Muyeres
Sonia takes a seat, center stage. She holds a kind of rustic fiddle that has been played across Spain since medieval times, and is known in Asturias as the bandurria. Drawing the bow across the strings she beings to sing. Suddenly, in the school hall where the rehearsal takes place, there is nothing but her voice. Behind her, in their traditional costumes – all felt, cotton, wool, wood and leather – stand the other twenty-three members of the Colectivu Muyeres, the Asturian traditional music association, but it is as if they have melted into the air. Sonia’s ethereal voice transports the tiny audience from the hall, into a world that is green, rural and remote but – thanks to the Colectivu Muyeres – not forgotten.
This is the Asturias of times gone by, in which which women were the guardians of culture, singing while they worked in the home or the fields, while they taught children to play, rocked the baby or marked family celebrations, accompanied by makeshift percussion – two spoons or a frying pan. Simple, heartfelt and profoundly moving. “Muyeres was founded twenty years ago to raise awareness of traditional Asturian music, as passed from one generation to the next by women, and to reclaim their role as the guardians of culture,” explains Mavisa, another member of the group, when we return to the 20th century.
The project began when a group of Asturian women came together to record an album of traditional music, entitled Muyeres. The group was formalized as an association, and went on to record three more song collections, in the process saving more than 200 songs for posterity. Their first show, Ainda Suenen, ‘they can still be heard’ – a ninety-minute journey through emotions and human experience – happiness, love, work, spirituality and ceremony – was a huge success. At present they are preparing two new concerts: Muyeres en concierto, twenty years performing in Asturias, and Asturies 1952.
On the stage, Mari Luz sings. ‘Siempre sola, siempre sola.’ Alone, always alone. Perhaps it’s the simplicity and vulnerability of the lyric, and its contrast with the confident presence of the singer, but for a second, I’m struck by the dedication of these lawyers, doctors, historians, music teachers, professional singers and housewives. Busy women with families, who find time to rehearse, to record albums and perform. To bring their culture to a wider audience, and preserve its memory. In the final piece, in a playful gesture that mixes innocence and cheekiness, the performers briefly hoist their petticoats, showing the bow that holds up their stockings: as we applaud, it’s impossible not to smile.