Bullfights - Commentary from 2000 trip to Spain
Sunday, our first day in Madrid, Maria, who along with her brother Julio own the hotel we were staying in, asked if we wanted to go to the bullfights. She loves to go, she said, and it’s such a Spanish cultural experience we shouldn’t miss it. Tim & I were fairly reluctant. After all, it’s really a ritualistic slaughter of a bull, not exactly an SPCA approved event. On the other hand, it’s quintessential Spanish culture, and Madrid is *the* place to see it, if you’re going to see it at all. Julio tried to tell us that it was a fair fight, but I don’t think so- after all, the bull always dies (or almost always; the bull can be spared, if it is deemed truly exceptional, but this is rare). Yes, the matadors and others involved risk serious injury and even death (we were to see the danger firsthand at the arena), but a fair fight, I don’t think so. Anyway, after some thought Tim & Alina & I agreed to go. Unfortunately, Alina started feeling bad that evening, so she couldn’t go.
Maria’s brother Juan (yes, another brother) drove the three of us to the arena, the Plaza Monumental de Las Ventas. It’s a beautiful building made of red stone and brick, with a statue of a matador and bull in front, and when we saw all the people streaming in it looked like the Coliseum might have looked before a gladiator fight. There were several choices of seats: in the sun, in the shade, in the sun and the shade as the sun set, close to the arena floor, in the nosebleed section. So when Maria asked what kind of seats we wanted Tim & I just picked a seat price about two-thirds up the scale, and gave her enough to pay for the three of us. She protested vigorously, but after we insisted she went up to the ticket window and bought the tickets. She came back with almost the most expensive seats, she had added more money of her own.
The inside of the arena was circled by maybe 40 rows of stone and concrete benches, leading up from the dirt arena floor to a balcony, where there were more rows. We were glad we paid an extra dollar (about 170 pesetas) for cushions, or our butts would have been really sore from three hours of sitting on concrete. Our seats were excellent, about ten rows up, in the shade. There was a boxed area high up that looked like it might be for VIPs and maybe the press. Maria said that was where the president of the bullring sat, and also Spain’s president or royalty when they attend the fights.
Starting each bullfight, and marking each phase of the fight, is a series of trumpet blasts, like something you’d expect in a jousting match in an Errol Flynn movie. The picadors come out on their horses, along with the toreadors and other participants, and they parade around the arena in a big circle. The toreadors are dressed in colorful sequined outfits, skin-tight. They are always lean, erect, and show the bravado one would expect. The bullring is then cleared, and the first of six bullfights begins. A man runs out with a huge sign stating the name of the bull, its weight, and the matador who will kill it.
There are three phases of the bullfight, called tercios. In the first tercio, the toreadors enter the arena (about six of them), some hiding behind short segments of wall separated from the main arena wall, leaving only enough room for a man to get through, and not a bull. Then the bull is released and it tears about the arena looking none too happy. The bull has a ribbon, or rosette (showing the colors of the ranch on which it was bred), stuck in its back, around about the shoulder blades, and there is already some blood trickling from that. The toreadors take turns taunting the bull by waving magenta capes, and the bull dutifully charges. The toreador lets the bull run through the cape and he finishes with a flourish. Sometimes the bull catches the bullfighter off guard and the he has to retreat behind the wall.
After the bull starts getting tired, perhaps a few minutes, the picadors ride into the ring. The picadors wear fancy white suits, large hats, and wear some sort of protection around their torsos, under their suits. The horses have thick pads around them and are blindfolded. Even the stirrups are armored. The picador carries a pica, a lance maybe eight feet long and a couple inches in diameter, with a steel point at the end. The toreadors taunt the bull and get it to charge a picador. The bull rams the horse, which is so well-trained it simply leans into the bull as the bull tries to gore it. The picador stabs the pica into the bull’s back to weaken the neck muscles, so its head is lower for the kill. He usually does this a couple times. Now plenty of blood is flowing down the bull’s back, and it is plenty mad, but weakened.
The trumpets sound and the second tercio begins. Three toreadors come out with a pair each of brightly colored barbed sticks, or banderillas, perhaps three feet long. In turn, each taunts the bull into charging, and at the last moment he jumps out of the way, at the same time poking the sticks into the bulls back. The base of each stick is flexible so it flops down along the side of the bull while remaining stuck. This causes some pain, obviously, there is some bleeding, and it drives the bull crazy because the sticks bounce against its sides. The other three toreadors do the same, and the bull now has six of these things sticking into its back, and it’s *really* not happy now. The toreadors taunt the bull some more, and it’s time for the third tercio to begin.
