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Questioning My Taste: Why I’m Conflicted Listening to Rosalía

I have always felt proud to grow up surrounded by the rich beauty of Spanish culture. As a dual citizen, I have had the excitement of two different lives, from the warmth and eccentricity of my Spanish side to the comfort and regularity of my British life. My core memories consist of dancing around the kitchen to Camarón de la Isla, hearing my mother belt out these wonderful flamenco melodies in the shower and sitting around the table at Christmas time, playing the spoons while my relatives sang out vallancicos. Flamenco has always been a beautiful constant in my existence; something that has been a constant too for my family coming from the south of Spain and Ceuta to the vibrancy of Madrid.

Flamenco is a music born from the depths of the gitano tradition and subculture, in the southern region of Andalusia. Like the blues and Celtic music, Flamenco was formed from the struggles of a marginalised community that used music to express this pain, making it an incredibly raw and passionate genre. Its history is complex and deeply entwined with the human experience; it brought communities together in song and dance and became a distinct emblem of southern Spanish culture. Prominent flamenco luminaries include Paco de Lucia, Carmen Linares, Camarón de la Isla, Tomatito, Israel Fernández and Estrella Morente to name a few. The music itself has developed over time but has remained true to the harmonic and modal parameters that were formed through its Indian, Middle Eastern and Moorish heritage. The cultural importance of the flamenco genre for many families in Spain (like mine) cannot be underestimated, which is why the popularisation of flamenco by musicians like Rosalía can be quite damaging to the music and its meaning.

When I first heard Rosalía’s 2018 album El Mal Querer, I was in awe. It instantly became my favourite album; I listened to each track over 100 times, memorising the words and obsessively watching the videos. I couldn’t believe that flamenco had made it into the mainstream and onto the charts in a country other than Spain… It truly was an exciting prospect for the music itself, growing into something new to be respected on a global scale. But as Rosalía’s career grew and developed into what it is today, so did the criticism around her. Many of those from the Andalusian region began to question how a girl from Barcelona was releasing the most successful flamenco album of the year, with the cultural appreciation vs appropriation debate becoming more of a hot topic when discussing Rosalía. Though she studied flamenco music and culture in a university setting, her use of the music as a trademark to increase her popularity became a huge issue for many of those from the gitano communities in Spain. The imagery in her videos seems out of touch with the values and realities of the gitano community; Noelia Cortes tweeted: ‘From your privileged race and background you can dress as though you were from a poor, marginalized district without having experience of the suffering of those who do live in those circumstances.’

It wasn't just her appropriation of the gitano community that garnered criticism, but of the Latin community as well. Rosalía stated in an interview: ‘If Latin music is made in Spanish, then my music is part of Latin music’, which seems incredibly ignorant, particularly considering the horrific history of colonisation in South America. Her most recent album Motomami (2022) takes inspiration from various musical cultures; from the originally Columbian styles of champeta to reggaeton and even references to Japanese culture, with song titles like ‘HENTAI’ and ‘SAKURA’. Many have interrogated whether Rosalía is toeing the line between cultural appreciation and appropriation. However, if a musician excessively borrows features from various musical cultures to build a money-making aesthetic and musical persona, then their career will continue to be questioned.

I guess it seems the representation felt by many Spanish girls when listening to Rosalía’s flamenco is perhaps, in itself, false. It once again comes down to that whole artist vs the music debate, which seems to repeatedly crop up when you find out your favourite musician isn’t who you thought they were.