotion of Mallorcan dance, who proposed an "eve" (the "revetla"). And so this started in the Plaça Major and grew and grew to embrace the various other squares that it now does with its numerous musical acts. So, when we talk of the tradition of Sebastian in Palma and the newer, more contemporary aspect, i.e. the music night, this is less than 40 years old, which is not really long enough, you would think, to constitute a tradition, unlike the genuinely traditional, such as the demons and the "correfoc" fire-run.
But in fact, this isn't right. The two "traditions" are of more or less the same vintage. The correfoc is not even 40 years old itself. Demons have been around for centuries in Catalan culture, but it wasn't until La Mercè, Barcelona's major fiesta, revived the whole demons' tradition in the 1970s and also introduced the correfoc that this particular tradition took off and found its way over to Palma.
Sebastian is a grand fiesta, but in purely traditional terms, it isn't particularly traditional, unless, that is, one accepts that tradition can be 40 years old or less.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
She's Just A Devil Woman: Demons' traditions
There isn't, or doesn't appear to be, much good rhyme or reason as to why certain towns in Mallorca - apart, quite obviously from Sa Pobla - go big on the Sant Antoni fiesta and others don't. One town which does is Son Servera, the municipality to which Cala Millor (part of it) belongs, and so seriously does Son Servera take Sant Antoni that it has an "obreria" devoted to the fiesta; an obreria, in this instance, being an association which is a sort of guardian of tradition. And very traditional it is in Son Servera. Its obreria was founded in 1775, principally to oversee the maintenance of the chapel of Sant Antoni Abad, which had been ceded to Son Servera in 1698 by the parish of Artà. There's your rhyme and reason then.
Other towns have their Sant Antoni obrerias as well - Sa Pobla, for instance - and the different obrerias of the Llevant and Pla (plain) regions of Mallorca have an annual get-together to discuss matters of a Sant Antoni style. They all gathered in Son Servera's Bar Nou last November for their Antoni-in. Sa Pobla's obreria, one of those at the meeting, gives a flavour of what it does on Sa Pobla town hall's website. The most recent development in its own long history was in 2006 when it was agreed by the town's council that the demons' gang (the "colla") would be dependent upon the obreria for present and future "management". In other words, it is the obreria which has the say as to what is traditionally correct when it comes to demon activity during Sant Antoni, because it, the obreria, is the master of the whole Sant Antoni tradition.
A similar arrangement exists in Son Servera. However, not all is well on account of a controversy which is said to have divided the town. It centres on interpretations of tradition, the two sides in this argument being represented by the town's principal demon of many years standing and the obreria, which was given something of an overhaul last year when new blood was brought in to its membership. Guidelines by the new, improved obreria have sought to get back to traditions which the demon, Joan Llull, appears, over the years, to have broken with. There may not be that many local people truly that bothered, but there are sufficient for some to have taken to daubing graffiti, expressing both sides of the argument, and to engaging in rants on social media.
Clearly, when it comes to tradition, someone has to have the final say as to what actually constitutes tradition and what doesn't. Though the rumpus in Son Servera all sounds a bit silly, it probably isn't. If traditions can't be argued over, then what can be? Mallorca lives by its traditions, and in its small towns they are matters of importance, to the point at which people get worked up into a rare old lather, grab a can of spray paint and find the nearest wall.
The world of demons is not always an harmonious one, but as they are demons, who, tradition itself suggests, aren't always trustworthy and are prone to acts that are less than goodly or even Godly, then total harmony would be surprising. There again, we are talking earthly, dressed-up demons here. But, human nature being as it is, even the earthly demon can feel compelled to strike disharmony.
A few years ago, 2010 to be precise, there was a different fallout and one which had a potentially far more wide-reaching impact on the demons' world. A rival demons' organisation had reared its ugly head, following an outbreak of internecine strife at the Balearics Federation of Demons. There had been an emergency general meeting of the federation in May, and by October, the rival organisation was behind a night of fire in Pollensa that featured various demons' gangs. It was all a little like the world of professional darts, which suddenly found it had two controlling bodies and two separate world championships. Quite whatever happened after this I can't honestly say, but if one takes a look at the federation's blog website, its register of demons' gangs numbers only 26. I fancy that there are others.
