PLAZA de TOROS de LAS VENTA

Disclaimer 1: Please note that there are some images contained in this story that some may find confronting. 

Disclaimer 2: This experience is mine alone, and the comments are endorsed by me alone. Dulcinea holds strong personal feelings on the subject (as do I) and, whilst respecting my decision to experience the event, wishes it known that she does not endorse the content of this report.

Plaza de Toros Las Venta

This is, of course, the famous mudejan styled red brick and cermaic tiled bullring in Madrid that is home to bullfighting in Spain. This magnificent stadium was erected in 1931 and holds 25,000 people...and six bulls! The season runs from March to October, but during the Fiesta de San Isidro (patron saint of Madrid) which runs throughout May, bullfights are held every day of the week. Why am I mentioning all this? Well, during this year's Fiesta, Don Legsy decided it was time to experience one of Spain's most famous - and controversial - traditions, La Corrida (a bullfight).

Preparing for la corrida

Within Spain the future of bullfighting is a touchy subject, and has been banned in Catalonia (Barcelona's province). It's not for me to take the high ground, but I am keen to experience all the traditions of this fabulous country, and so off I went (alone). Whilst I neither condemn nor praise La Corrida, I can categorically state that it is extremely confronting. Las Venta was packed, and the crowds at the bar were 7-8 deep.

Full house

The true aficionados come out to watch in Madrid (and Seville), both male and female, and by and large are impeccably dressed; this is clearly'an occasion'. Apart from sartorial attire and a Mahou Red (beer) in each hand, it's immediately noticeable that there are no smoking restrictions; every second hombre has a cigar clenched between their teeth, and I swear some of the stogies they were puffing on were as big as my arm! The 'seats' are concrete and only 15cm wide, so you buy a soft leather cushion for €1.20 to ease the pain. The Tijuana Brass ensemble (minus Herb Alpert) are perched on their balcony and a fanfare opens proceedings - it is nothing like I expected.

The band didn't play 'Waltzing Matilda'

The paseillo (opening parade) of the toreros is fantastic, as they strut onto the arena and make their way to salute the dignitary in attendance (I thought it was me until I turned around and some some vaquero waving back!).

The grand entrance

 

I thought they were waving to me!

Everybody involved, and I mean everybody, enter the arena and there must be 30 or 40 people. The three matadores lead the procession out followed by their individual cuadrilla (2 picadores riding blindfolded horses with a protective peto, 3 banderillos, and a mozo de aspadas - sword page),

 the horses and handlers charged with the task of removing the expired beasts, and even the hombres who sweep the ring after each Faena (a 15 minute bullfight session).

Picadores ride blindfolded and heavily protected horses

The matadores are genuine peacocks, practicing their cape flourishes and strutting around in leotards 3 sizes too small; they look amazing - and they know it, they are the Spanish equivalent of a rock star. They are immediately distinguishable from the rest of their troupe by the gold braid on their Traje De Luces (suit of lights).

Warming up

Snug fit!

A singly bugle announces the bull for the first Faena (a fight in 3 parts). The biggest and baddest bulls are saved for Madrid, usually 4-6 years old and weighing a minimum 460kg!!

The first stage (tercio de varas) - el toro enters with steam coming out of his nostrils (like you see in so many cartoons) and proceeds to charge, head down, at any and every torero he can see; it's not for the faint-hearted and the wooden safety walls are there for good reason.

Once the matadore has sized el toro up, he uses a large pink backed cape to coerce the bull into passes as the crowd shout olé (they really do!), and believe it or not, it really is like watching the Paso Doble on the dance floor.

The second section, la suerte de varas, is without doubt the most riveting, and involves the picadores and banderillos. It quickly becomes apparent why the horses are blindfolded! The picadores are dressed like extras for Don Quixote, riding their steeds that have gold peto (mattress) protecting one side, and carrying a vara (lance). The picadore uses the lance to weaken the bull's neck muscles when it charges headlong into the side of the unsuspecting horse (aaah, the blindfold!). It is a very confronting sight to see half a ton of rampant beast literally broadside and lift a horse and rider into the air with the force of their charge.

 Interestingly, prior to La Venta opening in 1931, the horses wore no protection, and there were generally more horses than bulls killed during the fiesta. This is followed by the banderillos who are insane and have no cape, allowing the bull to charge at them, evading at the last second as they stick brightly coloured barbed sticks (banderillas) into the bull's back. The second stage is all about wearing him down and El Toro is slowing down significantly by now.

Finally, in the third section, the matadore receives the bull alone, save for his muleta (rather small red cape) and the sword he's craftily hiding behind it. (Footnote: The whole red cape thing is pure theatrics and in no way induces el toro to become enraged and charge - bulls are colour blind and, let's face it, if half a dozen hombres were poking and prodding you with sharp implements then wouldn't that be enough to provoke you into retaliating!).

