The Pitiusan song that fights against folklorization

PalmThe song of the Sibil·la, the human towers, the mystery of Elche, the fallas of Valencia, the Patum of Berga, and other cultural manifestations of the Catalan-speaking lands are Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO. Notably absent from this list is the Pitiusan song. For the moment, the island's institutions have not taken the step of requesting its protection. Ibizan sociolinguist Bernat Joan has the explanation: "Here, traditional dance is a BIC (Asset of Cultural Interest). It has always been given more visibility because it is a much more innocuous manifestation. The song, on the other hand, is related to the language and, therefore, is a symbol of identity for a Catalan-speaking community."

Currently, one of the great revitalizers of Pitiusan song is Vicent Marí Serra, Palermet, 46 years old, a craftsman by trade, originally from San José de sa Talaia. "I," he says, "grew up listening to my family sing." grandparents. Today, for me, singing is like a kind of act of resistance in a land threatened by the most savage capitalism." The origins of the Pitiusa song date back to the times of the Catalan conquest in the 13th century. There are two styles: the glossed song and the redoubled song, which is the most characteristic and the one I prefer. It is never improvised and the meter is the same, long verses of 7 + 7 syllables. The only difference is the staging.

Like a sibyl

The redoubled song is so named for the guttural sound made at the end of each long verse. Some of its lyrics are satirical in content ('pointy' songs) through rhetorical figures that avoid explicit insults. Others narrate something tragic, a love story, or any personal event. The singer sits on a chair with a drum on his left knee, provided he is not left-handed. He holds the instrument with his elbow on the same side and his head with his hand. Having previously warmed up his voice with coughs and shortened his neck, he begins with a kind of lament, uttering a long "Aaaa...". The song is performed monotonously and to the rhythm of the drum played with the other hand. It is a liturgy reminiscent of that of the sibyls of the oracles of the classical world, who uttered their cryptic messages in a state of ecstasy. "When holding their head," Palermet points out, "the singer also covers their eyes or closes them, often with the help of a handkerchief. This helps them concentrate better and avoid being embarrassed in front of the audience or laughing at their reaction."

In the past, redoubled songs were performed by a group of singers, which could number up to twenty, men and women, single and married. There were two types of singing: public ones, held in the courtyard of a café or in some corner of the church square, and those organized in private homes after dinner in the presence of neighbors invited by the host. These were usually held on the occasion of an important celebration such as Christmas, Easter Sunday, or a day of slaughter. They were eagerly awaited evenings that could last eight hours, until daybreak. Seated next to each other in a closed roll, each performer sang a song; when they finished, they passed the drum to the next, and so on. Participants who knew how to sing could also participate.

"Each piece," the activist says, "could last a quarter of an hour. The singers knew them by heart at a time when many people were illiterate. The rhythms helped them remember everything they had to recite. It's, therefore, a tradition that connects with the oral beginnings." They had to be very attentive. "It was common for men and women to dedicate heartbreaking songs to each other. To be able to respond, at least each one had to know at least 25 songs. During field work, people sang not only to pass the time, but also to review and study the repertoire that was later reproduced in the songs."

UC

During the Franco regime, redoubled singing was banished. "The dictatorship," Palermet affirms, "forbade all gatherings, and fear meant there was little desire to celebrate. The same thing happened with dancing." Both manifestations began to recover from the 1950s under the auspices of the Falangist organization Choirs and Dances. However, it was to promote the folklorization of "autonomous" culture as part of Spain's cultural wealth. "Later, in exhibitions for tourists, Choirs and Dances brought together dancers and singers for the first time, when the two had never performed together before." Outside of these performances, which were paid for, singing gradually fell into oblivion. "In the 1960s, before the emergence of nightclubs, it had competition from guatecas, gatherings of young people in houses with record players that allowed them to dance to the tunes of figures such as Manolo Escobar."

In 1973, two years before Franco's death, the Pitiusa song emerged from ostracism with the help of the musical group UC, formed by Isidor Marí, Joan Marí Murenu and Víctor Planells. The three friends set out to rescue folk songs based on interviews with farmers and also using material recorded on the radio program. Our fieldThat work of musical archaeology served to dignify an ancestral culture that was being wasted by the movement hippie and mass tourism. The lyrics of the song are revealing enough. On this very poor island (1976): "On this poor island / those who govern it / cut wherever they want / and keep the best part for themselves; / and in Madrid they throw big parties / with the money raised: / it's all cars and floats, / deputies and generals, / and whoever is born poor, may they die / without a day of rest."

Other popular songs that were revived by UC, although with different melodies, are We went to San Miguel, Oleander flowers, Ibiza, a little piece, Good night, white rosette and Roqueta, my rock. "We went to Sant Miquel –the singer points out– it was actually We went to Can Miquel, which refers to the original version of the song redoubled." The group made up of Isidor Marí, Joan Marí and Víctor Planells took its name from a characteristic peasant cry, of onomatopoeic origin. "The ucos were an expression of celebration, similar to others that exist in Galicia, Aragon and the Canary Islands. They were shouted very loudly, especially by young people when they went out to celebrate or to challenge each other." UC disbanded in 2019 after almost half a century of life. Their work of dignifying popular culture would be continued by the group Ressonadors, emerged in 2008. And since 2024, another group that follows the experimental electronic genre formed by the Catalan Anna Sala and the Ibizan Lara Magrinyà.

Impotence and sadness.

Today there are around thirty singers who keep alive the ancestral voice of the Pitiusas. "Many of the older people who knew how to sing," says Palermet, "have died. Now there are fewer practitioners, but there is a generation of powerful young people who have continued the family tradition. Notable among them are Vicent Cardona Bonet, Fried, Maria Cardona Torres and Elena Ribas Costa de Pep Mariano's houseIn any case, a possible UNESCO protection of the redoubled song does not guarantee its survival. It is more important to ensure that it connects with new generations with lyrics that speak of today's world and not of shepherds or fishermen from a century ago. Otherwise, it will end up becoming a museum piece.

Fellow singer Antoni Manonelles shares the same opinion. He also points to the following difficulty in getting traditional Ibizan singing to take root among young people. "There are courses here to teach it, but we have a very precarious linguistic situation. In the classrooms, there are young people with Ibizan parents who are ashamed to speak Catalan in front of their Spanish-speaking classmates. This makes them quickly switch to Spanish. We Catalan-speaking Ibizans are a Catalan minority."

Manonelles, who confesses to being a practicing Ibizan, couldn't be more sincere: "We need to feel proud of our culture in order to defend it without complexes. I feel a lot of helplessness and sadness at the same time. In a short time, we have gone from being an agrarian society to one full of context in globalization." Director Roger Cassany has just made a more extensive x-ray of traditional Ibizan singing in the documentary Ibiza, a rural treasure, produced by the Platform for Language.