Biography reviewed by Montse Madridejos (CC BY-NC-SA)
There was a time when flamenco outside Spain was synonymous with Carmen Amaya (Barcelona, 1918 – Begur, Girona, 1963). Although more than 60 years have passed since her death in Begur (Girona), her rapid footwork still echoes in the memory of the oldest aficionados and among those who discover or rediscover her dances thanks to YouTube or social media. Carmen Amaya’s art evolved from the local to the universal in just forty-five dazzling years of travels and triumphs, rising from poverty to Hollywood’s applause, from Barcelona’s tablaos to the world’s greatest theaters. Her fame has been so international that even a crater on Venus bears her name. Her dance was so dazzling and electrifying that even the President of the United States, Franklin D. Roosevelt, was awestruck when he saw her perform. The poet Jean Cocteau, after watching her in Paris, declared:
Carmen is hail on glass, a swallow’s cry, the cigarette smoked by a dreamy woman.
A brilliant and unrepeatable artist, Carmen was born in 1918 in Barcelona, in one of the miserable shacks haphazardly crowded along Somorrostro beach—an area between what is now Nova Icària beach and Bogatell. Her father, José Amaya, nicknamed “El Chino,” was a flamenco guitarist, and her mother, Micaela Amaya, occasionally danced zambras in the family’s private gatherings.
The Amaya-Amaya couple had, as far as we know, seven children, in order: Paco, Carmen, Antonia, Leonor, José, Antonio, and María. All of them pursued professional careers in flamenco, except for the youngest, José, about whom news fades during his early years. Paco became a guitarist, while Carmen, Antonia, Leonor, Antonio, and María took up dancing, and occasionally singing in the cases of Carmen and Leonor. The mother’s sister, Juana Amaya, known as “La Faraona,” was, on the other hand, widely recognized for her extraordinary talent in dance.
Carmen showed promise from a very young age, performing nightly in the tablaos and taverns of Barcelona’s Barrio Chino, dancing alongside her father and her aunt. According to her own words, she made her debut at the Teatro Español del Paral·el with the comedy troupe of Josep Santpere and Josep Bergés. Her first performance in a theater was likely in the play La Campana de Gràcia o el Fill de la Marieta (a sequel to the popular La Marieta de l’Ull Viu), which premiered on June 7, 1924.
In 1929, her international career began when she joined the Trío Amaya alongside her aunt Juana “La Faraona” and her cousin María. They were hired to perform in Paris in the show París-Madrid by the renowned cupletista Raquel Meller. The show premiered in April 1929 at the Music-Hall Palace. During their stay in Paris, film director Benito Perojo took an interest in the Trío Amaya and included them in flamenco-themed sequences of his movie La Bodega.
Upon returning to Barcelona, Carmen continued performing on every possible stage: at Bar del Manquet, El Cangrejo Flamenco, Edén Concert, Teatro Circo Barcelonés, Juanito El Dorado’s bar, and the famous Villa Rosa, managed by the Borrull family.
To mark the inauguration of Andalusian Week at the Barcelona Exposition in 1930, the entire family was photographed for a feature that appeared on the cover of the Notas Gráficas supplement of La Vanguardia on June 24, 1930.In 1931, the journalist Sebastià Gasch, a chronicler of Barcelona’s nightlife and a flamenco specialist, discovered and described the art of a young Romani girl who enchanted audiences with her dances. He wrote about her in the magazine Mirador:
At La Taurina, one has to be lucky and pick the right night, as some evenings—though only a few—Carmencita dances. It’s hard to find the exact words to comment on this marvel. Imagine a little Romani girl, about fourteen years old, sitting on the stage. Carmencita sits still and statuesque, proud and noble, with an indefinable racial nobility—hermetic, removed from everything and everyone, alone with her inspiration, frozen in an attitude that allows her soul to ascend to unreachable heights. Suddenly, she leaps up. And the little Romani girl begins to dance. The indescribable. Soul. Pure soul.
From 1933 onwards, Carmen Amaya’s performances and successes followed one another in quick succession, earning her the nickname La Capitana. She made a brief appearance in José Buchs’ film Dos mujeres y un Don Juan and shared stages with some of the most prominent flamenco figures of the time: La Niña de los Peines, Manuel Vallejo, Manuel Torres, José Cepero, the Borrull family, Pastora Imperio, Niño Ricardo, Montoya, and Sabicas, who would become her long-time guitar partner.