 Needless to say, this is where the performance reaches its climax, as he coaxes the bull as close to himself as possible and he adopts all sorts of crazy artistic poses - you've seen the sterotypical famous posters and pics - before the final estocada is performed, when the sword pierces the bull's shoulder blades.

The crowd then judge the fight by consensus; tonight's fights all receive generous applause with only a few whistles (the last thing a matadore wants to hear are whistles and boos, or silence!). The public can also judge a bull to have been so brave as to spare its life - let me tell you, it didn't happen this night! Finally, the bull is rather unedifyingly dragged out of the arena by the horses adorned in all their finery; I guess there's no other way to do it.

I have to say that there was nothing like the amount of blood to be seen as I expected. The most overt showing is the smears on the protective horse blankets (the collateral damage to the poor caballo is, if anything, the most disturbing element f the whole performance). I was also surprised that when the end comes it is very quick - the 15 minutes of tormenting and cajoling leading up to the estocada is a totally different matter altogether. Supporters of La Corrida maintain that cruelty is not part of the equation, especially as the bulls are specifically bred for the bullring - that's a whole different discussion, and not for this report. I left with a strangely ambivalent feeling towards La Corrida. I didn't like nor dislike it, I wasn't repulsed nor was I filled with any degree of excitement. It is, to be sure, an unforgettable visual extravaganza that unfortunately leaves an animal lifeless on the ground, possibly another the worse for wear having half a ton of beef careen into its side, and occasionally (although not tonight) a torero in need of emergency medical assistance (outside the arena is a statue of Dr. Alexander Fleming, revered in Spain and by bullfighters for his discovery of penicillin, and the lives of toreros he has thus saved).

Toreros pay homage to Dr. Alexander Fleming

Was I glad to have gone? Absolutely! Will I go again? Highly doubtful. I'm no closer to understanding (or misunderstanding) a nation's passion, but I have seen it for myself and at the end of the day, it's for the Spanish people themselves to decide upon the future of their own cultural traditions. Is it sport? Is it entertainment? Is it still culturally valid? Is it barbaric? Is it popular? Is there room for it in the 21st Century? The questions just pile up, and this non-meat eater doesn't have the answers, just opinions (which he's keeping to himself!). Good luck to the politicians trying to sort it all out.

As a lighter aside, Las Venta has also been used for other events. It has intermittently held concerts, notable ones being Coldplay, Radiohead, Diana Ross (a matadore would have come in handy for that one!), as well as the mighty AC/DC (their live DVD "AC/DC No Bull!" was recorded there). And in 2008, it was converted into a clay court for the Davis Cup semi final when Spain (with Rafael Nadal) performed an estocada on the USA team - a more confronting tennis audience I cannot imagine!

I BLEW UP YOUR BODY...BUT YOU BLEW MY MIND!

I know you've immediately said to yourself "Aha, the pivotal line from 'Every Dream Home A Heartache', Roxy Music's paean to an inflatable doll". Last Thursday night at the fabulous La Riviera nightclub in the company of the lovely Viv and her husband David (they too went to The Stones and Tom), our week of 'classic rock' reached its climax with a steaming performance from Bryan Ferry. It was a brilliant, if flawed, 2 hour show that left Roxy Music devotees (i.e. moi) well satisfied but perhaps Bryan Ferrari fans less so.

La Riviera - complete with palm trees!

A couple of punters with a man size G&T

During the Roxy years, Ferry quite reasonably never performed his solo material. As a soloist, the separation no longer exists, and given he pretty much wrote all of Roxy's music then it seems logical that he now sings whatever he wants. There's no sign of Manzanera, Mackay or Thompson in the eight-piece band, but quite frankly, it's debatable whether their input would have lifted the bar any higher; Bryan clearly has no problem putting together a crack outfit (a la Tom last week). The suave one outdoes Jeff Beck when it comes to femme fatales; apart from Jodie Scantlebury and Bobbie Gordon, the regulation stunning backing singers, Ferry's band also features Cherisse Osei, a thunderous Amazonian drummer, and the very sultry Jorja Chalmers on sax, clarinet and keyboards; renowned for being surrounded by beauties, Bryan has outdone himself this time.

Jodie, Bobbie & El Ferrari

Jorja - sax appeal

As already mentioned, this is very much a trip down Roxy Music memory lane. The great man swaggers onstage in what appears to be a tuxedo made from grandma's lounge fabric as the band open with 'Re-Make/Re-Model'. By the end of the first song the dickie is undone and the chicas in the audience are blissfully swaying to 'Kiss And Tell'.

