Song and Dance, the Story of Flamenco Legend Carmen Amaya

The Passeig Marítim in Barceloneta is a boardwalk where tourists and residents ramble down the strip adjacent to the sand, pedal down the bike path, stop to buy a smoothie or take a selfie. Just off the path is small, nondescript square called Plaça de Brugada. In that square is a 24-hour grocery store and a fountain, adorned with a sculpture of five dancing and guitar-strumming angels standing under an arch.

This is the Fuente de Carmen Amaya—a fountain named after the most important and beloved flamenco dancer in the history of Barcelona, and arguably the world. The current structure, designed by the sculptor Rafael Solanic, stands in the place where a humble tap once provided water for the young gypsy girl and her family, living in the seafront shantytown of Somorrostro.

According to official records, Carmen Amaya was born in the year 1913, in the middle of a torrential rainstorm, surrounded by poverty and chaos. Her father was a Romani guitar player named José Amaya "El Chino," her mother Micaela Amaya Moreno. Carmen was the second of eleven children. She became known all over the world as "La Capitana" (The Captain), although the moniker did not arise from her place as the leader of a large family and traveling musical show, but was given to her when she was a little girl. Her strong character and generosity inspired such devotion that even as a child, she became the natural leader of the pack among the neighborhood kids.

José Amaya made his living playing music in bars and on the street, and when La Capitana was still barely older than a toddler she began accompanying him—dancing, singing and collecting the change tossed at their feet by passing patrons. In the year 1920, at the age of seven, she made her public debut at the famous Catalan restaurant 7 Portes, which functioned as a cafe-theatre for local artists in those days. Their reputation grew, and eventually the duo started performing in a few small local theaters. Carmen’s unique dancing style and boundless energy attracted attention.

One day, this energetic little girl was noticed by a variety show booker named José Santpere. He was able to sell her show to the Spanish theatre and later to theatres in Paris. In 1929, she performed at the International Exposition in Barcelona, in flamenco festivals in the caves of the Sacromonte in Granada, and alongside other artists in Madrid. King Alfonso XIII became a fan. Her unconventional, forceful, frenetic style—and scandalous tendency to wear men’s trousers while performing—set her apart from other dancers. No one had ever seen anything like her. As Amaya’s fame grew to an international level, she collaborated with great musicians, such as the guitarist Sabicas, and was cast in several films, including Mario de la O (1936) and La Hija de Juan Simon (1935).

For the next 20 years, she and her ever-expanding troupe of family and musicians toured the world. She insisted that whoever wanted to book her, booked all of them, or no deal. Amaya was so in-demand at the time that promoters had little choice but to agree. She was a force of nature artistically, and a hot cultural commodity commercially.

When the Spanish Civil War broke out, Amaya’s dance company sailed to Buenos Aires from Portugal with the entire family. For the next several years, they performed in South America, and Amaya continued her film career in movies directed by Argentine director Miguel de Molina and others.

In the Forties, Amaya was cast in films in Hollywood, and traveled to Los Angeles, New York and Washington DC to perform for President Franklin Roosevelt. FDR was so impressed with her performance that he invited the dancer to the White House and presented her with a bolero jacket covered in gold, emeralds and other precious gems. As the story goes, Carmen promptly dismantled the jacket to divide among nearly 30 family members who were traveling with her at the time, with the explanation that what was hers was also theirs.

The Amaya clan didn’t return to Spain until 1947, where by this time, Carmen was hailed as a living legend. She went on to tour in London, Italy, France, Germany, America, Argentina, Mexico and more. When she was visiting London, the local papers snapped a shot of her with Queen Elizabeth II and published it with a caption saying "Two Queens Face to Face."

In 1952, Carmen married her guitarist Juan Antonio Agüero, who was a payo (non-gypsy), but was nevertheless accepted by the massive gitana family of los Amaya. He reportedly referred to her by "usted" until the day they were married, a mark of his unfailing respect for the woman who would become his wife.

On Valentine’s Day in 1959, the fountain in Barceloneta was inaugurated in the presence of Amaya and her family, even though the Amayas had to cancel tour dates in France and drive through the night in order to be there for the ceremony. Carmen Amaya stood in front of the mayor, the press and her public, and shed tears of happiness on the spot where she once filled a metal bucket with water from a spigot every morning of her young life. She was presented with a huge bouquet of flowers by three young local girls.

In 1963, Carmen shot her last film, Los Tarantos, though it was at this time that she was beginning to show signs of renal sclerosis, a disease that would eventually kill her. On August 8th, 1963, in Malaga, Carmen Amaya danced for the last time in public. She lived out her final 10 years in a masia (country house) in the coastal Catalan town of Begur, surrounded by family.

When she died on November 19th, 1963, Carmen Amaya was only 50 years old, but she had left an indelible mark on the flamenco world. Her funeral procession wound down the hill from the masia into the streets of Begur, as gypsies and fans from all over Spain and even France came to pay tribute. When the procession was over, her house was left stripped bare—it seems everyone wanted a piece of the beloved dancer’s life for themselves. Dishes, silverware, fans, dresses, the great dancer’s shoes, bed sheets torn into strips, paintings on the wall—all were seen as relics of an almost-sainted figure.

Upon her death, streets, statues, tablaos de flamenco, theaters and more were dedicated to her. In Begur, her house has been converted into a cultural center dedicated to the protection of the environment. In Barcelona, there are countless small tributes to the great artist around the city, including the Sala Carmen Amaya at the Mercat de Flors and the Tablao de Carmen in Poble Espanyol. And of course, there is the little fountain in Barceloneta.

In 2013, the city of Barcelona celebrated what would have been her 100th birthday with talks, presentations, and photo exhibits by Julio Ubiña and Isabel "Colita" Steva Hernández. There were numerous flamenco shows, as well as meals featuring all her favorite dishes, including sardines, which Carmen infamously roasted for her family and crew in her hotel room at New York’s Waldorf Astoria, much to the chagrin of the management and other guests.

Published August 1, 2018, updated April 8, 2024.