Her definitive national breakthrough came in 1935 when director José Luis Sáenz de Heredia hired her as a guest artist for the film La hija de Juan Simón, and Jerónimo Mihura did the same for the short film Don Viudo de Rodríguez.
Living with her family in Madrid, Carmen performed in numerous venues, including the Teatro de la Zarzuela alongside Concha Piquer and Miguel de Molina. She also toured other Spanish cities, such as Huesca, Seville, San Sebastián, and Valladolid. Her first leading film role was in María de la O, directed by Francisco Elías in 1936, just months before she left Spain.
When the Spanish Civil War broke out in 1936, Carmen Amaya and her troupe were touring Valladolid with Luisita Esteso’s show. From there, they crossed the border into Portugal. After a brief stay in Lisbon, they boarded the ship Monte Pascoal and sailed to Buenos Aires, with stops in Brazil and Uruguay.
Coinciding with the summer season in Buenos Aires, her company was contracted to perform at the Teatro Maravillas, where they premiered a show on December 12, 1936. The success was immediate and overwhelming: hundreds of consecutive performances, a year-long sold-out run, and skyrocketing fame. In June 1937, journalist Edmundo Guibourg wrote about her in the Buenos Aires newspaper Crítica:
The Romani dancer Carmen Amaya has given 400 consecutive performances at the Maravillas without losing the interest she sparked on the night of her debut on that stage, where her revelation can be described as a surprise.
[…] From the early days of Carmen Amaya’s performances, the public packed the old, inhospitable Maravillas theater, despite the harsh summer weather, while other theaters were nearly empty. Variations in the program and a robust variety troupe contributed to maintaining the audience’s enthusiasm as the theatrical season began, and the exceptional box office success, driven by the dancer’s prestige, has continued to this day.
Alongside Carmen, during her early performances, were her father José Amaya, El Chino, her brother Paco, and El Pelao on guitar, as well as Asunción Pastor as a singer and a large group of variety artists. Among them were the Argentine brothers Marbel, mentalists of the time, the eccentric duo Hermanos Rubians, and the flamenco singer Chato de Valencia. Later, other notable artists joined the company, including Los Chavalillos Sevillanos (a young Rosario and Antonio), Ramón Montoya, and eventually Sabicas.
The success she achieved in Argentina allowed her to perform in other countries, such as Uruguay, Mexico, and Cuba. In 1939, she filmed the short movie El Embrujo del Fandango in Havana under the direction of Jean Angelo. For this film, she wore a green bolero-inspired dress, which was immortalized in a famous painting by Ruano Llopis dedicated to «Carmen Amaya, a prodigy of flamenco art, with admiration and affection,» in June 1939 in Mexico.
In Mexico City, she debuted at the Teatro Fábregas in April 1939 and performed there until August of the same year, with appearances in other cities such as Guadalajara (at Teatro Tívoli on June 24) and Torreón (in the bullring on July 16). From January to April 1940, she performed at the El Patio venue in Mexico City alongside dancer Antonio Triana. According to his wife, Rita de Triana, Antonio acted as an intermediary between Carmen and Sol Hurok, the famed American talent manager who brought her to debut in New York.
Sol Hurok managed the U.S. careers of renowned artists like Vicente Escudero, La Argentinita, Mstislav Rostropovich, Arthur Rubinstein, Marian Anderson, Anna Pavlova, Isadora Duncan, and Andrés Segovia. During these years, Carmen received high praise from the conductor Arturo Toscanini, who declared: «Never in my life have I seen a dancer with so much fire and rhythm and such a marvelous personality.» Similarly, Leopold Stokowski exclaimed: «What devil must possess her body!»
Carmen Amaya and her company arrived in the United States on December 9, 1940. Under the guidance of Sol Hurok, they debuted at the Beachcomber nightclub in New York on January 17, 1941. This marked the beginning of the golden era in Carmen Amaya’s artistic career. Journalists unleashed their creativity in describing her, calling her «the human Vesuvius,» «the firebomb,» «the human volcano,» and «the tempestuous dancer.»
The influential LIFE magazine dedicated an extensive feature to her, with stunning photographs by Gjon Mili, in March 1941. These images were later exhibited at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York. Hurok himself featured her in the documentary Original Gypsy Dances, which served as her introduction to the New York audience.
In June 1941, she and her company recorded Flamencan Songs and Dances I and II for Decca Records. Around the same time, she boarded an airplane for the first time to travel to Washington, where she performed for President Roosevelt.