A federation of demons might in itself seem odd, but there is, in addition to tradition, a fair bit to being a demon. Not everyone can do the stalky-walky thing they do without having been instructed as to the correct way to stalk. Not everyone can whirl a trident with flames spitting out of it. And the flames are a pretty important aspect of being a demon which needs control. Hence, it is a requirement for all demons, including mini-demons (from age eight), to have a certificate for being an expert in pyrotechnics.
Modernity requires, therefore, that tradition is certificated, but whether it is tradition tampered with by bureaucracy or by disagreements, there is one demon tradition which prevails. One day, concedes the Grand Demon of Manacor, his role could be taken by a woman. Whatever next? "She's just a devil woman ..."
Other towns have their Sant Antoni obrerias as well - Sa Pobla, for instance - and the different obrerias of the Llevant and Pla (plain) regions of Mallorca have an annual get-together to discuss matters of a Sant Antoni style. They all gathered in Son Servera's Bar Nou last November for their Antoni-in. Sa Pobla's obreria, one of those at the meeting, gives a flavour of what it does on Sa Pobla town hall's website. The most recent development in its own long history was in 2006 when it was agreed by the town's council that the demons' gang (the "colla") would be dependent upon the obreria for present and future "management". In other words, it is the obreria which has the say as to what is traditionally correct when it comes to demon activity during Sant Antoni, because it, the obreria, is the master of the whole Sant Antoni tradition.
A similar arrangement exists in Son Servera. However, not all is well on account of a controversy which is said to have divided the town. It centres on interpretations of tradition, the two sides in this argument being represented by the town's principal demon of many years standing and the obreria, which was given something of an overhaul last year when new blood was brought in to its membership. Guidelines by the new, improved obreria have sought to get back to traditions which the demon, Joan Llull, appears, over the years, to have broken with. There may not be that many local people truly that bothered, but there are sufficient for some to have taken to daubing graffiti, expressing both sides of the argument, and to engaging in rants on social media.
Clearly, when it comes to tradition, someone has to have the final say as to what actually constitutes tradition and what doesn't. Though the rumpus in Son Servera all sounds a bit silly, it probably isn't. If traditions can't be argued over, then what can be? Mallorca lives by its traditions, and in its small towns they are matters of importance, to the point at which people get worked up into a rare old lather, grab a can of spray paint and find the nearest wall.
The world of demons is not always an harmonious one, but as they are demons, who, tradition itself suggests, aren't always trustworthy and are prone to acts that are less than goodly or even Godly, then total harmony would be surprising. There again, we are talking earthly, dressed-up demons here. But, human nature being as it is, even the earthly demon can feel compelled to strike disharmony.
A few years ago, 2010 to be precise, there was a different fallout and one which had a potentially far more wide-reaching impact on the demons' world. A rival demons' organisation had reared its ugly head, following an outbreak of internecine strife at the Balearics Federation of Demons. There had been an emergency general meeting of the federation in May, and by October, the rival organisation was behind a night of fire in Pollensa that featured various demons' gangs. It was all a little like the world of professional darts, which suddenly found it had two controlling bodies and two separate world championships. Quite whatever happened after this I can't honestly say, but if one takes a look at the federation's blog website, its register of demons' gangs numbers only 26. I fancy that there are others.
A federation of demons might in itself seem odd, but there is, in addition to tradition, a fair bit to being a demon. Not everyone can do the stalky-walky thing they do without having been instructed as to the correct way to stalk. Not everyone can whirl a trident with flames spitting out of it. And the flames are a pretty important aspect of being a demon which needs control. Hence, it is a requirement for all demons, including mini-demons (from age eight), to have a certificate for being an expert in pyrotechnics.
Modernity requires, therefore, that tradition is certificated, but whether it is tradition tampered with by bureaucracy or by disagreements, there is one demon tradition which prevails. One day, concedes the Grand Demon of Manacor, his role could be taken by a woman. Whatever next? "She's just a devil woman ..."
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Elves, Demons And Clichés
I have an aversion to the cliché, to lexicological laziness, to the presumption of a jocular shared value inherent to the oft-repeated "bon mot". One such has assumed diffusion and usage that is so widespread, it might deserve a place in the Oxford English collection of idioms.
