What is the price of legacy? What is the cost associated with accessing information? And does it make you a better artist than someone else if you can pay to access it? Or is the information that you get for free or low cost less accurate or less valuable because anybody can get it?
These are all questions that I have been asking myself for a while as both a student and practitioner of several arts that come with a hefty ticket price for accessing learning.
In the last post in the Aire Libre series on Flamenco and how it exists in the US, I commented on a recent reflection by an unnamed colleague on how “flamenco is for rich people”. This sentiment struck a nerve with many, who reached out to me privately about the frustration they felt at how much time, effort, and finances they had spent on developing their craft with how little investment in their return there had been for them. Others reflected on the disappointment that the art form in America was entirely inaccessible to low-income learners outside of access via public education— but noted that once these young students were outside of the school system, they more than likely would never access the art form again.
For the rest of us, there is a silent contract we make with ourselves and this practice: I will never sit down and do the math on how much I have spent since I began my training. Doing this sort of budget exercise would set in a sobering reality of how much they’ve spent over the years. Instead, we shift our focus to the community-building efforts this investment in our practice creates for us: friendships, comradery, lovers, collaborators, colleagues, and mentorship.
This is the true value of this investment: maintaining and sustaining a community, the longevity of this tradition, and the relationships we develop with others. Which brings me back to my question initially: What is the price of legacy?
I ask this because I recently had a strong and friendly debate after it came to be known that some of the Spaniards from “well-known families” coming to NYC for the Flamenco Festival would be offering workshops that ranged from $75 - $80 per student for an hour-long group class. A wave of anger and frustration washed over me as my mouth dropped to the floor when I heard how much these “family legacy” artists would be charging.
Legacy and lineage are about what continues moving forward after the originators move on to the next realm, right? So, the people who continue carrying the family legacies are doing so intending to be the keepers of certain ideas, practices, or learnings. Everyone who studies flamenco becomes a part of some legacy or some lineage, especially if they are working under a specific mentor or mentors that they see regularly or semi-regularly.
These “vende pasos” workshops that get brought over from Spain have very little to do with carrying on a lineage or teaching something so clandestine and secretive that the only way to learn them is with these so-called “family legacy” artists; it is not going to change your life in a profound way.
They come, they teach you maybe a short choreography of overly complicated things that most people can’t do, and then they leave, and they never think about you again. You are just another foreigner who can be charged 4x as much as they would charge in Spain. They don’t know your name or your story, and they don’t care. And we are told that “this is the way it must be, and how benevolent of these masters from the name-a-family to have come to share the ‘essence’ of their family’s art and legacy with you, and now because you are bathed in the light of their greatness, you are one step closer to being a ‘real’ flamenco.”
$75 - $80 for class is outrageous and offensive. That is one week— maybe two— of groceries IF you don’t have children or a family to feed. That is one month of a Con Edison bill, that is a phone bill, that is Wi-Fi, water, and other bills. That is a senior discounted unlimited monthly metro card, credit card, and loan debt, that is the cost of some medicines, diapers, formula— I could keep going on, but you catch my drift.
Maybe some people can justify this amount of money for a class, and people can spend their money how they want. If you are a fan of these artists and you feel that taking their class is akin to taking the “red pill”, then do it. May it take you to the next level of the flamenco matrix.
Legacy is about investment, community, and what lingers on after, which brings me back to my previous point: we are all a part of someone’s legacy; a teacher, mentor, friend, or otherwise has invested in you— and you in them— to continue the legacy of this tradition. You’re in their classes, having breakfast with them, sharing memes, and going deep into esoteric and messy theory. They know your name, your kids’ names, your partners, your cats, your plants, and you know theirs. They know that you can hit the high note but get derailed easily and off compas. They know that you’re stronger on your left but execute certain things better on your right. They buy you cupcakes on your birthday and drag you up to dance at their gigs during sevillanas and fin de fiestas. They ask you to sing letras or do palmas for them.
These are the “Legacy” artists that are deserving of monetary investment. They’re not going to charge $80 a class to study with them— hell, they might even let you take parts of their classes for free. They will sit with you until you get it right and push you when they know that you can do more. They care, and to them, you are not just “another foreigner” to make a buck on, you are a part of their legacy that will continue. This is why we choose to spend our money and enter silent and unspoken contracts about the cost: because the value of these relationships and the legacy we become a part of weaves us into a tapestry of our community that will exist after we are back to dust— and THAT value that is priceless.