Where did he get that jacket!

There's a great cover of JJ Cale's 'Same Old Blues' before 'Slave To Love' gets every pelvis in the house gyrating - the man and the music reek sex appeal. The chorus of 'Oh Yeah' is the signal for the crowd to enter sing-along mode - "there's a band playing on the radio, with a rhythm of rhyming guitar"....magic, and he ends the set with a few real biggies, 'Both Ends Nurning', 'Love Is The Drug' and 'Virginia Plain'. The encore is brilliant as 'Let's Stick Together' segues into 'Editions Of You' before bringing the curtain down with 'Jealous Guy'.

So how was it flawed? Quite simply, the sound itself was dreadful, not the band but the acoustics of the venue and the sound mix. Powerful is not an adjective synonymous with Bryan Ferry's singing, if anything he's the antithesis of it - sensual, suave, smooth. Sadly, his vocals were too often drowned, not a problem for anyone familiar with the Roxy canon but problematic for those less so. It didn't detract from the night for me, but Dulcinea, although enjoying the show, struggled with it. Dulcinea, Viv and David begged to differ, but for me, it was the high point of the three concerts we've seen over the last week or so - only Bryan Ferry got me to sing along with him!

Footnote: You can, of course, tell fro the images that Don L again ventured out without his trusty Canon SLR!

Here's what Bryan Ferrari played:

Re-Make/Re-Model
Kiss And Tell
Ladytron
Same Old Blues
Slave To Love
If There Is Something
Stronger Through The Years
Oh Yeah
Tara
Take A Chance With Me
Reason Or Rhyme
More Than This
Avalon
In Every Dream Home A Heartache
Casanova
Both ends Burning
Love Is The Drug
Virginia Plain
Encore:
Let's Stick Together
Editions Of You
Jealous Guy

SEX BOMB DETONATED IN MADRID!

Last night he came, he saw a capacity 15,000 frenzied Madrilenos and, yes folks, he well and truly conquered. The Welsh Wonder, Senor Golden Tonsils, call him what you will, but at 74 years of age, TOM JONES is at the very height of his considerable vocal powers. Powered on by a crack nine-piece band featuring the dazzling guitar artistry of no less than Robbie McIntosh, he held the audience in the palms of his hands.

It always was about the sonic depth and range of his voice, and it was reassuring to hear him every note pitch perfect. Advancing years hasn't forced him to lower the register he sings in, nor does he shirk the big moments. The thing is, he's damned good - and he knows it, too! He coaxes and cajoles the audience - not as if a seething mass of Spaniards needs it - and he and the band are clearly having a ball as well.

When he sang "the biggies", he was almost able to take a back seat as the crowd joined in, and if the audience was by and large less familiar with his more recent work (which is some of the best of his career) it didn't downgrade the rapturous response. He opened, as he has done since 2010, with a thundering version of 'Burning Hell' from 2010's "Praise & Blame" album; it remains the purely musical high point of his 90 minute set.

Burning Hell!!

'Delilah' was, surprisingly, brilliantly arranged into a Tex-Mex tour-de-force, with accordian, handclap flourishes and stomping feet - yes, the chicos and chicas went bananas! 'Green Green Grass Of Home' was rendered beautifully (unlike that tacky cabaret rendition the last time I saw him), 'It's Not Unusual' was a showstopper and literally brought the house to its feet, and 'Thunderball' was tumultuous.

And he STRIKESSSS, like Thunderbaaawl!!

I don't mean to gush but, seriously, he was utterly superb delivering the smash hits....he didn't even raise a sweat hitting the big notes in 'Fall In Love Again'. My 2nd favourite musical moment of the night was a hellraising shakedown of Howlin' Wolf's 'Evil' - just brilliant.

Evil

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't perfection. Despite his two recent albums being the best of his career, the material selection isn't always right. Quite frankly, Tom Waits' 'Bad As Me' is ill fitting, and whilst the lyrics of 'Tower Of Song' could have been written for him, they weren't and he lacks the gravitas to carry off Leonard Cohen's masterpiece.

A nod to Leonard Cohen

He previewed three songs from his forthcoming album; two sounded pretty good but Hank Williams' 'Why Don't You Love Me' was simply the wrong choice - Tome Jones should NEVER sing C&W! But these are mere quibbles that in no way detracted from a sensational performance. His hair is no longer curly but a fuzzy grey mass with matching goatee, and he's not as lithe as he once was (but who is?), but Tom Jones is still in magnificent voice and delivers a show that is guarantee'd to leave you smiling broadly - you'd be crazy to miss him if he plays near you.

Footnote: Apologies for the pictures - I forgot my camera!