Yet I despair of the pixiated fracturing of "health". Its elfin corruption into "elf", with its postfixation of "and safety", is meant as a whimsy of word play. It succeeds insofar as it has passed into common usage as a means of encapsulating a collective appreciation of excessive or unnecessary resort to legislation or jobsworthing intervention. But when usage becomes common, the joke, such as it ever was, loses any force it may once have been able to lay claim to. It becomes tired, worn-out: enervated expressionism.
"Elf and safety", and its lifeless fellow-travelling quasi-maxims of "the whole world's gone made" and "you couldn't make it up, could you", are designed to create maximum indignation with a minimum of originality. And no, you couldn't make it up, because someone else did. A long, long time ago.
For all this, however, invoking the "elf" expression has a certain appositeness of otherworldliness when applied to demons, beasties and other semi-beings that go bump and bang in the night. It is one limited to an association of the mythological and mysterious. Or should be. Inevitably, though, it is limply spirited into the real world as the flat little gag that contrasts Anglo-Saxon and Brusselian obsession with corporeal protection with a Mallorcan disregard for life, limb and being lit up.
Two years ago, almost to the day, 150 assorted mayors, other politicians, businesspeople, artists and union representatives all had an away day or two or three to Brussels paid for by the local government. Their mission: to stop any interference with the tradition of the fire-run and with the birthright of every Mallorcan child to be set fire to during such a run.
Europe duly ignored them and passed its directive on pyrotechnics. I say ignored, but this directive, all-embracing in covering issues such as the transportation of fireworks as well as events that featured pyrotechnics, was quite clear in recognising that local traditions which might require someone suffering third-degree burns should be allowed to continue.
The main implication for the fire fiestas, as covered by the directive, was the participation of minors. It was never the intention that the fire-runs should be outlawed, and yet this was how it was portrayed, a Palma councillor threatening legal action at the whole world (well, Brussels) going mad. The elfin propaganda-ists failed to even bother reading the directive (understandable enough, admittedly; have you ever tried reading one?), but they should have known that, regardless of the directive being adopted by the Spanish Government (which it was), no one would take a blind bit of notice (which they didn't).
If you had, for example, attended the Sant Antoni fire-runs, you would have seen minors being showered by firefalls. Remarkable it may be that A&E and burns units are not packed out on the nights of fire fiestas, but they aren't. Accidents, despite all the fire-related events in Mallorca, are uncommon. There was the poor chap, one of the island's leading fireworks display organisers, who blew himself up during the Petra fiestas last summer, but if you must do such organising for a living, you have to expect the possibility of not living.
The vague threat that children's involvement in the fire-runs might actually be stopped has now been addressed by the regional government. It has agreed to recognise the "correfocs" as something of religious, cultural and traditional character (which is pretty much what the directive allowed for). It comes with certain conditions attached, but the tradition has been secured along with the youthful exuberance that sees kids jumping around with maniacal and pagan abandon under the demons' trident wands of fire.
There will be those who consider this a triumph of risk-taking over the risk-aversion of the compliance-choked legislation of Europe that is typically and slavishly adhered to in the UK. There will be those who will continue, on witnessing the fire-runs, to resort to the elf expression in suggesting that the elf movement will put a stop to the demons. But they will neglect the fact that the matter has been dealt with and that Europe did not and does not obsess about the fire-runs. There will continue to be those who say that the elf movement would never allow such things in the UK, and they'd be right up to a point. The difference, though, is that, unlike the UK, Mallorca has never forgotten that there are such things as traditions. It is collective forgetfulness which allows mischievously compulsive, law-amending elves to flourish as the sprites of statute-making, but not in Mallorca, where the elves will not stop the demons.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Yet I despair of the pixiated fracturing of "health". Its elfin corruption into "elf", with its postfixation of "and safety", is meant as a whimsy of word play. It succeeds insofar as it has passed into common usage as a means of encapsulating a collective appreciation of excessive or unnecessary resort to legislation or jobsworthing intervention. But when usage becomes common, the joke, such as it ever was, loses any force it may once have been able to lay claim to. It becomes tired, worn-out: enervated expressionism.
"Elf and safety", and its lifeless fellow-travelling quasi-maxims of "the whole world's gone made" and "you couldn't make it up, could you", are designed to create maximum indignation with a minimum of originality. And no, you couldn't make it up, because someone else did. A long, long time ago.
