Jock Richardson

Friday 4 October: An Afternoon of Newcomers

Many years ago, when I was responsible for the publication of a taurine magazine, a man wrote a report for me of a feria in Valencia, but he justified the absence of a report on the day of a novillada because it was just a novillada, and he went sight-seeing instead of watching it. I was grateful for his report of the corridas but could not understand that an aficionado would eschew a novillada that was taking place in a town in which he was resident.

While the great and good of the Anglo Saxon afición are wallowing in the delights of the great figura-infested Feria de Otoño in Madrid, I find myself watching, among other things, novilladas in Zaragoza. But to watch novilleros, doing what I have been doing for nearly three quarters of a century – looking for the art of toreo – is no hardship. Besides, I have an abono here and my seat can still be reached on my gradually weakening limbs. I love the plaza.

Disappointment came early. The novillos announced were of Bernardino Píriz, a ganadería built on Cunhal Patricio Portuguese cattle from which I had not seen animals for nigh on 30 years. Three of them had been substituted by novillos of Hermanas Azcona. Had this Navarrese ganadería sent Navarrese cattle, I would have been delighted. But they breed Jandillas, the purest juampedros available. “Ho! Hum!”: as the man said.

Álvaro Molina is from the Escuela Taurina de Zaragoza and soon proved himself to be ill-prepared for novillos such as had been provided for him today. All six were of a substantial size and well-developed armament. And, though fundamentally noble, they were endowed with serious complications. Molina’s first tended to walk out at the end of the lance or pase, during which it had tended to hook and catch the lure. So, brief flashes of educated positioning and toreo templado were interspersed with novillo-chasing, lure-losing and a dreadful suerte de banderillas. After a session of single pase pegging, he killed with an estocada trasera y desprendida. His second novillo was manifestly invalid on entry, limping on buckling knees. It soon departed. The substitute was another Hnas Azcona. It was called ‘Belliscioso’, but looked mighty ordinary to me and must have felt mighty ornery to poor young Álvaro. His greeting had him retreating in each verónica until it was well advanced. Then, for a brief but beautiful moment, he stood still and performed a muy parado ending. Those clean and composed lances suggested that the lad at least knows the basics. Sejas’s quite was spoiled as the novillo had its first fall. This time the banderillas went well, Juan Contreras taking a salute. It took a full eight minutes of single pases, the novillero drawing back in every one, dropping of the lure and strolling round the bull, before the Damascus moment struck. He stood in front of the animal and took it through two series of close and templados derechazos, eyes focussed on the novillo’s horns, and followed through to precise endings in rising chest passes. This was toreo puro y eterno of the kind that always pleases. Álvaro did not realise the fact and was soon off into insecure estatuarios in which he was being begged by novillo and public to kill. It took him four pinchazos, the last a deep one, and an aviso before the novillo dropped. The applause was generous.

Nicanor Villalta was dubbed, “The telegraph pole of Aragón”. Whoever called him that would have to call David Sejas a modern electric windmill. He is enormously tall and towered above his first Bernardo Píriz. It was not long before he was demonstrating that he would rather be someone other than himself. He welcomed the novillo with a range of largas cambiadas de rodillas of varying worth and lost his lure in a brionesa at the end of them. It was all very spectacular. Sagarra’s walking chicuelinas in his quite omened well. This novillo was still charging nobly and the banderillas were a credit to Jesús Sanjuan and Tito. The distantly cited derechazos of the opening were spectacular, that being the type of toreo Sejas intended to bestow on us. That’s fine, “hay para todos”. Unfortunately, he also bestowed it on the animal and not all of them are as gullible as the public. This one took just a little of it before stalking off looking, one presumes, for something more interesting. To tell the truth, at one point Sejas forgot to drift out of himself and performed two series of naturales templados of which Domingo Ortega would have approved: cited de frente at the right distance, la suerte cargada with silken wrists, and the bull convinced. It was unconvinced when Sejas tried to do a Talavante-type arrucina and it was completely lost when, after a brilliant series of derechazos, he metamorphosed into his version of Daniel Luque and made a mess of the finale which in more experienced hands proves mastery over the bull. This novillo was not toreado - “dar pases no es torear” – and the kill took him an age of placing pinchazos. The second aviso had sounded before the novillo dropped and the bemused crowd of mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles and cousins persuaded the president to give him a benevolent ear. He tried to welcome his second, an Azcona, with a farol de rodillas at la portagayola. For some reason, he changed his mind as the bull thundered in and took it over the unplanned shoulder. Despite the mild tossing, he redeemed himself with a series of gracefully executed verónicas, ended with a generous, flowing, revolera. Sagarra’s delantales in his quite were neat and clean. The Azcona was improving. And when Sejas carefully encouraged it with long and gentle persuasive mid-height pases, he took advantage of the fact. Novillo and torero rose together in linked right and left-handed series of pases. This satisfying session ended with some pegged single derechazos. The botched kill was not the result of bad toreo during the faena. Sejas was merely incompetent at the supreme moment; he tried with all his heart to place an estocada, but he needed a pinchazo and a pinchazo hondo to end the matter.

