Madrid: Flamenco at La Solea

Night scene along Cava Baja in Madrid's La Latina neighborhood.

Very late on Saturday Lisa and I staggered our way through Madrid’s historic La Latina neighborhood to La Soleá, a smoked-filled flamenco bar, below street level, with blue and white tiles and wooden benches lining the walls. Lisa says this is a place where flamenco musicians and dancers hang out when they’re not working, “Though it’s still a little early,” (it’s well past one).

In the corner is a woman with dark hair and geometric features—triangular nose, rectangular mouth, eyes set wide apart—wearing a black shawl draped over her red dress in such a way that she looks like a living Cubist painting. I start calling her Picasso’s Daughter.

Pretty soon Lisa goes over to her table and talks to her. When she comes back, I ask her what that was all about and she says she knows her; the woman’s name is Anna, she’s a gypsy. “The way she sings will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “La mujer es encendida,” she whispers to me.

Everyone in this room is incendiary, I tell her.

As Anna begins singing, the room hushes; her voice produces the promised reaction. My throat feeling dry, my forehead feverish, I order a bottle of cava, telling the waiter to take a glass of the sparkling wine over to the singer.

After the song, Picasso’s Daughter comes over and sits with us. I nervously pour us all another glass of cava. It is now after two in the morning. Lisa excuses herself to go to the restroom. She doesn’t return to the table. Leaving me to finish the wine with Picasso’s Daughter.