For all this, however, invoking the "elf" expression has a certain appositeness of otherworldliness when applied to demons, beasties and other semi-beings that go bump and bang in the night. It is one limited to an association of the mythological and mysterious. Or should be. Inevitably, though, it is limply spirited into the real world as the flat little gag that contrasts Anglo-Saxon and Brusselian obsession with corporeal protection with a Mallorcan disregard for life, limb and being lit up.
Two years ago, almost to the day, 150 assorted mayors, other politicians, businesspeople, artists and union representatives all had an away day or two or three to Brussels paid for by the local government. Their mission: to stop any interference with the tradition of the fire-run and with the birthright of every Mallorcan child to be set fire to during such a run.
Europe duly ignored them and passed its directive on pyrotechnics. I say ignored, but this directive, all-embracing in covering issues such as the transportation of fireworks as well as events that featured pyrotechnics, was quite clear in recognising that local traditions which might require someone suffering third-degree burns should be allowed to continue.
The main implication for the fire fiestas, as covered by the directive, was the participation of minors. It was never the intention that the fire-runs should be outlawed, and yet this was how it was portrayed, a Palma councillor threatening legal action at the whole world (well, Brussels) going mad. The elfin propaganda-ists failed to even bother reading the directive (understandable enough, admittedly; have you ever tried reading one?), but they should have known that, regardless of the directive being adopted by the Spanish Government (which it was), no one would take a blind bit of notice (which they didn't).
If you had, for example, attended the Sant Antoni fire-runs, you would have seen minors being showered by firefalls. Remarkable it may be that A&E and burns units are not packed out on the nights of fire fiestas, but they aren't. Accidents, despite all the fire-related events in Mallorca, are uncommon. There was the poor chap, one of the island's leading fireworks display organisers, who blew himself up during the Petra fiestas last summer, but if you must do such organising for a living, you have to expect the possibility of not living.
The vague threat that children's involvement in the fire-runs might actually be stopped has now been addressed by the regional government. It has agreed to recognise the "correfocs" as something of religious, cultural and traditional character (which is pretty much what the directive allowed for). It comes with certain conditions attached, but the tradition has been secured along with the youthful exuberance that sees kids jumping around with maniacal and pagan abandon under the demons' trident wands of fire.
There will be those who consider this a triumph of risk-taking over the risk-aversion of the compliance-choked legislation of Europe that is typically and slavishly adhered to in the UK. There will be those who will continue, on witnessing the fire-runs, to resort to the elf expression in suggesting that the elf movement will put a stop to the demons. But they will neglect the fact that the matter has been dealt with and that Europe did not and does not obsess about the fire-runs. There will continue to be those who say that the elf movement would never allow such things in the UK, and they'd be right up to a point. The difference, though, is that, unlike the UK, Mallorca has never forgotten that there are such things as traditions. It is collective forgetfulness which allows mischievously compulsive, law-amending elves to flourish as the sprites of statute-making, but not in Mallorca, where the elves will not stop the demons.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Foc You: Event publicity
Demons from Ibiza, Menorca, Binissalem, Sóller, Consell and Pollensa. Pyrotechnic displays. Fire runs. Folk and rock groups. All on one night. What an event. One to rival even the fire nights of Sant Antoni. Traditional culture at its best. Yes indeed, a spectacular occasion. What a pity no one knows about it.
You now do. It is tonight. In Pollensa. It is the first "Fira del Foc" or fire fair.
The first I was aware of this fair was a brief mention in the Friday What's On pages of "The Bulletin". I had to do a double take. Had I actually read this correctly? Yes I had, and it was taking place the next day. A phone call to Pollensa confirmed that posters had started to appear - on Thursday. The fair was appearing on some listings sites, mostly all late in the day, as in Friday. The earliest mention seemed to be on the website of one of the demons' groups themselves, that of Binissalem: one guaranteed to have less than worldwide impact on the worldwide web.
Where else might it have been mentioned? What about the regional government's tourism website? Perhaps under its "Hivern a Mallorca" programme, the rather misleading title for the Winter in Mallorca series of events that runs from October until April. There was no programme. There was a list of activities. Third page. Ah yes, there it was. With little or no information. There was a link to a blog for the federation of demons. The most recent entry was for an extraordinary general meeting in May. Demons have EGMs!?
