MURCIA--BLAS
Spain is the true home of the guitar. Only in Spain is the guitar--the
most complete of solo instruments--heard in its true perfection. But
even in Spain the cult of the guitar is dying out. Nowadays, at
marriages, births or christenings the guitar is no longer inevitable,
for the cheap German piano and the gramophone are ousting the national
instrument. Jan had become enamoured of the guitar in Paris, some small
progress he had made with the help of a friend; but one cannot get the
true spirit of Spanish music at second hand. So Blas, the gipsy, was
called in to given him instruction.
We had been told not to give Blas more than twenty pesetas a month,
these to be full payment for a daily lesson. However, Blas proved to be
more adept at bargaining than we were. He looked very Egyptian in the
face, was very smart in a grey check suit, patent leather boots and
straw hat, a strange contrast to the poverty of his home and the
slatterns of women who were his family and relations. He came in rubbing
his hands together, grinning with an expanse of strong, white teeth, and
showing a sly expression in his curious eyes. He cringed to us.
He demanded two pesetas a lesson, or sixty pesetas a month. We held out
that we had been told to offer him twenty. This, he answered, was
impossible, quite impossible, out of the question. Some of his
subserviency was immediately put into his pocket. Jan said that as he
would be painting a good deal he would not want more than three lessons
a week. Blas hummed and hawed and chewed the idea for a while. Then,
with the air of one who is making a great concession, he said that since
it was the Señor and since he appeared "muy sympatico" he would consent
to take twenty-five pesetas, and that was his final offer. Jan agreed.
Blas then added that he was reducing his terms solely because of the
sympathetic nature of the Señor, and that he was by no means satisfied
with the bargain, and that it was "muy poco." He then asked Jan if he
had a guitar. Jan said that he was using the big white instrument made
by Ramirez which our friend had left in his house. Blas answered that he
possessed the brother of that instrument himself, and that it was a good
one.
Only after he had gone did we realize that three lessons a week meant
twelve lessons a month, and, at his original price, this would have
amounted to twenty-four pesetas, and that Bias had wheedled out a peseta
more than his original offer.
We do not like the bargaining system which is prevalent all over Spain,
a habit from which, in spite of their stern notices, the "precio fijo"
shops are not quite exempt. We are not registering this objection
because Blas cozened us of a peseta; but it seems to us that the whole
habit of chaffering inculcates a lack of generosity and lays a
foundation of unfriendly relationships between people. No matter upon
what friendly terms the bargaining is carried out, too much of an
element of positive personal competition is brought in; but much
bargaining is not carried on in a friendly way. It also necessitates a
wholesale campaign of lying--appreciative and depreciative--on the part
of both buyer and seller, and a certain amount of personal feeling on
the side of the loser. Nor does the constant simulation of anger tend to
make a person more pacific by habit. Curiously enough the most generous
man is often the worst treated by the bargaining system. He offers a
sum in excess of the real value in order to shorten the ordeal, and by
doing so only excites the seller to greater cupidity. We have noted that
the successful bargainer is treated with respect, while the other who
cuts short the bargain by paying too much earns contempt.
Blas came to our house at about twelve o'clock. He was a true musician
and lived--as far as we could discover--for but two things, music and
drink. He had seemed to understand our Spanish well enough to get the
better of the bargain, but he had forgotten this. He, like the maid, had
a fixed idea that Jan could not speak Spanish. He grinned, and made
strange noises, but never tried to explain anything by means of words.
One cannot say that he was a good teacher. All that he could do was to
play a piece over and over again, and trust you to get it by ear. Now
and again he would grasp Jan's fingers and try to force them into the
necessary positions. He was even incapable of playing his tunes slowly.
If Jan wished to analyse a movement which came in the middle of a melody
Blas had to begin at the beginning. Sometimes Jan was almost in despair,
but he worked hard and in the end drew a profit out of Blas's inadequate
instruction.
Spanish guitar music is unlike the music of Europe. It has a strange
primitive character depending for its marvellous rhythmic properties
upon a rhythm of phrase more than upon the rhythm of the bar division.
The form is simple, a passage played with the back of the nails across
the strings, called the "Rasgueado," a passage like a refrain or chorus,
"the Paseo," in reality the introduction of the dance or melody, and the
melodies proper called "Falsetas." The rhythmic structure which does not
correspond to the bar division of the music is usually emphasized by
drum taps made upon the sound board of the guitar with the nail of the
second finger.
Blas considered it his duty to teach Jan two falsetas on each visit.
[Illustration]
But if he was a bad teacher, he was a fine player. Resting his chin on
the great guitar as if the passage of the vibrations through his body
were a source of pleasure, he crouched, looking like something between a
bullfrog and a Cheshire cat.
Then with supple fingers he played, drawing delicious melodies; or
rasping with his nails he beat out complex harmonies that seemed to vie
with an orchestra in richness of sound.
When he came to a falseta, he would throw up his negroid eyes like a
Greco saint, he would kiss his hand, and, as likely as not, spit on the
floor to emphasize his delight.
Before he left the house he always tried to get an advance upon his
salary. After all, to him we were only _Busné_ to be fleeced if
possible. But when his indebtedness amounted to the whole of his month's
pay we fended him off by saying that we had no change.
I do not think we realized how much we were overpaying Blas until we
decided to leave Murcia. We found a house, as you will hear, at Verdolay
about five miles away. When he heard that we were leaving, Blas
volunteered to come out as usual for the same pay. He said that he would
cheerfully walk the distance--ten miles--for that money. But we were
getting rather shy of Blas. He was too persistent a borrower for our
slender means and we had heard of other teachers who were cheaper. So we
took this opportunity and dropped him as a pilot to the guitar.