13-21.4.2014
The Semana Santa is the particularly Spanish way of
celebrating Holy Week. The processions, which commemorate the
passion of Christ, originate in the Middle Ages, and they feel like it. Everyone
should come here and experience the marvel and mystery of Semana Santa at least
once.
The basics (penitents, anonymous in medieval robes,
carrying or rolling wooden platforms called pasos bearing statues of the saints
and Christ through the streets) mostly are the same in all regions, but beyond
that, there can be great variation. They are grander in the south – with the
biggest of all in Andalusia – with marching bands and drum corps, and nearly silent in parts of Castile and León, for
example. However, I greatly enjoyed the scale and style of the processions in
Avilés. They were intimate and moving, and I felt transported to a different
age and world.
It also was a great family week. I attended the Palm
Sunday procession with cousin Antonio, and all but one of the others (there was
at least one each day from Palm Sunday through Saturday, and multiple
processions on some days) with cousin Marina and differing combinations of her
husband Arturo, their daughter Sari and her husband Tomás, their children Alejandro
and María, and the parents of Tomás, Tomás and María. (I have not determined
whether it makes it easier or more difficult to remember people’s names when so
many share them.)
The processions are organized by fraternal organizations
called cofradías and hermandades, the popularity and formal establishment of
which have fluctuated with pro- or anti-clerical political attitudes over the
centuries. They flourished during the Counter Reformation in the last half of
the 16th century and the first half of the 17th, for example, but languished in
the mid-19th and early-20th centuries, and then thrived again in the 1940s.
Most of the penitents wear distinctive medieval
penitential garments called nazarenos (wrist- and ankle-length tunics, often
with a cape, and tall conical hats called capirotes which include fabric that
falls over the shoulders and covers the face, with only holes for the eyes).
Some also process in bare feet as a sign of their devotion. Each cofradía has a
particular color or color combination for their nazarenos and a particular
heraldic symbol, which is embroidered on a banner carried before the procession
and often on the mask of the capirotes, as well as on the staffs carried by
some members of the procession.
Currently, there are nine cofradías and hermandades in Avilés.
Enough introduction!
DOMINGO DE RAMOS (Palm Sunday)
Procesión
de La Borriquilla
Cofradía
de Nuestro Padre Jesús de la Esperanza y la Orden Franciscana Seglar.
On Calle San Francisco, facing San Nicolás de Bari Church
– a major procession route – with banners marking past Semana Santa
processions.
You can’t have Palm Sunday without palms, and they weave
them into all sorts of elaborate creations, from a few inches long to a couple
feet. Vendors in Plaza de Camposagrado.
I attended two blessings of the palms and ramos (laurel
branches, which people from the countryside were selling from great piles on the
squares and corners in the old town. Somewhere, there are some sparsely-clad
laurel bushes). The first was at San Nicolás de Bari Church.
After the blessing at the side portal of the church, the
priests led a procession of parishioners around the Plaza de Álvarez Acebal…
Video of the procession.
…and then into the church through the 17th-century
portico entrance.
Shortly later, I met Antonio (unplanned – as I was buying
ramos, he came strolling up and said, “I thought I could find you here”) on
Calle La Ferrería at the Franciscan Brothers Church (which dates from the late
12th and early 13th centuries and is the oldest structure in the city) for the
blessing and the first procession, La Borriquilla, marking Christ’s entry to
Jerusalem.
The blessing.
Waiting for the procession to start.
And it begins.
Video of the procession.
I stayed at the Franciscan Brothers Church for the mass.
It took about an hour for the procession to return, and they came right into
the church with the paso before the mass began.
My palm and ramos.
LUNES SANTO (Holy Monday)
Cofradía
de Nuestro Padre Jesús de la Esperanza
Again, this procession began at the Franciscan Brothers
Church. It was small and sparsely attended, compared to Palm Sunday. But as I
came to see, each day, the processions and crowds grew bigger and bigger. This
was the only one I watched alone.
The emblem of the cofradía.
The church at the end of the procession. No video for this one. I had stationed myself in a great spot in the Plaza de Camposagrado as they returned, and pushed the wrong button on the camera. But it was lovely!
