Miguel de Molina, the great Spanish artist who was also a popular idol among us, died in his house in Belgrano three decades ago, exactly on March 4, 1993, victim of a heart attack. He was buried in the Pantheon of the Actors, in the Chacarita.
His name had returned to the foreground shortly before when "Las cosas del querer" – the unforgettable film by Jaime Chavarri – recreated his artistic moves and the persecutions he suffered during the Franco regime.
Although, as often happens in these cases, Miguel de Molina already away from the atmosphere of the show, did not want to know anything with the film, starring Manuel Bandera and another wonderful Molina, Angela.
These days, returns among us "Miguel de Molina al desnudo", another well-deserved tribute, the one-man show with the Spanish artist Angel Ruiz.
Return home
The name and work of Miguel de Molina revived in his country through several musicals, Chavarri's film had its second stage, set in Buenos Aires), the publication of his memoirs "Botín de guerra" and exhibitions such as "Arte y provocación" of 2009 in Madrid, as well as an exhibition at the Recoleta Cultural Center.
The current staging at the Teatro del Picadero – directed by Félix Estaire and the musical preparation of César Belda – raises an eventual return of Miguel de Molina to Spain that expelled him in 42 and in a press round (fantasy) the artist reveals "all his truth".
But the songs that turned Miguel de Molina – between tradition and avant-garde – into a revolutionary of the copla also resurface. The show was presented a decade ago at the Teatro Infanta Isabel, in Madrid, and last year in Buenos Aires.
"Being able to show the show in the country that welcomed him and made him so happy, is like being able to give Miguel the opportunity to thank the Argentine public for their affection," Ruiz said.
Scene from the play "Miguel de Molina al desnudo", starring Angel Ruiz.
A corner of Malaga
Born Miguel Frías Molina on April 10, 1908 in the neighborhood of Capuchinos, in Malaga, he said that this happened "in a Spain in which Alfonso XIII reigned and in an Andalusia in which those who ruled were poverty, hunger, landowners and ignorance.
In Madrid I learned from the masters of singing and dancing in the mythical Villa Rosa in the Plaza de Santa Ana. It was in 1931 when I was awakened by the idea of going on stage as an artist of Andalusian dance and song. Manuel de Falla, Laura de Santelmo, Lamote de Grignon, Tony Triana, mi primer Amor brujo.
I was a nobody and I shared the stage with those monsters." From that childhood remained a deep devotion to his mother, the influence of his father (shoemaker) and the passage through a religious school.
At thirteen, he decided he wanted to be an artist. He went to Algeciras, among many jobs he was also a cadet in a brothel and then settled in Seville.
The artist .
Miguel Frías de Molina, known artistically as Miguel de Molina, Spanish copla singer died in Buenos Aires in 1993.
"Miguel de Molina became famous for his way of singing Spanish coplas with a voice that broke in the flamenco way and for the dramatic sense of his shows in which the luxurious and innovative costumes were as important as the songs.
His theatrical conception of musical numbers completely changed the world of varieté. He displayed in them an accurate good taste that defied convention through the unusual combination of colors, fabrics and shapes.
Perhaps without knowing it, he was a continuator in the popular art of the aesthetics of the Ballets Russes" defined Alejandro Salade, grandnephew of Miguel and director of the Foundation that bears the artist's name.
Exile and protection
In the 30s, both for his unique voice, his songs and his aesthetics – vibrant, provocative – he became one of the most popular varieté artists in Spain. The Francoist power did not forgive him for two reasons: he acted for the Republican troops in duo with Amelia Isaura and his homosexual condition. Although he was not directly banned, he felt that his time in Spain was over.
The attack he suffered at the end of a performance at the Hotel Pavón, in Madrid, is cited as a decisive episode: three men kidnapped him, took him to a field, beat him and finally left him lying in the street. "For red and for faggot," they shouted at him. Several years earlier, most of his friends had ended up worse off.
Lola Membrives summoned him from Buenos Aires in 1942 and Molina did not hesitate, he joined the legion of Spanish exiles. And here he triumphed, although he did not lack reprisals (seven days in prison in Devoto, threat of expulsion, he left for a while to Mexico and New York). Finally, the protection of Eva Perón allowed him to return.
Belgrano District
Juan Sasturain wrote: "In Argentina he did musical shows, radio, theater, films, recorded albums, was a friend of Evita – who protected him while others harassed him – walked his curl stuck to his forehead and his incredible, defiant polka dot blouses, a sign of artistic identity.
Miguel de Molina was seriously famous, he made a lot of money and also – he retired in the sixties – he lost it. But never, memorious and/or resentful, except for some late and moving reportage, never wanted to return.
So, until the end. Even when in '92 he was decorated by the Spanish embassy with the Order of Isabel La Católica, he continued to live in his house in Belgrano, surrounded by his memories, his library, his scores, his incredible clothes that he sewed himself, his writings mostly unpublished.
Memory
"I have always been concerned about historical memory, but the case of Miguel de Molina affected me especially because the persecution he suffered was because of his sexual condition, something that touches me directly.
I begin the show with a harangue, assuring that the story of Miguel de Molina has to do with memory, with what some people do not want to remember because they say it is reopening old wounds, as if those wounds were only his. The wounds are closed when justice is done," said Angel Ruiz. Now, come back with the songs.
Shortly before he died, Miguel de Molina had pointed out: "When I have had to say something to someone, I have never said it hurting anyone. I've never hurt any artist."
The verses of "Te lo juro yo", by Rafael de León, sung by Miguel de Molina (and later popularized by Manuel Banderas in the film), defined those passions: "Por ti, contaría la arena del mar".