Lorién Sagarra is from la Escuela Taurina de Mares de Nubes de Zaragoza. His Bernardo Píriz was, at first, bronco, and then, as things unfolded, very halt indeed. Sagarra brought it under some control with slow verónicas, rhythmically performed, and all looked well. When it came to the banderillas, the bull was standing stock still. Segarra was not about to stray into danger. ‘Lesson 1. Vocabulary’ in the Seas of Clouds guidebook must concentrate on “fuera de cacho”, “despegado” and “pico de la muleta”. These defects marked his faena. The pases were templados and complete but effected from ill-judged cite positions. With all the irony of a badly constructed faena behind him and the bull deprived of toreo in front of him, he cited for the kill en corto y por derecho and placed a brilliant estocada. He cut an ear. The last novillo, a negro mulato animal of impressive appearance, was welcomed with a cornucopia of lances delivered with enthusiasm and commitment. Molino tried a quite but lost his lure and was driven towards the boards, his composure completely gone. Sagarra opened the final tercio with a tanda of ayudados por alto and then proceeded in carefully calculated style to try and build a faena. It was, as they say, a big ask. The bull was very quick on the turn, had horns ever ready to hook and was just a shade above Sagarra’s pay grade. Still, he worked hard, and when he was not losing his lure, being bumped by the novillo, or tossed, he created a few series of linked and controlled pases. It took him a long time to align the animal and his kill took ages: three pinchazos before an estocada baja and an aviso. For all his problems, we may see Sagarra again.

And we did. I have always had a bee in my bonnet about boy toreros who seem to have been adopted as future saviours of la Fiesta. The most outstanding current example is young Marco Pérez whose name was mentioned frequently on One Toro TV and whom we often saw escorted by Juan Bautista and advertised in montajes with matadores de toros or mano a manos with other novilleros. His trajectory seemed quite different to me from that of those below him in the escalafón who must fight their way to the top in local competitions and in the big novillada ferias like Algemesí, Arnedo, Arganda del Rey and Villaseca de la Sagra. I have not seen hide nor hair of him in any of them. As we entered our chosen restaurant that night, there was a long table set up for a party. It gradually filled up and I asked my compañera if the man in the brown jacket was the one we had seen shouting to Sagarra over the barrera as he fought his last bull. She confirmed. By the time the table was full, Sagarra fell, to shouts of “¡Torero!”, “¡Torero!”, “¡Torero!”, into the loving arms of his family, friends and supporters. There was not a famous taurino among them, but it seemed a very healthy way to start a taurine career.

Saturday 5: Another Farewell for Enrique Ponce

“I know he is not your favourite torero”. Thus did a gentleman write in his dedication in the gift he made me of the book he had helped prepare on Enrique Ponce. Only in a sense was he correct. Enrique Ponce was not my favourite torero just like every other one is not my favourite torero. I have never had a favourite torero and will never have one. I judge each one according to my understanding of toreo at the time on what he does on any one day with any one bull. I have seldom had occasion to feel satisfied by the toreo of Enrique Ponce. Occasionally, I have.

Today was to be the last of the farewell corridas I would see of Enrique Ponce. Though he is as loved here as he is everywhere, the plaza was only 2/3 full to say goodbye. That is not a bad entry for a corrida here, but inappropriate for a great event. We had all the usual preliminaries to such occasions and Enrique was Enrique with his first bull: casual in approach, trotting away endlessly during the cape work, each lance good-looking but marred by the inter pase marathons. He was not aided by his attractive looking playero colorado Juan Pedro, which, though it complied in varas, was soon standing, tired and uncertain, before the banderilleros. Somehow, they managed to get it off the spot three times, and the two of them, Victor del Pozo and Fernando Sánchez, won salutes. The faena comprised single pase after single pase, often cited from fuera de cacho with the muleta retrasada, and punctuated by the Ponce trot away to the next cite position. Enrique Ponce was demonstrating why he has continued not to convince me for 36 years. With an, “It’s not my fault” shrug, he took the real sword and entered directly to place an estocada.

