A bullfight consists of three matadors and six bulls, with each matador accompanied by two assistants. Stature determines the order of the fights, alternating throughout. The assistants have wooden boards around the ring to hide behind as the agitate the bull. Their job is to goad the bull to determine it's quality. The crowd shouts if they think the bull is not good enough and a new one is brought out. During our fight there were some very passionate older men routing for new bulls to no avail.
The seats are small concrete rows so close together you are touching people on all sides of you. The audience was filled with men in three piece suits smoking cigars. I found it reminiscent of how people behave at a polo match, a level of sophistication from the spectators as well as the matadors.
The matadors lead the toros around them with a red cape and the most skilled matadors do not let the cape touch the ground. They tired the bull until the final kill shot. There is an irrefutable stigma to bull fighting that I myself had before attending. The class decided to go on our free time and it seemed like a Spain experience I really shouldn't miss. Though it was incredibly difficult to watch in the beginning, as time went on you started to notice the nuances of the show. The costumes and etiquette helped clear the confusion of this being simply slaughter. A man next to us happily narrated the fight showing us the difference of the bulls in our program. They are raised for fights and have a lineage mapped out for the viewers. The matador was considered most successful the faster the bull died after his kill shot. This alone brought a little light of humanity that I had not expected.
I find it really fascinating how quickly your opinions can be altered, especially in this situation, just from experience. I do not think I could say I would go again or give rave reviews but I do appreciate it for the dying art it is.
Dying art? I guess it is on more than one level.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting to hear about that connection between crowd-matador-bull. I suppose nothing is as simple as it seems. Who am I to judge? I still have an occasional hamburger. That whole process is seemingly way less humane.
You're correct: if you're in Spain you almost HAVE to do a bullfight. Kinda like what Richie Havens said as I was waiting to meet him as we heard Arlo Guthrie starting to play, "If you're gonna see Arlo, you're gonna hear Alice's Restaurant". Es todo bueno, or whatever the It's All Good translation is.