"What's the shawl thing?" you may ask. Well, I will explain. Long ago in the Alfama district of Lisbon, there lived a prostitute and fadista named Maria Severa Onofriana, or simply A Severa. She was beautiful, talented, and beloved of the Count of Vimioso. At this time, Fado was still the music of the working and lower classes, not of nobility. A Severa died a tragic death of tuberculosis at a young age, and the legend says that the Count was unbearably distraught and mourned her death very publicly. Many credit the Count's affection for Severa as popularizing Fado with the upper classes. In truth, the love story is so moving and tragic - it just smacks of La traviata - that it was immortalized in a popular book in by Júlio Dantas. That book was turned into very popular stage play in 1901, which was then turned into the first ever Portuguese language sound film in 1931. All of this brought Fado into the limelight of Lisbon.
"But Shay," you may be saying, "what does any of this have to do with you collecting shawls?" Patience, meus amigos. I am getting there. Severa was famous for not only wearing the classic black lace shawl herself, but tradition holds that all female fadistas wear the shawl in eternal mourning of her death. (There is a beautiful scene in Carlos Saura's Fados in which fadista Catarina Moura sings the story to a crowd in period clothing. I'd post the YouTube video, but I cannot find one with English subtitles. Anyway, if you're following this blog and you haven't seen the movie yet, it's time to bite the bullet, get a bottle of wine and a box of tissues and tuck in. It's on Netflix. Just do it already. It's worth it.)
Back to shawls, and my collecting of them. I have been borrowing a flamenco manton from Beau's wife (who is very kind and a great dancer, by the way) since our first concert. I knew this could not continue forever, so I set about seeing what other contemporary fadistas were wearing. I would hate to get to Lisbon and find that I am already out of fashion. After much research, I can tell you that these girls are getting pretty creative with the concept of shawl. Any Google image search of Mariza or Ana Moura will show some pretty varied options. Along with gorgeous, updated versions of the traditional shawl in new shapes or colors, they're using shrugs and scarves, wraps and short jackets; Jordan said he saw Cuca Roseta in a blazer at a club one night! I knew I needed to procure some impressive and distinctive pieces to keep up. Enter Laura Issac.
Laura is a good friend and an amazing interdisciplinary artist. I have been working with her husband, James, in The People's Liberation Big Band of Greater Kansas City for years, but just started working with Laura this year, as - of all things - a model for her artistic clothing and knitting project line, 10kHrs. Laura has made me some beautiful pieces in the past, but when she offered to design and make me a shawl, I knew I was in for something special. She's concocted a hybrid of sorts; a glove that turns into a shawl. The gorgeous yarn she selected is light as air, and on it's way to KC. It should be ready just before we leave. This is a sketch of the piece. You can see why I am so excited.
In the meantime, I have been gifted two beautiful shawls, one long, lace, and Egyptian from my good friend Linda, and another airy, velvet one given on a whim last weekend by my new friend Michelle. She literally took it off her own shoulders and gave it to me. I also picked up a loose-fitting lace shift that is working nicely, so I'm feeling set in the shawl department. (That is, of course, not to say that I will not be acquiring more in Lisbon. I'm just set for NOW.)
However, I still felt like something was missing. I saw a photo that got me thinking about Coimbra fadistas. Coimbra is home to a large university, and the fadistas (which for years were only men and mostly students) dress in the academic uniform of a dark robe, cape and dark leggings. Somewhere, I had seen an old black-and-white still from a film of men and women in the open black robes, singing and laughing together while playing Coimbra Fado. On a recent trip to West 18th street, an area of KC filled with wonderful local shops and boutiques, I instantly found what I had been missing. International designer Hadley Johnson keeps a small storefront there, and hanging in the back, was the most gorgeous black kimono I had ever seen, reminiscent of the beautiful black robes of Coimbra. It was outside of the price range of a girl saving for a month-long trip to Portugal, but Hadley saw how much I loved it and offered me an incredible deal. I was just blown away by her kindness. I get to go pick it up tomorrow!
When I think about these women, what they have done for me, and their unbelievable generosity, I see it as a parable for all the amazing folks who have reached into their hearts and their pockets to support this project. I am honored and humbled at the response to our fundraising campaign; never in a million years did I begin to imagine it possible, and you all have made it so. This music is the music of community, it is meant to be shared and played together. It is fitting, then, that this project has been one made successful by not just Fado Novato, but by all of you. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I can scarcely type this without crying to think of how grateful I am to everyone who has helped make this dream of our come true. When I wear these shawls in Lisbon, they will truly feel like an embrace from each and every one of you.
Most Sincerely,
Shay Estes
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