His second bull was a 629 kilo negro mulato of heart-stopping appearance. It was welcomed with a series of verónicas by a completely different Enrique Ponce. He stood still, controlled cape and bull throughout every lance templado with a commitment that radiated from him. It took two firm pics at the horse’s chest and co-operated handsomely with the banderilleros. To me, the conviction came most from that commitment and from the way Ponce was toreando with his whole body: torso, waist, head, wrist and rooted feet all brought to bear on a faena as varied as it was inspired. Molinetes, cambiados de mano, pases por bajo, trincherillas and a huge series of poncinas at the end adorned a faena of mainly naturales that were complete from cite to remate, all done in a small area and all a demonstration of what can be created when the right man meets the right bull. Ponce ended his personal farewell hymn – it was all performed to the accompaniment of and in the rhythm of La Concha Flamenca – with a heroic entry for an estocada desprendida. The second ear was un regalo but not excessive in the circumstances. Enrique Ponce had done well!

Emilio de Justo’s first bull was 55 kilos heavier than had been Ponce’s first. Had it been the same weight, it would have looked like a clone. In colour, conformation and horn shape, it was identical. It took a while for de Justo to bring its distracted behaviour under control, but when he did, it was to perform close and beautiful, complete verónicas. The immaculate brega of El Algabeño and the perfectly placed pairs of Morenito de Arles and Pérez Valcarcel – we live in a golden age of banderilleros – added to the excitement. The bull had a tricky right horn which de Justo never managed to master. His early pases were cited for from huge distances which tended to make them sporadic, and he settled to naturales cited from a short distance and linked in series too late in the faena. Worst of all, he needed a pinchazo, a low sword and three descabellos to kill the bull as the aviso sounded.

Clearly determined to please, Emilio strode to la portagayola to greet the fifth. It thundered through a well-constructed lance some feet above ground, carrying its black enshrouded 529 kilos very lightly. The welcome continued in the middle of the ring: five close and spectacular chicuelinas, four one-handed largas, and a recorte like the one in the Goya plate. Finally, he walked the bull to the horse with six perfectly measured chicuelinas andantes. The bull took two pics, properly positioned each time, and Morenito positioned the bull in his parsimonious style with perfection for another three accurate placements of banderillas. De Justo seemed a little confused to me: did he want to please the crowd, or did he want to appeal to aficionados? He did a bit of both, which marred the work a little for me. I should be grateful for the good bits: series of pases cited from a crossed position with the lure advanced and taken through the phases of cargar la suerte and remate with flawless rhythm and harmony, the pases por bajo ended with a long chest pase near the end – the very toreo puro with which de Justo makes me believe he is one of the toreros with most torería on the escalafón. And I should be generous about the more frivolous phases: the cites from a huge distance de rodillas, the successions of single good-looking pases with each hand. His estocada was well-entered and the bull dropped quickly. He had known very well how to get his ear.

It seems an awful long time since we saw Jorge Isiegas for the first time in the hand-made ring of Algemesí and here in his native country as a budding matador. Today he was substituting for Tristán Barroso, whose absence I hope will be explained in tomorrow’s papers. Two things are for sure: Isiegas should have been given a place in this feria in his own right and he was about to prove why. His first bull was a 542 kilo chestnut as handsome as its cousins. There was no welcoming cape work, but Isiegas took the bull to the horse with the care of a man performing heart surgery; without an excessive move, he took the bull to the correct position twice for El Legionario to place two perfectly measured pics. His quite between pics ended with a recorte into exactly the right place. This was the work of a mature and intelligent matador who not only knew the rules but how to apply them. Gómez Escorial and Mario Campillo furthered the demonstration of the qualities of this fine bull with their banderillas. By the start of the second series with the muleta, the lure was in the left hand offIsiegas and the strains of Puerta Grande were ringing forth. Series after series of complete and linked naturales segued seamlessly through an almost imperceptible cambio de mano into derechazos of similar quality. Every one of the individual series was started with the matador de frente en el frente and the bull was never more than a hairsbreadth from the matador’s body. If attention strayed, which is doubtful, it must have been pulled back with the spectacle of his afarolado. We might have been forgiven for thinking that Jorje Isiegas could do no wrong. Fired, no doubt, with adrenalin and success he failed to align the bull properly and its front feet were very far apart as he threw himself over the horn. He hit bone. He got things right in his second attempt and placed an estocada. He had earned his ear, and the bull had earned its applause as it was dragged out. His enthusiasm and good sense unabated, Jorge Iglesias welcomed his 576 kilo negro mulato with a gentle series of verónicas and a larga. In contrast with his first suerte de varas, this time the picador rode the horse over the line twice. It charged nobly for a first pic from a distance, took a second, light one, then, at the President’s insistence, took a touch after a long charge. The bull was heading ominously for the toriles before the first pair of sticks but the peones managed get it encouraged into three noble entries. Juan Cantora proved how deeply in the embroque he had been to place the third pair by taking a huge thump in the chest by the bull’s snout. The faena was orthodox with few frills – there were some doblones de rodillas to start, some smooth cambios de mano here and there, and a molinete linked to a chest pase halfway through, but the rest was made up of clean, linked, rhythmic pases with each hand. The calculated demeanour with which Isiegas unfolded his work and the mathematical precision of his cite positioning was intelligent and mature. I thought he was over-egging his cake somewhat towards the end of the faena, but the bull was still charging, the crowd was on his side, and he was revelling in his success. He deserved forgiveness. But the clock has no sentiment. He killed as the aviso sounded with a thrust from an honest entry that cut something and caused blood to flow from the bull’s mouth. It fell quickly and the first ear was unanimously called for. The petition for the second was almost as widespread and it went on for a long time. But the president was not for turning.