MARTES SANTO (Holy Tuesday)
Procesión
de San Pedro
Cofradía
del Santísimo Cristo de Rivero y San Pedro Apóstol
The Capilla de Rivero, where this procession began, is in
my street, about 100 yards from my apartment. I wandered down there in the
afternoon, a couple hours before the procession began. Along the street – Calle
Rivero – many people had put out banners with the symbol of the cofradía.
When I got to the chapel, the members of the cofradía were
preparing the pasos of St. Peter and the flogging of Christ.
A third paso, with the emblem of the cofradía.
St. Peter.
The procession begins.
Video of the procession. (Not great video footage, but it gives a sense of the procession. And my videography improves a bit through the week.)
MIÉRCOLES SANTO (Holy Wednesday)
Procesión
del Santo Encuentro
Cofradía
de Nuestro Padre Jesús de Galiana, Cofradía de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores y
Cofradía de San Juan Evangelista
Marina’s grandson Alejandro said that this was the most
beautiful of the processions, and his assessment is difficult to dispute. It is
an “encuentro” because the three processions begin separately, meet in the
Plaza de España, and then process on together. Eventually, they return to Plaza
de España (up what I did not appreciate, until then, is a sizeable incline on
Calle La Cámera) and to San Nicolás de Bari Church, where they then say a
late-night novena.
Nuestra Señora de los Dolores was the first to go.
The processions are not just for adults. Many children
who participated, some not much bigger than toddlers (and one baby – not in a
nazereno – being carried in the arms of his tunic-and-capirote-clad father,
which was a touching sight).
Nuestra Señora de los Dolores was the first carried paso
I saw. I have no idea how they manage to heft it so far. There are 24
penitents, and the staffs they carry with the U-shaped crook at top is for
holding the paso when they take short rests along the way. When they are walking,
they smack the poles rhythmically against the pavement with the drums. The
flowers on the pasos all are fresh, by the way, and replaced throughout the
week by the members of the cofradía as they wilt.
Video of Nuestra Señora de los Dolores (from later in the
night, as they returned to Plaza de España).
Nuestro Padre Jesús de Galiana processed next, following
Nuestra Señora de los Dolores down Calle San Francisco.
Video of Nuestro Padre Jesús de Galiana.
Then came San Juan Evangelista. It is the biggest and
most hard-core of the Avilés cofradías. It is the only all-male cofradía, and
the members only can be up to age 33. Most of them processed without shoes, and
the penitents carrying the paso marched in an exaggerated swooping stride. They
have a testosterone-fueled military-fraternity air about them. It was an
impressive sight, especially as they made the final push up Calle La Cámera
later in the night. The crowd lining the street applauded as they came, and
Alejandro – who processed with San Juan for the past 10 years, but not this
year because he is too busy with his first year of university study – shouted
“Viva San Juan!” as the paso went by us.
Video of San Juan Evangelista.
JUEVES SANTO (Maundy Thursday)
Procesión
de El Beso de Judas
Hermandad
El Beso de Judas
Procesión
del Silencio
Cofradía
de San Juan Evangelista
The waiters and I were about the only people working in the
city on Thursday as the Semana Santa holiday began in earnest. From where I was
working (at the café La Botica Indiana, because the library, where I usually
work, was closed for the fiesta), at about 1pm, I heard the drums beating out
in Plaza de España. It was Beso de Judas, which began its procession at 12:30.
I dashed out and saw the paso pass, but took no photos, and then went back to
work. It was odd to see one going by in the middle of the day.
The evening procession left again from San Nicolás de
Bari, but we were all exhausted from the exhilaration and late night of Miércoles
Santo. I met Marina, Arturo, Sari and Tomás for a coffee, then we watched the
procession begin, and called it a day.
Marina and Arturo brought me one of the traditional Avilés
Semana Santa cakes, called el bollo (which also is the name of the Easter
weekend cultural festival here). They brought, mercifully for my waistline,
only the smallest of the usual three-layers of the cake. And it was delicious.