The trumpets sound, and the matador (the toreador who kills the bull) stands alone in the ring with the bull. He uses a muleta, a red flannel cloth on a wooden stick. This is the classic bullfighting pose, the matador standing very erect, staring down the bull, holding out his muleta and taunting the bull. (Yelling in Spanish, so I don’t know exactly what he was saying, but I’m sure it amounted to, “hey bull, come on, come on,” that sort of thing.) The bull charges several times and each time the matador deftly lets the bull pass under the muleta. Sometimes the bull catches the muleta with its horns and flings it into the air. This is met with a dirty look from the matador, and the toreadors have to come out and get the bull away so the matador can retrieve his muleta. Sometimes the matador puts the muleta behind his back, with the bull charging so close that you think the matador is finally going to get gored, and the crowd loves that.
When the matador is ready to kill the bull, he steps to the edge of the ring and is handed his sword. The bull is pretty tired by this time, but he still has enough energy to charge when the matador goads him into it. For the kill, the matador gets the bull to charge, and attempts to thrust the sword between the bull’s shoulder blades. I say attempt, because usually he has to try two or three times before it goes in properly. One matador got it right on the first try, and the sword went in all the way, and must have severed the bull’s aorta, which is the idea. Blood poured out of the animal’s mouth, it did one agonizing circle, and collapsed. After the bull drops a man comes out with a knife and severs the spinal chord behind the neck as a coup de grace. Some men with a team of horses enter the ring, tie a rope around the bull’s horns, and drag it away.
Before the carcass is dragged away, the crowd may petition the President of the bullring to award the matador for his bravery and a job well done. This happened in one of the earlier fights when a matador had en especially energetic and difficult bull to kill. The matador did a good job, considering the bull was very fast and the matador was nearly gored several times (although I suppose that’s part of the job). At one point the matador lost a shoe. He glared at the bull, and the crowd didn’t know quite what to make of it all. The quick thinking matador stood erect, pointed his sword at the bull, and with a kick of his foot sent his other shoe flying. The crowd cheered. So in his stocking feet the matador dispatched the bull, and the crowd loved it. To petition the President to award the matador the crowd stands, cheers, and waves white handkerchiefs. If a majority of the crowd waves handkerchiefs the President has to award the matador one ear from the bull. In this case, apparently not enough people waved so the matador didn’t receive an ear.
In the last (and best) fight, the matador had an even more aggressive bull to contend with. We know the bull was going to be difficult because before the toreadors were able to get him to charge, the bull ran around the perimeter of the ring, as if it wanted to get out. A minute later, it did get out! The bull jumped over the wall and started running along the corridor between the wall and the stands. Toreadors and personnel jumped out of the way, and some even had to jump back into the ring. After a few frantic seconds a man being chased by the bull succeeded at the last second in closing a gate behind him, opening a path back into the ring. After the commotion died down, it was time for the picadors to come out. And the bull wasn’t ready to concede yet. The bull charged one of the horses, and as the picador attempted to lance it, the bull reared up and knocked the picador right off his saddle. Unfortunately, he hit his head on the wall and was knocked unconscious. The toreadors worked as a team to get the bull away from the man and his horse, and the picador was carried out of the ring.
Naturally, the crowd was in an uproar. Apparently, this doesn’t happen very often. After the picadors lanced the bull, and the toreadors placed the banderillas, the matador still had a very energetic and mad bull to kill. The matador used his muleta again and again and got the bull very tired. It seemed that the matador was able to mesmerize the bull with his muleta and sword, and he was able to grab the bull by the horns and shake its head! Moments later the matador dispatched the bull, with much cheering from the crowd. This time, the president acknowledged the approval of the crowd and awarded the matador one ear. The ear was cut off and the matador strutted around the ring (basically a victory lap, known as a vuelta), holding the bloody ear high above his head. Awarding one ear signifies the approval of the spectators, but there can be additional awards, or trofeos. If the President himself considers the performance (and it is theater, in a way) to be outstanding, he will award two ears. And if he considers it to be truly exceptional, he will award the tail as well. I don’t know what the matadors do with their trophies, I don’t think I want to know.