Sunday 6 – Three figuras, a full plaza, bulls that charge – are we entitled to ask for More?

Sébastien Castella, as I have seen him this temporada, has impressed with a new maturity and seriousness that were not there before he took his holiday. He met a mixed bunch of Núñez del Cuvillo bulls today. His first weighed 603 kilos, way above the average for the corrida. Castella welcomed it with a larga cambiada de rodillas, some close verónicas and a handful of one-handed largas. It was an impressive start and engendered confidence. Then the horses appeared, and the bull went wild. It attacked a picador as he entered the ring, knocked horse and picador to the ground in front of the other horse and created chaos. It eventually attacked the picador in the contraquerencia and persisted nobly under the iron. Castella wanted the suerte changed, indicating that the incident in the gateway had constituted punishment enough. The president, whose raison d’etre seems to be to refuse every plea, especially those for second ears, demanded another. Clearly, it was only touched when it entered for the second pic. In this case, the director de la lidia trumped the president. The bull had by no means settled. As Rafael Viotti emerged from a spectacular pair of sticks, he was caught and sent flying. He deserved his salute. Castella was not about to surrender to this crazy bull yet. He opened his faena pressed against the boards beneath the presidency, passing the bull with pases por alto that left him very little room to escape. A brave matador against a bad-tempered manso is always interesting. And so it was for the rest of the faena. The main danger was the raising of the head and the wild hooking of the horns. All Castella could do was administer single pases in a duel to the death. Castella was bound to win, but it took a great deal of exposure and raw taurine knowledge to bring this store house of trouble to a state in which he could enter to kill. When he did, it was to place two pinchazos and an estocada.

The fourth bull, Campanito, a negro mulato at 523 kilos, had a much more acceptable weight. Castella tested it with some gentle verónicas before it headed off on a distracted tour of the ring. It was soon brought to the horse and Castella signalled his intentions by having it very lightly picced indeed. It co-operated well with the banderilleros, and Castella started his faena by citing in los medios for pases de espaldas in a huge sequence ended with a chest pase and two trincherillas so slow, so controlled and so beautiful that the clock stopped, only to be started again by a long, measured chest pass. It was terrific stuff. But we had seen nothing yet. The linked derechazos that followed were complete in every sense and just the right overture to the ever-tightening, increasingly exposed, short pases of the arrimón that proved Castella’s mastery of the bull. I found it all to be a little mechanical, crowd-pleasing and lacking in soul. But the public are the senior court and, as the manoletinas piled on each other and the trumpet solo of Dávila Miura rang out, they were on their feet willing the man towards the perfect estocada which, when it came, and it did come, would allow them to give the Frenchman two ears and the main gate of the Misericordia.

José Maria Manzanares drew a noble little bull in first place and dealt with it in his customary style. He welcomed it with smooth, clean, verónicas rounded off with a larga. The bull took the first pic well and was way over-punished in the second. Fortunately, it was still strong enough to charge the banderilleros nobly. It would be a dishonest critic who did not recognise Manzanares’s ability to build rhythmical flowing pases in long series, to create beautiful pases, and frequently to kill well. All these virtues were present today. Unfortunately, he can create his convincing pases from so far fuera de cacho, so far from the bull, so despegado and of such linear structure, that man and bull are scarcely together. The beauty of his orthodox passes masked the fact that what we were watching was toreo de salón with the torero in Zaragoza and the bull somewhere up near Huesca. His pinchazo was deep and tendido but killed the bull quickly. He was awarded an ear.