VIERNES SANTO (Good Friday)
Procesión
del Santísimo Cristo de la Verdad y la Vida
Cofradía
del Santísimo Cristo de la Verdad y la Vida
Procesión
del Santo Entierro
Eight
of the nine cofradías and hermandades
Procesión
de la Virgen de la Soledad
Real
Cofradía de Nuestra Señora de la Soledad y de la Santa Vera Cruz
Cofradía de Santísimo Cristo de la Verdad y la Vida
processed at a quarter after midnight. I missed that one.
I did not realize, until I headed off toward San Nicolás
de Bari at 5pm to meet Marina and the crew, that Friday’s evening processions
were the grand desfile, when the seven cofradías which had sallied forth during
the week – plus the Hermandad del Santo Entierro y Nuestro Señora del Gran
Dolor – all went again in one long, beautiful procession.
The pasos of Santo Entierro, San Juan Evangelista, and
this crucifix carried by San Juan Evangelista (prone, with the Christ removed)
were placed in the 17th-century portico of San Nicolás de Bari for the
benediction before the procession.
The paso of San Juan.
Beso de Judas. I was pleased to have the chance to see
them again…
…particularly because Marina’s granddaughter María walks
in this procession. This is her. Their staffs have a bag of 30 pieces of silver
tied to the top.
The cofradías which were not already in the portico or on
Calle San Francisco in front of the church processed in before the benediction.
The arrival of Santísimo Cristo de la Verdad y la Vida.
Video of the arrival of San Pedro.
Watching from the miradores on Calle San Francisco.
San Pedro penitents during the benediction.
Nuestra Señora de los Dolores penitents during the benediction.
Nuestra Señora de los Dolores preparing to depart after
the benediction. The carried pasos have this brass bell on front which one of
the senior penitents rings to signal when they should rest and resume walking.
San Pedro departing.
Video of San Pedro departing.
Jesús de Galiana departing.
Bringing San Juan down from the portico of San Nicolás de
Bari.
Los San Janitos, ready to go.
The San Juan paso is adorned with panels carved with the
Stations of the Cross.
The nails from the cross.
Beso de Judas processing up Calle La Cámara.
Santo Entierro processing up Calle La Cámara.
Waiting for the arrival of Nuestra Señora de los Dolores
in Plaza de Álvarez Acebal. The paso of San Juan is near the center of the
photo, in front of the church portal. When Dolores arrived, the penitents
lifted her above their heads and then the penitents of San Juan “danced” their
paso in honor of Dolores. It was quite a sight, and one you will have to come
to Avilés to see, because I did not make a video.
After the end of the desfile, we took a one-hour rest,
and then met again for the final procession of the day, Nuestra Señora de la
Soledad y de la Santa Vera Cruz, which Marina’s husband Arturo said is his
favorite and the most beautiful. It certainly was sublime, and completely
different than the others. It processed from the big church, San Tomás de
Canturbury, eventually making its way to Plaza de Carbayo in Sabugo – which was
the medieval fisherman’s village outside the Avilés city walls – where a choir
sang a Salve Regina. It, and we, then returned to San Tomás de Canturbury,
where the priest and the people gathered prayed a novena.
La Virgen de la Soledad.
Video of the processions in Sabugo. Santa Vera Cruz
followed by la Virgen de la Soledad.
PASCUA (Easter Sunday)
The Semana Santa processions over, the festival of El
Bollo begins in earnest. It was founded in 1893, and is a celebration of
Asturian culture.
There is a parade, called la carroza, and most of the
children – and not a few adults – don traditional Asturian dress for the day.
There is an El Bollo queen and her court, and the festivities began with
presentations and speeches in the Plaza de España. The keynote speaker was
Beatriz Lodge, a woman from the US who was the El Bollo queen in 1957. Her
father was the US ambassador to Spain, and in 1924 he led a US delegation to Avilés
for the reinterment of the remains of Pedro Menéndez (who founded of St.
Augustine, Florida, in 1565) from Santander, where he died, to his parish
church – now the Franciscan Brothers’ Church – in Avilés. It was an important
moment, for the US and Spain, and for St. Augustine and Avilés. Relations
between the two countries had been strained for a quarter-century, since the
Spanish-American War, and the two cities of Pedro Menéndez began a close
relationship which still continues.