Shortly thereafter, she left the Beachcomber and made a grand debut at Carnegie Hall in New York alongside Antonio Triana in January 1942. That same year, she embarked on her first tour across the United States, reaching Los Angeles in March, where she was contracted to appear in the Hollywood film Panama Hattie. However, her performance was ultimately not included in the final cut of the film.
Between June and July 1942, she performed in the vaudeville show Laugh, Town, Laugh by Ed Wynn at the Alvin Theatre on Broadway.
In 1943, Carmen Amaya was once again invited to perform for President Roosevelt, this time at the Waldorf Astoria in New York during the President’s Birthday Ball, a charity event held annually on the president’s birthday to raise funds for the fight against polio.
Her popularity in the city skyrocketed to the point where Arnold Constable, one of the most prestigious department stores of the time, organized a summer fashion show featuring dresses inspired by Carmen Amaya. She became known as the famous gypsy dancer earning $2,000 a week.
That same year, she premiered her rendition of El Amor Brujo before 20,000 spectators at the massive Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. Interestingly, Amaya and her company performed two consecutive nights at this iconic venue, while Frank Sinatra only performed there once.
Carmen continued dancing in numerous concert halls across the United States, including Detroit, Chicago, Seattle, Tacoma, Phoenix, Fresno, San Francisco, Portland, Pasadena, San Diego, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, St. Louis, and Washington. While in Hollywood, she appeared in the films Knickerbocker Holiday (1944), Follow the Boys (1944), and See My Lawyer (1945), capturing her electrifying performances on screen.
This period also gave rise to colorful and fantastical stories about her American adventures. She and her family, indifferent to American conventions, remained closely bonded, forming a tight-knit and vibrant group that included elders and children. They traveled like nomads across the country, bringing their art, suitcases, pots, and pans wherever they went.
Carmen maintained strong connections with Argentina, performing there regularly. In 1943, she appeared alongside Miguel de Molina at the Teatro Odeón in Rosario. In 1945, she performed at the Teatro Avenida in Buenos Aires, sharing the stage in November with Pepe Marchena and Concha Piquer.
That same year, she spent an extended period in Mexico, achieving more than fifteen consecutive weeks of success at the El Patio nightclub. While in Mexico City, she was cast in the film Los Amores de un Torero (later released in Spain as Pasión Gitana) alongside the bullfighter Cagancho.
In addition to performing in Mexico and Argentina, Carmen also gave occasional performances during these years in Havana (Cuba), Rio de Janeiro (Brazil), Montevideo (Uruguay), and Caracas (Venezuela).
In 1946, a charming interview with Carmen Amaya appeared in a North American newspaper while she was performing in Mexico. The interviewer, Jeanne Francis Fetter—wife of Rómulo Negrín, son of Juan Negrín (the last President of the Government of the Spanish Second Republic)—spoke with Carmen about her long absence from Spain. During the interview, she asked:
– Are you planning to return to Spain?
– No… I’m afraid, said Miss Amaya.
– Afraid of Franco? Jeanne Fetter continued….
– No. One gypsy alone could handle Franco.
– I’m afraid only of the bucks…
– What bucks? J.F. Fetter asked.
– The ten bucks, Carmen replied.
– Ten bucks? What does that mean?
– Ten bucks is all they pay a dancer in Spain.
However, whether due to nostalgia or the death of her father in Buenos Aires in 1946, Carmen Amaya returned to Spain in the summer of 1947.
After eleven years of absence, she landed at Barajas Airport (Madrid) on August 11, 1947, arriving from Montevideo as a globally acclaimed artist. That September, she premiered her show Embrujo Español at the Teatro Madrid in Madrid and continued performing it across various Spanish cities, including Barcelona, Valladolid, Zamora, Málaga, and Seville.
Back in Europe, Carmen’s aunt Juana Amaya, La Faraona, rejoined her company, and the dance duo Teresa Viera Romero and Luis Pérez Dávila, known as Teresa and Luisillo, began to take on more prominent roles. From this point forward, Carmen Amaya’s performances were staged in the finest theaters of each city and country.
In Paris, she performed at the prestigious Théâtre des Champs-Élysées from May 5 to May 11, 1948, and in July of the same year, she appeared at the Prince’s Theatre in London. Throughout 1949, she toured extensively across Europe.