After the bullfights were over, Tim and Maria and I took a bus back to the Plaza del la Sol in the center of town, in fact the zero-mile spot for roads out of Madrid. Maria gave us a tour along the way, and the buildings, statues, and fountains were beautifully lit. It was then just a short walk to the hotel. The next day Maria showed us a newspaper article about the bullfight. The picador who had been unhorsed was in the hospital in a coma. This was unfortunate, of course, but I do have to admit it’s almost good that the bull does get to score some points, before it’s killed. I’m glad we went to the bullfights, but I don’t think I’d need to do it again.
Maria’s brother Juan (yes, another brother) drove the three of us to the arena, the Plaza Monumental de Las Ventas. It’s a beautiful building made of red stone and brick, with a statue of a matador and bull in front, and when we saw all the people streaming in it looked like the Coliseum might have looked before a gladiator fight. There were several choices of seats: in the sun, in the shade, in the sun and the shade as the sun set, close to the arena floor, in the nosebleed section. So when Maria asked what kind of seats we wanted Tim & I just picked a seat price about two-thirds up the scale, and gave her enough to pay for the three of us. She protested vigorously, but after we insisted she went up to the ticket window and bought the tickets. She came back with almost the most expensive seats, she had added more money of her own.
The inside of the arena was circled by maybe 40 rows of stone and concrete benches, leading up from the dirt arena floor to a balcony, where there were more rows. We were glad we paid an extra dollar (about 170 pesetas) for cushions, or our butts would have been really sore from three hours of sitting on concrete. Our seats were excellent, about ten rows up, in the shade. There was a boxed area high up that looked like it might be for VIPs and maybe the press. Maria said that was where the president of the bullring sat, and also Spain’s president or royalty when they attend the fights.
Starting each bullfight, and marking each phase of the fight, is a series of trumpet blasts, like something you’d expect in a jousting match in an Errol Flynn movie. The picadors come out on their horses, along with the toreadors and other participants, and they parade around the arena in a big circle. The toreadors are dressed in colorful sequined outfits, skin-tight. They are always lean, erect, and show the bravado one would expect. The bullring is then cleared, and the first of six bullfights begins. A man runs out with a huge sign stating the name of the bull, its weight, and the matador who will kill it.
There are three phases of the bullfight, called tercios. In the first tercio, the toreadors enter the arena (about six of them), some hiding behind short segments of wall separated from the main arena wall, leaving only enough room for a man to get through, and not a bull. Then the bull is released and it tears about the arena looking none too happy. The bull has a ribbon, or rosette (showing the colors of the ranch on which it was bred), stuck in its back, around about the shoulder blades, and there is already some blood trickling from that. The toreadors take turns taunting the bull by waving magenta capes, and the bull dutifully charges. The toreador lets the bull run through the cape and he finishes with a flourish. Sometimes the bull catches the bullfighter off guard and the he has to retreat behind the wall.
After the bull starts getting tired, perhaps a few minutes, the picadors ride into the ring. The picadors wear fancy white suits, large hats, and wear some sort of protection around their torsos, under their suits. The horses have thick pads around them and are blindfolded. Even the stirrups are armored. The picador carries a pica, a lance maybe eight feet long and a couple inches in diameter, with a steel point at the end. The toreadors taunt the bull and get it to charge a picador. The bull rams the horse, which is so well-trained it simply leans into the bull as the bull tries to gore it. The picador stabs the pica into the bull’s back to weaken the neck muscles, so its head is lower for the kill. He usually does this a couple times. Now plenty of blood is flowing down the bull’s back, and it is plenty mad, but weakened.
The trumpets sound and the second tercio begins. Three toreadors come out with a pair each of brightly colored barbed sticks, or banderillas, perhaps three feet long. In turn, each taunts the bull into charging, and at the last moment he jumps out of the way, at the same time poking the sticks into the bulls back. The base of each stick is flexible so it flops down along the side of the bull while remaining stuck. This causes some pain, obviously, there is some bleeding, and it drives the bull crazy because the sticks bounce against its sides. The other three toreadors do the same, and the bull now has six of these things sticking into its back, and it’s *really* not happy now. The toreadors taunt the bull some more, and it’s time for the third tercio to begin.