Beatriz Lodge spoke at length about her personal ties to Avilés
and Spain (she ended up marrying a Spanish man and having six children). Cousin
Antonio, who was 12 in 1957, recalled that the city was abuzz that this young
woman from the US came to serve as the El Bollo queen.
After Lodge and the politicos all finished talking, the
parade got underway. It began with bagpipes, and the playing of Patria Querida,
the hymn of Asturias.
Video of the pipers
A presentation of horse- and ox-drawn carriages and
wagons followed the pipers, with enthusiastic participation by children in
traditional dress. The two-wheeled carts were made here and were the style most
frequently-used on the farms of Asturias. The phaeton in the last photo
belonged to a family in Avilés, but it was built in Cincinnati, Ohio.
The gigantes.
The Palacio de Ferrera, with the banners of the Semana
Santa cofradías and hermandades displayed on the balconies.
People watching the carrozo from their windows on Plaza
de España.
The streets all along the carroza route were packed.
Gigante on Calle La Cámera.
One of the local traditional bands in the carrozo, on Calle José Cueto.
Video of the pipers.
Un pequeño asturiano.
That evening, they again erected the big concert stage in
Plaza de España for a public concert. Where they set it up is about 50 yards
from my bedroom.
Fortunately, they wrapped up at about midnight. On
Saturday night, they went until after 3am.
LUNES DE PASCUA (Easter Monday)
El Bollo continues through Monday, culminating in the
Comida en la Calle, when tables are set up through the streets of the old town,
and people spend all afternoon feasting al fresco. Its formal, current
incarnation (for which it is necessary to reserve a seat at the municipal hall
months in advance to get one of the 15,000 seats at a table) dates back about
30 years and was the idea of the municipal counselor for culture. However,
during the 19th century – when the grand parks of Meanas and Muelle were
constructed – and first decades of the 20th, it was popular for residents of
the countryside and villages to come to the city for major holidays and while
away part of the day eating in the parks. Cousin Marina told me that every Easter
Sunday, when she was a child, her father would bring her and her mother from
Las Cepas to spend the day in town, and they would lounge in the park, enjoying
an empanada, as part of the excursion.
Before the feasting began, I meandered around looking at
the preparations…
…in Plaza de España…
…in Calle Rivero, directly in front of my building…
…in Calle San Francisco…
…in Calle Galiana…
…in Plaza de Álvarez Acebal…
…and in Plaza de Carbayedo.
This is how you prepare fabada asturiana for thousands of
people.
However, I did not eat in the street. This day also was the 93rd birthday of “el jefe del clan” Manuel González
Cueto (Mary Edgar’s first cousin), and Antonio, who is his son, invited me to go with them (Manuel, his wife África, their daughter Isabel, their other son Manuel and his wife Pilar) to an excellent Asturian restaurant in the countryside to celebrate. Manuel with his birthday cake and
“candle”.
When I returned after our very nice afternoon, the
cleanup had begun.
For the three days of El Bollo, there also was huge
pottery market (mostly from the south of Spain, which is the brightly-colored
pottery with which people generally are familiar) in Plaza de Álvarez Acebal.
There also was a tent of Asturian artisans making a
variety of handcrafts using the same methods they have for centuries.
My favorite was the madreñeru, Ramiro Teston Rodríguez,
from the village of Sanmarin del Rei Aureliu. I watched him work for quite a
while, and it was astounding how deftly he turned a block of wood into a shoe.
(People still often wear these in the villages and farms, by the way.) He told
me (as I was paying for the pair I bought, for about $45) that he and his
brother make them completely by hand.
Video of Sr. Rodríguez carving.
The finished products.
My madreñas.
The day (and Semana Santa and El Bollo) ended with a wonderful choral concert at the Casa del Cultura, the 23rd annual Encuentro Coral de Habaneras, which celebrates Spanish and Spanish-American choral music. I attended with Antonio and Isabel. One of my daily library café coffee amigos, Juan, is one of the primary organizers of the choral event, a leader of the Polifonica Centro Asturiano de Avilés that co-sponsors it, and he sings in the choral group.
Here is a link to the program. (Juan painted the galleon on the promo poster.)
It was a week that I always will cherish.
