Semana Santa 2025
edición gruñona
We are in the throws of Semana Santa as we speak. Today is Viernes Santo – Good Friday – and Sevilla has just got through yet another Madrugá (the overnight processions) without too many delays and WITHOUT RAIN. Oleeee!
People always ask me about how I feel about Semana Santa (Easter Holy Week)... well, people. I mean those who come to visit during this time or who want me to comment in an article or podcast or whatever. How did you feel Shawn when you saw your first Semana Santa in Sevilla?
Can I tell you? I barely remember. I had already been overwhelmed that first Sevilla spring in 1994 by the blossoming of the azahar (orange blossom) which, contrary to local legend, almost never happens at the same time as Semana Santa. At the time I was living in Mateos Gago, literally a stone's throw from the Cathedral, so from my balcony I could pretty much see most of the processions that were exiting the Cathedral on a daily basis, as well as the few that actually came up or down my street. But I was told by friends that I needed to get out and experience the processions in the street and I was given very specific instructions about where to see this or that procession, what time, etc. And they were right – it really does make a difference.
What I do remember from back then was how magical it felt to be out in these massive crowds of (mostly) respectful and well-behaved (mostly) locals. Pre-cellphone days so, while there were a few people with cameras, myself included, there was more a sense of everyone actually participating in the processions. The music, the long lines of nazarenos (penitents), the candles and incense, and the beautiful statues atop ornate pasos (platforms) carried on the necks and shoulders of some 30 costaleros beneath. Some of the statues are priceless works of art depicting the various stations of the cross and followed by a weeping Virgin Mary. As an agnostic, though raised Catholic so I was familiar with much of the imagery, I realised that the splendour of Semana Santa could be enjoyed and appreciated on many different levels.
To give you an idea, this is the Santa Cruz procession returning home down my street. I was lucky enough to have the Virgin paso stop below my window each year around 1.00 am while the band played my favourite marcha, the haunting La Madrugá by Abel Moreno. Unbeknownst to me when I filmed this on my new iPhone 4 (2010) this would be my last time experiencing this as later that year my landlord kicked me out (after 18 years!) so that he could start renting the apartments to students and tourists. So while the visual quality of the video isn’t the best, the band sounds great and I recommend listening right to the end. It’s so beautiful.
I don't get out much during Semana Santa anymore, not since a couple of years before Covid started. It was starting to feel a bit too much, even for something that has always been over the top. But before it was over the top in its own distinctly sevilliano way. The heaving crowds, the long waits, the bustling between processions to see your favourite ones at the optimum location. Even today I looked out over my balcony and saw a group of well-dressed people about my age standing on the corner and looking at their little Semana Santa programmes, the ones we can pick up at any bar, deciding on where they were going to go next.
But sadly this is no longer the norm. Semana Santa in Sevilla has become a circus and is being sold to the highest bidders... those that can afford to pay for the high-priced seats along the Carrera Oficial (the route that all processions are obliged to take to the cathedral once they arrive in the city centre). Used to be that we would kind of scoff at these types as they only got to see the pasos from one perspective all week long whereas us locals knew where to go to experience the best Semana Santa moments.
I can’t remember when they started erecting barricades in front of the Cathedral, as well as in Plaza San Francisco and La Campana, with panels on top that prevented anyone not in the paid seated areas from seeing much. But we could still hang around the "main event" spots along the Carrera to catch a glimpse of this or that procession as they passed by.
This year around the cathedral I saw that the height of those barricade panels had been doubled... and so okay okay, we get the message. We are not welcome to join in one of our city's biggest celebrations.
Anyhow, today I went out mantilla hunting... love seeing the women dressed on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, so elegant with their black lace mantillas draped over a tall tortoise shell comb. I especially love the older women (some of the younger ones are in tight black mini-dresses with cut-away fronts like... wtf??). The idea is that the women are in mourning because Christ has died, which is a lovely tradition when done properly.
As I had to get deep into the Cathedral zone and my old neighbourhood Barrio Santa Cruz to catch the mantilla ladies out in force we ended up stopping in at Casa Román on the off chance they had a free table... and yes they did. Half an hour later the place was pretty much mobbed, so we got the timing just right and it was nice to have a table next to the open door.
On the way home we saw people already lining the streets waiting for the processions to begin. Now, when I say that there are way more people than before I’m not just talking about numbers, I’m talking about the massive number of people who come here with no understanding or appreciation of Semana Santa. I suppose some come to check it off their list, others to capture their perfect Insta moment… in any case they are here because for them this is a street show for their entertainment.
When I mentioned earlier that Semana Santa is starting to feel a bit too much, this is what I mean. That it no longer belongs to sevillanos, it has been turned into a tourist spectacle… not by sevillanos but by the powers that be. These hoards of tourists flocking to see the processions don’t know where they are going or why, they don’t know the etiquette: how to walk in a bulla (so important), when you can cross a street during a procession, when to be silent… and seriously, do they all have to be eating all the time?? This week I passed people sitting on beach chairs with tupperwares full of rice and other dishes, wielding massive bocadillos and with all manner of drinks in plastic bags.
Back in the day, yes of course, especially kids had their little bocadillos with them, but nobody was taking a full on picnic to a viewing site. Can I say once again, as a non-religious person, that I find this quite offensive. Because the people who are religious and are there to contemplate the misterios of their Semana Santa with the passing of the various processions are now having to deal with this bullshit.
I was once moved to tears watching El Cachorro, a magnificent work carved by Francisco Antonio Ruiz Gijón in 1682, pass by me so close I could touch the paso, and also so close that I could see every detail of the last breath of Christ, you could see and feel the torment and release, I’ll never forget that. And no, there’s no photo because I was too busy living that moment.
Yeah I know things change. And I’m often accused of just being a grumpy old lady (what??) complaining all the time. And hey I’m not even Spanish so who am I to criticise? Well, I admit to being old, and yes I can get grumpy at times, but I’ve lived half my life in Spain now. I think that counts for something. I’m an immigrant, not a (shudder) expat, and this is my home. So when I talk about Sevilla and Spain I always talk about us, not about “me and them”. And I think it totally sucks that Semana Santa is being taken from us and is becoming a full-on tourist spectacle.
And don’t even get me started on Feria! 😉
... and the sounds. I don't mean the music, but a couple of them that are uniques from my point of view. How sound a "Paso" when "costaleros" jump. "Señores, ¡ tós por igual !". And the "Paso" fall over their bodies with a strong "Boooomp!" Awesome.
And the silence. The profound silence. Maybe you're in Plaza del Salvador, and everybody is chatting happy, smoking and drinking, and arrives the image of their Christ. Lights off, absolute silence. Absolute. You can only listen the feet of costaleros heading to the church.
Even for an absolute atheist like me it's thrilling and full of emotion.
But I dare that these are quite old days. I remember from Semana Santa in the late '90s. Nowadays Sevilla... even smell quite different. You can close your eyes, walk along the old part of the town and cannot find any difference. Years (decades?) ago Sevilla was different even in its smell.
Kind regards.
Well count me in on the "grumpy old lady" crowd then. I, too, enjoy the spectacle of the occasion, not because I love a street parade (which I do) but because I practice the faith. I love the solemnity of the season and the reminder that we are all humans, prone to error and judgment, but that, ultimately, we are unconditionally loved and forgiven. So reaffirming and uplifting. What a shame that the capitalists have taken over the synagogues once again!