What about Pollensa town hall's website? The fair is on its patch, even if it wasn't directly organising it. Nothing, save for a link to a PDF for an announcement in the press - on the Friday. Under its activities there was one for Saturday - the Miquel Costa i Llobera poetry prize. Even the normally assured culturapollensa site seemed less than sure. The event was listed, but it was faded, meaning there was no link to any actual information.
Of the mentions of the fair, there was, however, one that did perhaps shed a bit of light onto the darkness of this event of the night. It came from a blog called "d'en Potti". There appears to have been a bit of internecine strife in the demon world. A new "union" of devils and beasties has emerged in parallel to the federation. Maybe there was a good reason for that EGM after all. But if so, then why was the federation being linked by the government's tourism website? It was the new union that was behind the fire fair. Perhaps the government didn't know. In fact, why should anyone know? Fractiousness in the potty otherworld of demons might make for an amusing story, but whatever ideological or power struggle is being waged by the wearers of horns and the wavers of tridents shouldn't matter. Not to the earthly world at any rate, to the humans who might like to know about the fire fair.
Division or no division, it still doesn't excuse the tardiness with which the publicity appeared or the fragmented nature of its appearance. It does, though, say a lot. It is typical of the shocking disregard for the promotion of events. Staying on Pollensa town hall's website, there is a link for the town's fair in November. It leads you to official notices in Catalan for God knows what. It doesn't actually give anything useful. Like when it's on. Also in Pollensa, it may be several months away, but the dates for the wine fair in spring are a mystery. It is possible that they have yet to be decided, but even if they are, information is most unlikely to be released until close to the dates. And I have tried to find out, having emailed the co-organisers. No reply.
The wine fair is of a different nature to the fire fair. It is commercial as well as an attraction for tourists, a showcase for Mallorcan and Balearic wines. It may have escaped the attention of the organisers that tourists, who might well fancy ordering a case or several, could do with some decent advance notice to book flights and accommodation.
But no. One of the problems with fairs and fiestas is the publicity process. It goes something like this. Firstly a poster is presented. Dates are given but no more. Some days later, normally a week before the event starts, out comes the schedule. Either the poster or the schedule is afforded a ceremony: the mayoral and organising committee's photo opportunity. Advance information is jealously guarded in order not to undermine the egotism of the official "launch".
Through a combination of short-sightedness, self-importance, insularity (as with language) and inefficiency, Mallorca's events are undermined when it comes to their being broadcast effectively to a wider market. The events don't deserve to succeed. That some do is in spite of themselves and their promotion. There is more than just a slight sense of the foc you when it comes to publicity that isn't just local, assuming even this is done well. Ad hoc is the foc; they couldn't organise a burn-up in a fireworks factory.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
You now do. It is tonight. In Pollensa. It is the first "Fira del Foc" or fire fair.
The first I was aware of this fair was a brief mention in the Friday What's On pages of "The Bulletin". I had to do a double take. Had I actually read this correctly? Yes I had, and it was taking place the next day. A phone call to Pollensa confirmed that posters had started to appear - on Thursday. The fair was appearing on some listings sites, mostly all late in the day, as in Friday. The earliest mention seemed to be on the website of one of the demons' groups themselves, that of Binissalem: one guaranteed to have less than worldwide impact on the worldwide web.
Where else might it have been mentioned? What about the regional government's tourism website? Perhaps under its "Hivern a Mallorca" programme, the rather misleading title for the Winter in Mallorca series of events that runs from October until April. There was no programme. There was a list of activities. Third page. Ah yes, there it was. With little or no information. There was a link to a blog for the federation of demons. The most recent entry was for an extraordinary general meeting in May. Demons have EGMs!?
What about Pollensa town hall's website? The fair is on its patch, even if it wasn't directly organising it. Nothing, save for a link to a PDF for an announcement in the press - on the Friday. Under its activities there was one for Saturday - the Miquel Costa i Llobera poetry prize. Even the normally assured culturapollensa site seemed less than sure. The event was listed, but it was faded, meaning there was no link to any actual information.