Manzanares opened to the fifth, another negro mulato at 502 kilos (just as the stud book orders), with low, testing verónicas, smooth and sweet as a breakfast beverage, followed by just as smooth chicuelinas. The bull was placed properly before the horse twice and Diego Vicente and Luis Cebadera provided yet another super-league suerte de banderillas. Whether or not Manzanares had been sucked into the embroque by the example of his companions de cartel is not clear, but he had somehow discovered the frontal cite, the embroque and the courage to get into it. All of which was wonderful, but only partly successful because his bull was weak and lacking in recorrido. He was forced into single pases and rest periods by the weakness of the bull. What he was able to produce was effective and pleasing to watch, but not what anyone in or out of the ring wanted. When it came to the kill, he placed a full estocada at the second attempt. Surprisingly, there was but a weak petition. The saludos were just.

Blanquito was a tall, handsome, Álvaro Núñez: red with white horns and partridge eyes. Talavante welcomed it with some quiet, gentle, testing verónicas which demonstrated the bull’s tendency to distraction and Talavante’s determination to keep it focussed. It took him a while. Miguel Ángel Muñoz kept the bull in the peto for a long time, dancing the carioca and tapando la salida. A quite of flat delantales was successful, but the attempt at a larga cordobesa after the second, light, pic ended in an enganche. The light at the end of the tunnel came in banderillas. Javier Ambel placed a couple of perfect pairs and Talavante was off. The early naturales were gentle, coaxing and linked, but just a little distant; the second series brought the bull in closer and lowered its head farther. The band was off into Nerva – I recognise the pasodobles not by reading the information panel in the plaza, but because they are my accompaniment when I use my rowing machine – and Talavante into a lesson on what the pase natural should be: lure advanced in the embroque, the bull drawn slowly round the man’s body so close that they are one fused entity for the eternity of a pase that is carried through to fusion with the next one in a movement as natural as the name of the pass. Talavante did not need to start looking up at the crowd, milking them like mad in the rest periods, but it is his way, and he does it with a winning smile. Besides, he soon restored the dignity of the faena when he started toreando again. He ended his work of art with some naturales with his feet together, sealed its perfection with some very close manoletinas and a deep trench pass, and placed an estocada corta which assured a slow death. As Manuel Izquierdo stood poised with dagger shining and the ring of Ambel and Montes tried to bring the bull down, the second ear drifted away. No matter, Talavante had earned it in addition to the one he got and the importance of the faena will not fade.

The sixth bull was weak but pliable and it retained its strength just enough in the first two suertes to cooperate in some clean and sensible welcoming verónicas; two beautifully set up light varas and yet another satisfying suerte de banderillas. The noble weakling needed treatment by a matador enfermero and that is what it got. With care, patience and skill, Talavante drew out the little it had in it with slow and gentle derechazos and naturales. It could not last for long and it ended with a few tight pases to align and an estocada baja of fulminant effect. It had not been a bad afternoon.

Monday 7 – The rains came; the Raso del Portillos stayed away

The cartel announced that the novillos today would be from Machamona and Raso de Portillo. The latter have the honour of being one of, if not the, oldest recorded ganadería in Spain. I have met members of the family who own it but have never seen their products perform. I did not see them today; they did not pass the reconocimiento. So, they were replaced by three more Machamonas, Santa Colomas of pure Buendía descent. That was scarcely an arrow through the heart of an aficionado. One does not see many Santa Colomas these days.