The trumpets sound, and the matador (the toreador who kills the bull) stands alone in the ring with the bull. He uses a muleta, a red flannel cloth on a wooden stick. This is the classic bullfighting pose, the matador standing very erect, staring down the bull, holding out his muleta and taunting the bull. (Yelling in Spanish, so I don’t know exactly what he was saying, but I’m sure it amounted to, “hey bull, come on, come on,” that sort of thing.) The bull charges several times and each time the matador deftly lets the bull pass under the muleta. Sometimes the bull catches the muleta with its horns and flings it into the air. This is met with a dirty look from the matador, and the toreadors have to come out and get the bull away so the matador can retrieve his muleta. Sometimes the matador puts the muleta behind his back, with the bull charging so close that you think the matador is finally going to get gored, and the crowd loves that.
When the matador is ready to kill the bull, he steps to the edge of the ring and is handed his sword. The bull is pretty tired by this time, but he still has enough energy to charge when the matador goads him into it. For the kill, the matador gets the bull to charge, and attempts to thrust the sword between the bull’s shoulder blades. I say attempt, because usually he has to try two or three times before it goes in properly. One matador got it right on the first try, and the sword went in all the way, and must have severed the bull’s aorta, which is the idea. Blood poured out of the animal’s mouth, it did one agonizing circle, and collapsed. After the bull drops a man comes out with a knife and severs the spinal chord behind the neck as a coup de grace. Some men with a team of horses enter the ring, tie a rope around the bull’s horns, and drag it away.
Before the carcass is dragged away, the crowd may petition the President of the bullring to award the matador for his bravery and a job well done. This happened in one of the earlier fights when a matador had en especially energetic and difficult bull to kill. The matador did a good job, considering the bull was very fast and the matador was nearly gored several times (although I suppose that’s part of the job). At one point the matador lost a shoe. He glared at the bull, and the crowd didn’t know quite what to make of it all. The quick thinking matador stood erect, pointed his sword at the bull, and with a kick of his foot sent his other shoe flying. The crowd cheered. So in his stocking feet the matador dispatched the bull, and the crowd loved it. To petition the President to award the matador the crowd stands, cheers, and waves white handkerchiefs. If a majority of the crowd waves handkerchiefs the President has to award the matador one ear from the bull. In this case, apparently not enough people waved so the matador didn’t receive an ear.
In the last (and best) fight, the matador had an even more aggressive bull to contend with. We know the bull was going to be difficult because before the toreadors were able to get him to charge, the bull ran around the perimeter of the ring, as if it wanted to get out. A minute later, it did get out! The bull jumped over the wall and started running along the corridor between the wall and the stands. Toreadors and personnel jumped out of the way, and some even had to jump back into the ring. After a few frantic seconds a man being chased by the bull succeeded at the last second in closing a gate behind him, opening a path back into the ring. After the commotion died down, it was time for the picadors to come out. And the bull wasn’t ready to concede yet. The bull charged one of the horses, and as the picador attempted to lance it, the bull reared up and knocked the picador right off his saddle. Unfortunately, he hit his head on the wall and was knocked unconscious. The toreadors worked as a team to get the bull away from the man and his horse, and the picador was carried out of the ring.
Naturally, the crowd was in an uproar. Apparently, this doesn’t happen very often. After the picadors lanced the bull, and the toreadors placed the banderillas, the matador still had a very energetic and mad bull to kill. The matador used his muleta again and again and got the bull very tired. It seemed that the matador was able to mesmerize the bull with his muleta and sword, and he was able to grab the bull by the horns and shake its head! Moments later the matador dispatched the bull, with much cheering from the crowd. This time, the president acknowledged the approval of the crowd and awarded the matador one ear. The ear was cut off and the matador strutted around the ring (basically a victory lap, known as a vuelta), holding the bloody ear high above his head. Awarding one ear signifies the approval of the spectators, but there can be additional awards, or trofeos. If the President himself considers the performance (and it is theater, in a way) to be outstanding, he will award two ears. And if he considers it to be truly exceptional, he will award the tail as well. I don’t know what the matadors do with their trophies, I don’t think I want to know.
After the bullfights were over, Tim and Maria and I took a bus back to the Plaza del la Sol in the center of town, in fact the zero-mile spot for roads out of Madrid. Maria gave us a tour along the way, and the buildings, statues, and fountains were beautifully lit. It was then just a short walk to the hotel. The next day Maria showed us a newspaper article about the bullfight. The picador who had been unhorsed was in the hospital in a coma. This was unfortunate, of course, but I do have to admit it’s almost good that the bull does get to score some points, before it’s killed. I’m glad we went to the bullfights, but I don’t think I’d need to do it again.