Of the mentions of the fair, there was, however, one that did perhaps shed a bit of light onto the darkness of this event of the night. It came from a blog called "d'en Potti". There appears to have been a bit of internecine strife in the demon world. A new "union" of devils and beasties has emerged in parallel to the federation. Maybe there was a good reason for that EGM after all. But if so, then why was the federation being linked by the government's tourism website? It was the new union that was behind the fire fair. Perhaps the government didn't know. In fact, why should anyone know? Fractiousness in the potty otherworld of demons might make for an amusing story, but whatever ideological or power struggle is being waged by the wearers of horns and the wavers of tridents shouldn't matter. Not to the earthly world at any rate, to the humans who might like to know about the fire fair.
Division or no division, it still doesn't excuse the tardiness with which the publicity appeared or the fragmented nature of its appearance. It does, though, say a lot. It is typical of the shocking disregard for the promotion of events. Staying on Pollensa town hall's website, there is a link for the town's fair in November. It leads you to official notices in Catalan for God knows what. It doesn't actually give anything useful. Like when it's on. Also in Pollensa, it may be several months away, but the dates for the wine fair in spring are a mystery. It is possible that they have yet to be decided, but even if they are, information is most unlikely to be released until close to the dates. And I have tried to find out, having emailed the co-organisers. No reply.
The wine fair is of a different nature to the fire fair. It is commercial as well as an attraction for tourists, a showcase for Mallorcan and Balearic wines. It may have escaped the attention of the organisers that tourists, who might well fancy ordering a case or several, could do with some decent advance notice to book flights and accommodation.
But no. One of the problems with fairs and fiestas is the publicity process. It goes something like this. Firstly a poster is presented. Dates are given but no more. Some days later, normally a week before the event starts, out comes the schedule. Either the poster or the schedule is afforded a ceremony: the mayoral and organising committee's photo opportunity. Advance information is jealously guarded in order not to undermine the egotism of the official "launch".
Through a combination of short-sightedness, self-importance, insularity (as with language) and inefficiency, Mallorca's events are undermined when it comes to their being broadcast effectively to a wider market. The events don't deserve to succeed. That some do is in spite of themselves and their promotion. There is more than just a slight sense of the foc you when it comes to publicity that isn't just local, assuming even this is done well. Ad hoc is the foc; they couldn't organise a burn-up in a fireworks factory.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Play With Fire
Devil time. Devil worship. Come to the sabbat, Satan's there. Er, no, actually he's not. Let's not get too carried away with dreadful occultist-style heavy metal from circa the late '60s and early '70s. It's not what I want to talk about anyway. What I do, is the fact that it is - once more - devil time in that it is Sant Antoni fiesta time, and the night of the demons and the witches (the actual night is that of the 16th). It's a fiesta time that has taken hold in much of the island. The other day I was at a printer with a business associate. The chat was in Mallorquín, but I got the drift. We were admiring a poster for a Sant Antoni night. I ventured that all the towns have a Sant Antoni now - Alcúdia, Pollensa, Muro, Sa Pobla, just to name four neighbouring towns. Not all, said the printer chappy, but many, he did admit. Nice for him. The printers of Mallorca seem to survive on fiesta literature.
One of the biggest, if not the biggest, Sant Antoni gig is that of Sa Pobla. Quite why Sa Pobla has assumed such a status I'm unsure. Maybe someone can enlighten me. But big-time devil time status it has got. The "Nit Bruixa" or "Noche Bruja" (witch night) has become that major a do that the police this year will be limiting the numbers entering the main square in the town. They will be manning all entrances, and when the square gets full they'll stop more people coming in. This is a rare display of local health and safety it seems to me. But more of that in a bit.
The Sa Pobla event has now also spawned its own sort of pre-gig rehearsal. On Saturday, there was a fire run. Either a rehearsal or they just couldn't wait - they were that excited. Mind you, having these rehearsals is becoming a Spanish thing. In Madrid, the celebrations for new year occurred not only on New Year's Eve but also on the night before. Will this be happening with other fiestas and celebrations? Can we expect, for instance, that the flotilla of boats and the fireworks of Sant Pere in Puerto Alcúdia will now take place on both the 28th and the 29th of June?