‘Cristalino’, the first, was a cárdeno bragado specimen slightly over-weight at 538 kilos. Valentín Hoyos welcomed it with some clean and effective verónicas, but it was soon showing signs of its lack of focus. The lad put the novillo en sitio before the horse and although Alberto Sandoval had to cross the line in the second cite, the bull charged well and took its punishment eagerly. The way the novillo was positioned, the length and eagerness of its charges and the masterful work of Sandoval made it a truly great suerte de varas. The novillo charged well for the banderilleros also. It continued to charge honestly as Hoyos built a faena based on orthodox pases, drawing the bull low around him in linked series using each hand. Only once, in a derechazo towards the end, was there an enganche. Two things marred the performance: he went on for too long, a perfectly understandable error for a lad desperate to succeed and accompanied by a bull which had charged for him for 10 minutes, and he needed a pinchazo and an estocada to kill just as the aviso sounded. It is 10 years to the day since we watched Varea indultó ‘Quejoso’ of Los Maños, the first novillo ever indultado in la Misericordia. Both Varea and Pepe Marcūello, the founder of the ganadería and the then owner, were in the tendido of Section 5 and took a standing ovation before the fifth novillo entered. Most of we abonados here had been there on that day. This animal was a little (a lot) less encastado than had been ‘Quejoso’. It jumped the barrera soon after it entered. Some long, low, sweeping verónicas from Hoyos brought it under control for a few seconds before it was off again. It surprised in the pics, taking two nicely measured light varas, the second with a deal of effort and much hooking with the head. This partially willing manso surprised in the second suerte also, allowing brilliant pairs from Juan José Domínguez and Pablo García so pleasing that they won salutes. By now, the bull was very stationary, and, though Hoyos tried hard to draw pases from it, he was merely going through the motions and the work had neither heart nor depth. It was interesting to observe the behaviour of the crowd: at first, they were encouraging and positive towards the boy, and they gradually grew edgy and contrary as he began to bore them. Everyone was relieved when he killed with a media estocada.

‘Prisionero’ was another cárdeno bragado and, though lighter than ‘Cristalino’ at 465 kilos, looked very similar. When focussed, it turned very quickly; most of the time it was distracted and fleeing. Miguel Andrade is short of stature and very tall in ambition. He was not going to let this cowardly, yet noble, beast escape his form of art readily. He saw to it that it got two light pics and picked up the banderillas. There were two cuarteos to the left heading towards the boards more successful for their spectacle than their accuracy. The third pair al quiebro was more desperate than dignified; the boy was trying hard. By now, the novillo was growing tired and tended to stand its ground. Andrade managed to draw two series each of close and templados derechazos and naturales before the lure was snatched from his hand. This was pleasing stuff with a far from perfect novillo. The impetus had gone and all that remained were very quick, close, aligning flaps before a first attempt in which he hit bone and lost the sword and an estocada at the second attempt. The 15 minutes had been filled with good intent, thwarted by an uncooperative novillo and, probably, a measure of neophyte incompetence.

Miguel was off to the portagayola to welcome ‘Cariñoso’, a strange name, I thought, for a novillo, sight unseen. His larga cambiada was brilliantly executed, the novillo focused and passing close to his shoulder. The next three largas done in mid ring went up the scale to the very summit of largesse. The tight chicuelinas with which he ended this ragged but exciting overture had the audience as hot as he was and uplifted to their feet. In all the excitement, the novillo was allowed to run free and nearly started another lío in la puerta de caballos. Many hands were needed to resolve the emergency. Andrade took over and walked the bull to the horse with chicuelinas andantes done with great skill. His recorte to put it en sitio was just plain cheeky. The long pic was willingly taken as was the second, the picador having crossed the line in the cite. The banderillas were three lightning flashes: a cuarteo right to a near pinning to the boards; a frantic cuarteo to the right, and a perilous cuarteo por dentro from which he missed being pinned to the barrera with a butterfly flutter over the barrier. ¡Wow! Andrade was not finished. He dedicated to the audience. The faena was opened with estatuarios, pases de espaldas and a long chest pase. The animal was slowing down now, no wonder, and Andrade had to work. He was in the business of cutting ears rather than creating art. But it needs technique to get pases from a tombstone. Andrade crossed to the opposite horn, he faced the novillo de frente and it charged for him. His commitment was complete and his technique appropriate, and though the pases came singly, they were in themselves pleasing to look at. By the end, he was using his entire body to add depth to the pases and the whole transmitted directly to the tendidos. He needed a spectacular kill to end his saga. And he got it with a directly entered explosive estocada. He fell as he ran out of the suerte and the novillo, still not quite dead, was off after him, knocking him to the ground and treading all over him.  There was a session of football player acting as he rolled, apparently on death’s doorstep, in agony on the sand. He was not even limping when, seconds later, he carried his ear round the ring.

