Well, that’s it for another year. Semana Santa was quite a different experience for me this year as it was the first one since moving to the new Casa Azahar. From this location other processions were closer to me, so I found myself seeing a few I had never seen before. And my mission – to get a few pics of at least one or two processions each day – was accomplished. In retrospect I should have edited and filed the photos every evening because going through them all now was a bit overwhelming. Anyhow, here are some of them (unlabelled and not in chronological order)…
Continue reading “Semana Santa 2018”
people waiting for processions, contemplating that other Great Power… 4G
mini-nazareno
the San Bernardo procession in Cuesta del Rosario
chairs galore! Plaza San Franciso
Cristo de la Fundación, San Bernardo
Los Negritos
little boy waiting for the next procession
group of people from nursing home with “preferred seating” supplied by local bars
Virgen de los Ángeles, Los Negritos
elegant ladies dressed “de luto” (in mourning)
Cristo de la Salud, Los Gitanos
costaleros taking a break
off-duty Centurian posing for pics
María Santísima de la Esperanza Macarena
Cristo de la Expiración (El Cachorro)
Here are some nazarenos doing what nazarenos are supposed to do. Which is basically to don the robes of a penitent and, well, do penance. The number of nazarenos varies from brotherhood to brotherhood, sometimes they can be as many as 2000 or more, and a procession of that size, depending on where it starts from, can last up to 14 hours. That’s a lot of penance.
Last night I went out for the Madrugá to see my absolute favourite procession here, El Silencio. I’ve only seen it a few times in my 23 years in Sevilla, mostly because it runs from 1 to 6 am. A relatively short five hours, but also during the hours I am usually attempting to sleep. What I love about this procession is that, instead of a big marching band, the musical accompaniment for each paso is an oboe, clarinet and bassoon, which creates an eerily beautiful ambiance. The other thing I love is that the paso of the Virgin (Santa María de la Concepción) is all silver and white, and that her flowers are simple bouquets of orange blossom.
Seriously, I almost got run over by those guys leading the way, though I still managed a quick blurry pic before scrambling onto the pavement. So we decided to stick around and at least watch the Jesús de la Salud pass by, especially as we were standing on the edge of the pavement and got a really good close-up view.
While waiting for the Christ paso to arrive the temperature took a sudden nose-dive and so once it had passed we decided to make our way home, and as luck would have it, this meant we walked straight into the Los Gitano virgin, Santa María de las Angustias Coronada, passing below the Setas.
Now, I do understand the concept that while the penitent is still wearing the garb they should respect what it stands for and should probably not be seen in public swigging a cold one. As many pointed out on Twitter, what sort of penance is that? And well, okay. But, as I mentioned earlier, I wonder why some penitents get off easier than others, simply because of the numbers. While watching Los Gitanos (one of the biggies) I saw several nazarenos stagger over to a nearby bar, clearly exhausted, for a cold drink. Is it really such a big deal that they maintain their piety and anonymity to the point of possible dehydration? And what about bathroom breaks, especially for those processions that last for up to 14 hours? How much penance is enough for one night?
When I first arrived here in 1993 it was a total novelty to me, as you can imagine, and I tried to get out to see as many processions as possible during the week-long festivities. But I also lived a stone’s throw from the Cathedral, so in effect, Semana Santa came to me every year. I soon learned that all my English classes would be cancelled (without pay! – I was a private tutor in those days), and that I had to get any errands and shopping done well before 2 pm. After about 5 pm I could either dodge the processions and crowds in order to get somewhere, or just stay at home – and as the years passed I more often chose the latter. Well, except when I went out to purposely see processions, usually one or two each year.
Slippery when waxy (from the procession candles)
