Some time ago, a headline in the cultural pages of Spain\u2019s El Pa\u00eds<\/i> newspaper caught my eye. The flamenco dancer Sara Baras, it was reported, had been a \u201ctriumph\u201d at a recent performance in Paris. How odd, I thought, that such a thing should be newsworthy; surely to be considered a success, a flamenco artist had to stun audiences in Jerez or Seville\u2014home of true aficionados\u2014rather than a northern European city.<\/span><\/p>\n The story highlighted a general Spanish tendency in which homegrown talent\u2014in any field\u2014often has to succeed abroad first before it can be recognized back home. \u201cNo one is a prophet in their home country,\u201d as the local proverb has it, and well-known Spaniards from Picasso to Formula One driver Fernando Alonso and classical ballerina Tamara Rojo are all examples of this bias.<\/p>\n Success is, in addition, a double-edged sword. Become too successful and the same tongues which once dealt out so much praise can be employed to lash out with bitter criticism. And no artistic community is more prone to back-biting than the world of flamenco, not least due to its rumbling internal battle between \u201cconservatives\u201d and \u201cprogressives,\u201d traditionalists and experimenters. Witness some of the comments directed recently toward the young Catalan singer Rosalia (whose wonderful album, Los Angeles<\/i>, I urge everyone to listen to, by the way.)<\/span><\/p>\n A tocaor<\/i> who received more than his fair share of opprobrium from purists was Born in Madrid in 1903 to Gypsy parents, Montoya was taught the basics of guitar by his mother after his father died. A teacher (Pepe el Barbero) was eventually found for the young boy, but within a short time Montoya had outgrown him and needed new tuition. His uncle was the well- known guitarist Ram\u00f3n Montoya. Ram\u00f3n refused to give his nephew actual lessons, claiming he was too busy teaching his own son, but did agree to take Carlos with him on tour so he could pick things up along the way. This became the young player\u2019s apprenticeship, and by the age of 14 he was accompanying professional bailaores<\/i> and cantaores<\/i> on Madrid stages.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nCarlos Montoya (1904\u20131993), one of the most celebrated flamenco guitarists\u2014outside Spain. It is possible that the first time many readers of this column heard flamenco guitar was when listening to a recording of Montoya. Certainly, I have fond memories from my own teenage years of playing a battered old cassette of his, and being captivated. Before Paco de Luc\u00eda, no one did more to export flamenco guitar to the rest of the world\u2014particularly the U.S., which became Montoya\u2019s home following the outbreak of WWII. Yet his dissemination of flamenco came at some considerable cost to his reputation among other flamenco performers\u2014perhaps not unfairly.<\/span><\/p>\n