Bruno Aloi is from Mexico and has been around Spain for a while. He welcomed his first Machamona with some spectacular loose verónicas marred only by the final enganche. The cárdeno bragado ‘Escandalosa’ took two medium pics, the second in the same hole as the first. The quite of verónicas in the quite were strangely cold and lacking in spirit. The suerte de banderillas was scrappy, but the early naturales, slow, close and linked, won applause. This was good stuff. This lad positions himself well, imparts a personal stamp, tending to the classical, on his toreo, and, when in full flight, oozes torería. There was none of the normal Mexican flamboyance or exuberance in his toreo today; it was cool and calculated. He does think on his feet. At one point in this faena, his lure was snatched from his hands and landed at his feet; he knelt and made it look as if all had been done intentionally as part of his desplante. The faena was built on series of derechazos and naturales. The novillo was slow to move, so Bruno had time to build tension in the rest periods and to set up for the next series. As the faena developed, he was accompanying the novillo with head, upper body and arms with a rare intensity and obvious commitment. As it drew to its serene end, all that was needed was a good kill. Everyone saw that the novillo’s front legs were far too far apart and many told him so. Why he did not take time and align the bull properly, we will never know. He placed a pinchazo and the long parade to the toriles ensured that handkerchiefs were stuffed back in pockets.

The black Santa Coloma that entered in sixth place was manifestly lame; the president was the last person in the plaza to notice. The sobrero was 501 kilos worth of Hnas Azcona. A handsome chestnut with a golden mouth and magnificent armament, it was pure Jandilla in appearance. Its mansismo was soon apparent. The lances in the greeting were mere flaps and we had yet another messy entry of the cavalry with ‘Almendrito’’s half-hearted attack on them in the gateway. There was no pic in the first entry, and the only merit in the second was the long charge the novillo made from an accidental position in mid-ring. The charges to the banderilleros were noble enough and Ignacio Martín placed two accurate and spectacular pairs: the brightest thing so far. Bearing in mind the poor qualities of the toro, Bruno Aloi did very well with his faena. He started with pases de espaldas de rodillas – rather frivolous I thought - before imparting that grace, technique and toreria already hinted at to a faena of orthodox pases. His elegance, commitment, positioning and that personal involvement in the action, head, arms, and torso all brought into the technique, signalled to the grateful audience that he had found toreo. He spoiled it all by going on and on; there were some elegant but unnecessary bernadinas, for example, way beyond the “best by” date on the label. The bull’s attention was lost, the pinchazo hondo required use of the descabello and yet another ear was gone. We have not seen the last of Bruno Aloi.

Tuesday 8 – Three star novilleros get three star novillos

It has always been a feature of the Feria del Pilar that animals announced in the carteles fail to pass the reconocimiento and must be substituted by others. The local press makes much of it in their grumbling about how lack-lustre the carteles are and how unreliable are the ganaderos who send their cattle. Is it any big deal that two Talavante Núñez de Cuvillos must be substituted by two Hermanas Azcona Jandillas? Discuss!

That happened with the first and the ‘Señorito’ of the Azcona sisters emerged. It was handsome enough but had weak legs and was hooking dangerously upwards in the welcoming flapped verónicas. Alejandro Chicharro had a difficult task ahead of him. Although the novillo fell under the horse, it had to take a long, low, hard, pic; it fell under the horse in the second pic also. Surprisingly, it charged honestly to the banderilleros in a pleasing tercio. It did not surprise either that the bull was now tired, erratic and throwing its horns around in all directions. Chicharro set out to do what he must have felt he had to do: extract pases from a tricky manso. Why he needed to do that until nigh on the crack of doom never became clear, but he went on for a long time in a routine of right and left-handed pases that ranged from the frontally cited linked series en redondo to the linear runs delivered from fuera de cacho. It was as if he was following some pre-written choreography, to depart from which would incur some dreadful punishment. He was certainly punishing the audience. It was dull, predictable and soporific. When the kill came, those still awake finally looked up from their phones.

The fourth bull was a colorado from Talavante. Chicharro welcomed it with a huge but accurate larga cambiada de rodillas in the tercios and then let it run free for too long. It somersaulted once he had caught its attention in some verónicas. The bull took its first huge puyazo with tremendous verve, pushing man and horse along the barrera, but fell twice in its second encounter. We might have been forgiven for forecasting a repeat of the first faena - a desperate novillero trying to torear a difficult and weakening novillo. But! Chicharro took it to los medios and gave it five immaculate, slow, gaoneras and the banderilleros took advantage of the bull’s returning strength to create a stellar suerte. By the time the music started, Chicharro had opened the faena with pases de espaldas and a complete series of elegant derechazos. The novillo tended to run out of the pases before the series ended, forcing Chicharro to refocus it sporadically. This gave the faena a kind of staccato feel, which was a pity because the series of passes were started from appropriate distances, templados in their rhythm, clean and complete in structure till the spell was broken by the fleeing novillo. It is not often that the word “flawless” appears in my notes. It did in the middle of this faena. The temporada draws to its end; Chicharro is heading towards the alternativa; he cannot give up. He went on for too long, ending eventually with some serene low naturales. His kill was prompt from an estocada desprendida. The ear was just a little generous.

