The Week before Semana Santa

Spring has finally come to Sevilla. For nearly three weeks now, it has not rained, at least not with the force and regularity that was the case during the winter months. In the last week, the azahares (orange blossoms) have emerged in full force, and the color of the countryside has deepened into emerald green. Of course, all of this means Semana Santa (Holy Week) cannot be far away. With the start of La Cuaresma (Lent), many of the city’s most important religious and artistic masterpieces made their way from the places in which they reside for the majority of the year to the various shrines and parish churches from which they will start their journey during Semana Santa. On the first Friday of March, I went to see the start of the elaborate Via Crucis de la Pía Unión a la Cruz del Campo, hosted by Rafael de Medina y Abascal, the young 20^th Duke of Feria, in the Casa de Pilatos, the historic palace-residence of his ancestors, the Dukes of Medinaceli. This event, supposedly the oldest of its kind, initiated preparations for what most sevillanos would agree is the most important period in the city’s annual festive calendar.

Formal events aside, the rather mundane preparations for Semana Santa now seem to dominate life in the Old City. My walks across town are now accompanied by the constant hammering of scaffolding and boards to form raised walkways along the main routes to the Cathedral and viewing stands under construction in the main squares. The trumpet and drum bands that will lead the processions have started to practice around the clock. Costaleros, the men who carry the pasos (floats), also have stepped up their practices rounding tricky corners and generally trying to accustom themselves to the experience of carrying the combined weight of statues, candles, and silver adornments atop a bed of gilt wood. Older member of the confraternities now seem to wear their lapel pins more proudly, a firm testament to their membership in one of several not-so-secret brotherhoods. The churches are thoroughly adorned in purple, white, and red. Civic spaces are undergoing transformation as well. In recent days, city hall has been treated to an ample helping of red velvet with gold trim to adorn its facade. Even local businesses get in on the act. Nearly every store has a Semana Santa poster, framed in some instances. The fabric stores have nazarenos (the figures with pointy hats) on display and the confiterías (pastry and sweet shops) have started to sell torrijas, a type of French toast treat traditional to Semana Santa celebrations.

Even those of us not who are not part of a hermandad seem to take an active part in the preparations, if only indirectly. The housing market in the city spikes during Semana Santa, when thousands of out-of-towners descend on the city to see the affair. Extra couches, balcony space, roof access, and the tickets owed to locals have become hot commodities. I’ve decided to forego renting out my couch, instead offering it up to a series of visiting friends.

To signify that we are now on the home stretch, last Sunday – one week prior to Domingo de Ramos, or Palm Sunday – religious spaces were opened for public viewing of the pasos and photos. The penitent were also invited to kiss the feet of various wooden Jesuses (...de la Cruz, de los Tres Caídos, and so on) amidst a cloud of incense, provided by elaborately costumed altar boys and stern-looking members of the respective hermandad, for the last time before the statutes are mounted atop the pasos.

And what of the guy that had a nativity scene built into the back of his car and on display during the month of December? Well, just last night I saw him parked alongside Plaza de La Campana, trunk open and trumpet and drum music blaring, showing off the procession scene he built into the back of his hatchback. Too funny! Lest the kissing of idols confuse you, this festival is as much about tradition and unadulterated civic pride as it is about anything sanctified by the Catholic Church.

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In the last few weeks, I spent a week in Madrid working out of the National Library, I took a day trip to the center of the Spanish ham-producing region in the Sierra de Aracena (Huelva province), spent several days along the Atlantic coast from my base in Cantabria for the Fulbright mid-year meeting in Santander, and then traveled to the far eastern reach of the province of the Sevilla to visit an archive in Osuna. It seems my travel schedule has outpaced my ability to keep updating the blog with a high degree of regularity. To this end, I’ll probably keep my comments shorter in future posts in the interest of at least committing some more pictures to the site.