Warning - if you´re horrified by the bull fight you´d probably best skip this post. I thought I´d be horrified by the corrida, that is until I sat mesmerised by it. I couldn´t look away.
Corrida de toros - I hadn´t much though about the bull fight when we arrived in Spain. If I had, I think I would have thought it was an old form of entertainment, now mainly staged for tourists. Oh no! Incorrect, as I discovered after we arrived in Zafra, with its ancient bull ring.
The tradition of the corrida is still very alive. Here in Spain, many toreros are celebrities, much like Formula 1 drivers, or soccer players.
The corrida is a magnificent performance that I couldn´t take my eyes off. We know what happens to the poor bull - there´s no competition really - it´s a certainty. However every other aspect of the corrida had me spellbound.
Let's talk about the toreros! In their attire of peacock blue and gold, or lavender and silver, or red and gold - all colours really - but always tasselled and elaborate, and always with bright pink socks and pretty black ballet flats!
First of the toreros into the ring is the picdaor on his well-protected horse. His job is to lance the bull to determine the bull´s strength and range of movements. Bull successfully lanced and blood flowing from the back of its thick neck, next in the performance are the banderilleros whose job is to pierce pairs of flagged banderillo (long barbs) into the bull´s neck. They dip and dance around the bull trying to correctly place their banderillo. The assistant toreros are never far away, participating when necessary with their large pink capes with bright yellow lining. With sometimes six banderillos hanging from the bull´s neck it´s time for the master - the leader of the toreros. In English we call him the matador.
Most elaborately dressed of all (but still with bright pink socks and black ballet flats) the master torero executes his fine performance (pun intended). He takes to the centre of the bill ring, acknowledges the crowd and with an elegant toss of his head....throws down his pretty hat! His movements begin, they are ballet-like - one hand on hip, chin tucked in, back arched in a graceful curve, toe pointed. In the other hand is his small red cape which hides his sword.
Soon the bull is all blood, frustration and anger but still he charges the red cape with every movement. The bull lunges and bucks within millimeters of the torero´s shins and calves. Sometimes, amazingly, the maestro stands directly infront of the bull, as if he has it in a trance, and then.... another graceful pose and a flick of the red cape, and the bull lunges his horns again.
The torero simply steps, turns, avoids the beast and dramatically....throws his head back.
The crowd goes wild, cheering and waving their white kerchiefs in the air to show their appreciation of the performance. The music rises to a crescendo. Trumpets. I knew what was going to happen next, but still I gasped when it actually happened.
One quick, accurate lunge and thrust by the torero.
And it´s all over.
Until, that is, not long after when the flowers thrown from the balconies have been gathered and the next bull roars into the ring.
(With my apologies, the corrida is utterly mesmerising. And I can´t wait to see it again next weekend. Oh dear, I think señor is a bit worried!)
Photos to come. Maybe.
Corrida de toros - I hadn´t much though about the bull fight when we arrived in Spain. If I had, I think I would have thought it was an old form of entertainment, now mainly staged for tourists. Oh no! Incorrect, as I discovered after we arrived in Zafra, with its ancient bull ring.
The tradition of the corrida is still very alive. Here in Spain, many toreros are celebrities, much like Formula 1 drivers, or soccer players.
The corrida is a magnificent performance that I couldn´t take my eyes off. We know what happens to the poor bull - there´s no competition really - it´s a certainty. However every other aspect of the corrida had me spellbound.
Let's talk about the toreros! In their attire of peacock blue and gold, or lavender and silver, or red and gold - all colours really - but always tasselled and elaborate, and always with bright pink socks and pretty black ballet flats!
First of the toreros into the ring is the picdaor on his well-protected horse. His job is to lance the bull to determine the bull´s strength and range of movements. Bull successfully lanced and blood flowing from the back of its thick neck, next in the performance are the banderilleros whose job is to pierce pairs of flagged banderillo (long barbs) into the bull´s neck. They dip and dance around the bull trying to correctly place their banderillo. The assistant toreros are never far away, participating when necessary with their large pink capes with bright yellow lining. With sometimes six banderillos hanging from the bull´s neck it´s time for the master - the leader of the toreros. In English we call him the matador.
Most elaborately dressed of all (but still with bright pink socks and black ballet flats) the master torero executes his fine performance (pun intended). He takes to the centre of the bill ring, acknowledges the crowd and with an elegant toss of his head....throws down his pretty hat! His movements begin, they are ballet-like - one hand on hip, chin tucked in, back arched in a graceful curve, toe pointed. In the other hand is his small red cape which hides his sword.
Soon the bull is all blood, frustration and anger but still he charges the red cape with every movement. The bull lunges and bucks within millimeters of the torero´s shins and calves. Sometimes, amazingly, the maestro stands directly infront of the bull, as if he has it in a trance, and then.... another graceful pose and a flick of the red cape, and the bull lunges his horns again.
The torero simply steps, turns, avoids the beast and dramatically....throws his head back.
The crowd goes wild, cheering and waving their white kerchiefs in the air to show their appreciation of the performance. The music rises to a crescendo. Trumpets. I knew what was going to happen next, but still I gasped when it actually happened.
One quick, accurate lunge and thrust by the torero.
And it´s all over.
Until, that is, not long after when the flowers thrown from the balconies have been gathered and the next bull roars into the ring.
(With my apologies, the corrida is utterly mesmerising. And I can´t wait to see it again next weekend. Oh dear, I think señor is a bit worried!)
Photos to come. Maybe.
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| Plaza des toros - Zafra Buy your tickets to sit in either sol or sombra. |
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