Cristiano Torres drew a Talavante bull in second place. It was extremely distracted and little of note happened until the banderilleros got it focussed in the second suerte. It was a noble beast, and Torres squeezed as much nobility from it as he could with complete and linked series with both hands. These were meritorious because the novillo was soon growing tired and it had to be encouraged to cooperate. Torres got his teeth into his task and went on trying to make the weakling help him to a triumph. It was a waste of time, so, after a laborious alignment, the temporary loss of his lure, and a ¾ sword that sufficed, he felt able to take a vuelta. Nobody objected. ‘Endiosado’, a black bull from Azcona, exploded the myth of the fifth bull not being bad. Insofar as any bull can be placed on a scale of virtue from bad to good, something I believe to be ridiculous – a bull is a bull is a bull and every one has its qualities and traits and every one has its lidia – this one could just have squeezed in just below the middle. It was bronco and, following some testing verónicas ended with a lovely low media verónica, Torres lost his lure in the brega. The novillo left two light pics readily and charged the banderillas willingly. The novillero was on his knees for the first two, spectacular, derechazos and the bull dropped to its knees in the first pedestrian derechazo. There were a few linear derechazos before Torres noticed that he was seeking water from a dry well. He resorted to the close arrimón of apparently dangerous – almost half of the aforo was filled for this star-filled novillada, and though the afición is well-informed here, there were enough in the tendidos to be convinced by the slow, tight, circulares cited with the muleta retrasada or with the back turned on the animal or the desplante in the embroque with the horns preferably stroked or some or all of these time consuming things. Once Torres had killed with an estocada entera from an honest entry, there were enough who wanted him to get the ear he had worked for so hard.

‘Duque’, the third novillo, was from the Azcona sisters. The overture with this novillo was interesting. There were a few flat verónicas to start and, as it entered for varas, the pic slipped out twice from light prods. The novillo fell as it departed from the second pic and again after an ineffective flap of the cape. And then, for what seemed like an eternity and was probably a couple of minutes, the animal stood stock still, ignoring every attempt to move it. So, we were watching a weak manso de solemnidad with no urge to participate in the lidia. I tell this sad story to pose the question: should the president have obeyed the pleas of the audience and removed the novillo far sooner, or was he correct to leave it in the ring and allow whatever could be made of it to occur? The replacement was a handsome melocotón bull of Talavante, pure Núñez de Cuvillo in appearance. Javier Zulueta caught it early and marched it to the middle of the ring with advancing verónicas that were clean, close templados and oozing positivity. Twice the novillo was placed en sitio and neither time was the pic strong. The suerte de banderillas was also gentle and undemanding. Zulueta started his faena with six derechazos and a short chest pase. This noble manso was true to its de Cuvillo ancestry: honest, head-lowering, and cooperative. Zulueta’s faena was just what it required. Sober and structured according to los cánones, the tandas came one after another, marred only slightly by readjusting trots between some of the pases. There was little in the way of decoration, though a pase de las flores stood out just before a finale of two beautifully structured series of naturales. This had been a faena for a reward. Zulueta needed a pinchazo before his estocada and what he got was a vuelta made by his own choice.

It took the Sevillian some time to flap ‘Niñote’, a trim black Talavante novillo at 476 kilos, into obedience, but he managed it with sporadic flaps of his cape. It took one long pic too far back and, placed a huge distance from the horse, made an epic charge for a mere touch. The banderillas were placed without fuss and with a minimum of positioning flaps. The virtues of this novillo had been noticed and the team were bringing it to the faena in good condition. That is not to say that Robles forwent the opportunity to run it one-handed across the ring in an example of perfect brega. Zaragoza is one of the last ferias of the year and often the venue for the last appearance of a matador in the temporada. The pleasant little ceremony of the dedication of thanks to the marshalled team often happens here. And so it did at the end of Zulueta’s successful season. The faena opened with five kneeling doblones as clean as they were controlling, the images created memorable. This noble animal had a silken left horn and Zulueta used it to produce series after series of low, linked, close and very templados naturales. Only once, when he resorted to delivering circulares invertidos did the shine on the jewel fade. The vulgarity lasted for but a moment and the finale comprised three more series of textbook pases delivered with confidence and personality. With the novillo carefully aligned and a perfectly direct entry, he placed a pinchazo. An afternoon in which he might have cut four ears ended with an estocada and a single ear. He could go far.