But to come back to that practice fire run and to health and safety. Many of you who are here in the summer might have been to a fire run during the fiesta weeks. Can Picafort has one, for example. They are a feature of many fiestas, as of course are the devils and the demons; just that at Sant Antoni, they go really overboard with the demons - and the fire. Especially in Sa Pobla, where they also endanger life by offering the local eel speciality. It is, though, hard to imagine that anything like the fire run could occur in the UK. Or anything like the fires in the streets of the towns. The police might now be worrying about too may people and some crushing, but few are concerned that there could be some third-degree burns. To be fair, they do issue warnings as to what to wear and what not to wear when the fire runs are on and when the demons are brandishing their torches about, but warnings would not be enough in the UK. No possible way. The whole thing would have been banned years ago. As also would have been the climb up the greasy pine tree in Pollensa.
When it comes to humans, there isn't quite the urge to get banning here as there is with animals (except for bulls of course). They can do something ridiculous, such as stopping the tossing of live ducks into the sea in Can Picafort, but they still let bulls be slaughtered and let humans dice with being burnt alive. Personally, I'm all for it. Not people being burnt alive, but the absence of the control freakery of a health-and-safety-ist mentality. However, were someone to be badly injured, I just wonder what would happen. I know full well what would happen in the UK. But here? It would be no good saying that there were warnings and advice as to what to wear and so on. A town hall puts on a do in which lit torches are waved around in front of thousands of people. Someone cops for some bad burns - or worse - and you're telling me that a competent compensation lawyer wouldn't hammer the relevant town hall. I hope it doesn't happen.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - REM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cWqC6WZ_0Y). Today's title - only a B-side, but still very well known. And they were (are)?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
One of the biggest, if not the biggest, Sant Antoni gig is that of Sa Pobla. Quite why Sa Pobla has assumed such a status I'm unsure. Maybe someone can enlighten me. But big-time devil time status it has got. The "Nit Bruixa" or "Noche Bruja" (witch night) has become that major a do that the police this year will be limiting the numbers entering the main square in the town. They will be manning all entrances, and when the square gets full they'll stop more people coming in. This is a rare display of local health and safety it seems to me. But more of that in a bit.
The Sa Pobla event has now also spawned its own sort of pre-gig rehearsal. On Saturday, there was a fire run. Either a rehearsal or they just couldn't wait - they were that excited. Mind you, having these rehearsals is becoming a Spanish thing. In Madrid, the celebrations for new year occurred not only on New Year's Eve but also on the night before. Will this be happening with other fiestas and celebrations? Can we expect, for instance, that the flotilla of boats and the fireworks of Sant Pere in Puerto Alcúdia will now take place on both the 28th and the 29th of June?
But to come back to that practice fire run and to health and safety. Many of you who are here in the summer might have been to a fire run during the fiesta weeks. Can Picafort has one, for example. They are a feature of many fiestas, as of course are the devils and the demons; just that at Sant Antoni, they go really overboard with the demons - and the fire. Especially in Sa Pobla, where they also endanger life by offering the local eel speciality. It is, though, hard to imagine that anything like the fire run could occur in the UK. Or anything like the fires in the streets of the towns. The police might now be worrying about too may people and some crushing, but few are concerned that there could be some third-degree burns. To be fair, they do issue warnings as to what to wear and what not to wear when the fire runs are on and when the demons are brandishing their torches about, but warnings would not be enough in the UK. No possible way. The whole thing would have been banned years ago. As also would have been the climb up the greasy pine tree in Pollensa.
When it comes to humans, there isn't quite the urge to get banning here as there is with animals (except for bulls of course). They can do something ridiculous, such as stopping the tossing of live ducks into the sea in Can Picafort, but they still let bulls be slaughtered and let humans dice with being burnt alive. Personally, I'm all for it. Not people being burnt alive, but the absence of the control freakery of a health-and-safety-ist mentality. However, were someone to be badly injured, I just wonder what would happen. I know full well what would happen in the UK. But here? It would be no good saying that there were warnings and advice as to what to wear and so on. A town hall puts on a do in which lit torches are waved around in front of thousands of people. Someone cops for some bad burns - or worse - and you're telling me that a competent compensation lawyer wouldn't hammer the relevant town hall. I hope it doesn't happen.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - REM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cWqC6WZ_0Y). Today's title - only a B-side, but still very well known. And they were (are)?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
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