During her new tour of Argentina in 1950, Carmen filled venues such as the Casino de Mar del Plata, the Teatro Astral in Buenos Aires, and the Teatro La Comedia in Rosario. She was joined by virtuoso guitarist Mario Escudero and flamenco dancer Paco Laberinto, further enhancing her ensemble.
In 1951, she performed in Biarritz, Madrid, Barcelona, Lisbon, and Porto, and was introduced by guitarist Mario Escudero to the man who would become her husband, fellow guitarist Juan Antonio Agüero. They were married on October 19 in Barcelona, at the Santa Mónica Church at the end of Las Ramblas. The ceremony was simple, true to her style, held early in the morning with only a few close friends and family present.
From that moment on, and likely influenced by Agüero’s restless and adventurous spirit, Carmen Amaya’s company showcased their art across the globe. It is difficult to trace their countless travels: Spain, France, Algeria, England, the United States, Argentina, Chile, Costa Rica, Mexico, Venezuela, Cuba, Peru, and more. They arrived in Mexico in 1955, where they reunited with Sabicas, who rejoined the company for their American tours. On this occasion, the dance duo Pepita Ortega and Goyo Reyes also joined the ensemble.Her return to New York, once again at Carnegie Hall, drew high praise from dance critic John Martin in The New York Times on October 1, 1955, who wrote:
Certainly, Carmen Amaya has not been wasting her time during her absence from the New York stage. She left us a whirlwind gypsy without much form or discipline; she returns to us an artist.
During these years, numerous photographs captured her with some of the most famous actors and stars in the United States: Marlon Brando, Mary Astor, Wallace Beery, a young Kim Novak, Tamara Toumanova, Katherine Dunham, Josephine Baker, Dana Andrews, and others.In 1956 and 1957, she recorded two albums in New York with Sabicas on guitar: Queen of the Gypsies and Flamenco! Both were highly acclaimed by the press. Regarding these recordings, pianist and composer Friedrich Gulda admitted:
I would love to find the old vinyls of Carmen Amaya with Sabicas; I lost them in my second divorce. Ex-wives should be told: you can have everything, except the Carmen Amaya vinyls.
She returned to act in various films such as Quand te tues-tu? (by French director Émile Couzinet in 1953), Dringue, Castrito y la lámpara de Aladino (filmed in Argentina in 1954 under the direction of Luis José Moglia), and Música en la noche (directed by Tito Davison, filmed in Mexico in 1958).
In 1959, thanks to the intervention of her friend and journalist Josep Maria Massip during Mayor Porcioles’ administration, Barcelona paid an emotional tribute to her with the inauguration of a fountain bearing her name on the Paseo Marítimo on February 17. She, moved and as generous as always to all her loved ones, brought her company from Paris to Barcelona to offer a unique charity recital at the Palau de la Música to help build the new San Rafael Hospital-Asylum. At the end of the concert, César González-Ruano presented her with the Gold Medal awarded by the Círculo de Bellas Artes in Madrid. That same year, she made another brief visit to Barcelona. This time, in October, she strolled again through her hometown of Somorrostro, through streets filled with mud, still among shanties and poverty. Touched by the displays of affection, she organized a festival with her entire company at the Municipal Sports Palace on October 30, to benefit Somorrostro, featuring performances by Concha Velasco, Mary Santpere, Mario Cabré, and Pastora Imperio, among others, who participated selflessly.
During her last years, she continued to perform tirelessly in France, the United States, Mexico, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, and Uruguay. In Spain, she went on several tours through Palma de Mallorca and the Costa Brava, where she finally bought a beautiful farmhouse, Mas Pinc in Begur (Girona), to rest during the brief interludes of her exhausting world tours.
In 1963, the year her kidney disease became more evident, she filmed in Barcelona what would be her last movie: Los Tarantos by Francisco Rovira Beleta. Carmen was unable to see it premiere in commercial theaters, but it remains her great cinematic testament. Her performance was full of emotion, drama, and unforgettable dances, such as the bulerías among the shanties or the taranto at Bar Las Guapas.
Carmen wanted to spend her last days at Mas Pinc in Begur, where she died, consumed by renal failure, on November 19, 1963, at nine oh five in the morning. Just forty-five years of a frenzied life, of travels around the globe, of successes and applause that still resonate in memory because, as the writer Néstor Luján bid her farewell:
Carmen Amaya was an exceptional being, one of those who served, with absolute dedication of themselves, to the mysterious Andalusian dance, which has an old and ever-changing form, like the bonfire.
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