Video footage from Kassel, Germany!

'Eres Un Monstruo' By Diego Paqué:


'Un Poco Más De Verso' By Diego Paqué:


'A Mi Voz' By Diego Paqué


'Sencillo' By Diego Paqué

Playing in Prison

It has been a long time since I left an entry. We had a bit of a hiatus from the stage, but we came back with a bang!

We hit the road to Alicante (down the coast from Barcelona. About a 5 1/2 hour drive). We knew the plan was to play in a prison, but we had no idea what it would be like. I had never actually been inside a real prison and was nervous just thinking about it. Especially as a foreigner playing flamenco in Spain...

The first detail we found out upon arrival (at 9AM, no late night shows in the lockup...) was that it was not a 'normal' prison. It was a psychiatric prison. Or in other words: a jail for the criminally insane. My heart started racing a bit as we came up to the entrance. I have worked with the homeless and serious drug users in the past, but the criminally insane, well, I didn't know what to expect.

The director, a woman by the name of Amaya, met us at the entrance and our vehicle was escorted inside. The 30 foot tall steel gates closed behind. I had a bit of a chill go up my spine. Two big guards came out to help us with our equipment and we started to unload.

Just then a group of female inmates walked by. They were the first contact we had with the prison population. Many were obviously drugged and sedated, but others seemed lucid, but well, a bit disturbed. We asked what the ratio of men to women was and Amaya said that it was 9 to 1, but that 'the women who crack, go down much harder and faster than the men'. They hooted and hollered at us a bit, but were quickly ordered to be on their way. (The women were not allowed to come to the performance because security was worried they would become 'agitated').

We walked through a couple more gates that we had to be buzzed through and walked into the main courtyard. There were a few prisoners milling about, smoking cigarettes like there was no tomorrow. There were two prisoners waiting for us by the stage to help us move things around. These guys seemed pretty under control, but we were still a bit nervous about them handling our gear, so we told them we had it under control and they just sat back and watched.

As the hour to start approached the seats in the little theater filled up. There were men from the ages of early 20s to 60s. Some were medicated or out of it to the point of drooling. Others seemed relatively normal. There were only a few who looked excited, but we started up and after the first song there was at least some good energy in the room.

After a couple songs about half of the population was standing at the door smoking. They were listening, but I guess living without a cigarette for that long was not an option. Of the 100 or so present there were about five guys who were clapping along, and even a couple got up and were dancing. This made the guards nervous, but they allowed it.

We played for about an hour and a half in what, I felt like, was a good set. We knew that this crowd would be tough, but we got them interested and some of them were even inspired. After we finished two inmates asked if they could sing or read poetry. We certainly had no problem with it, we asked the guards and the director and they said it was fine. The first inmate (pictured above with the sun glasses) got up and sang acapella some classic flamenco songs. He had his good moments and some bad ones as well, but he was so happy to have the opportunity. The second (also pictured above) was our most enthusiastic supporter. He was one of the dancers and, especially in the loud and fast moments, was up and moving. He got up read some poetry and sang some classic Spanish flamenco and rock songs. This got some of the other inmates involved and made us happy to bring a moment of joy into their lives.

While these inmates were performing, another one kind of latched on to me. He told me that he wanted to learn how to play the bass, how he shouldn't be in here, how he only had a gram of cocaine. All of this was pretty normal, except that he was 5 inches from my face when he talked. His eyes were dilated (I don't know if this is from his meds or something smuggled in) and he looked really intimidating. I guess this was his normal MO because nobody was really showing any concern. He asked me comparative questions like: Who do you like better Sting or Bob Dylan? Or Led Zeppelin or the Rolling Stones? And he said some pretty funny things as well like: Australians are the strongest people in the world. They eat 22 bananas a day and drink 5 liters of water! Hey, who am I to argue. I just agreed and wiped the spittle off my face.

I also met a huge Palestinian prisoner. He was very helpful and followed us around showing us the different parts of the prison. He escorted us to the arts workshop where the prisoners made some pretty amazing paintings and sculptures. This, I thought, must be such an escape for some of these guys. Amaya introduced us to a few prisoners who had never done anything artistic in their lives, but 'inside' discovered they had tremendous talent. The Palestinian was one of them. I had this urge to tell him that I am half-Jewish and that I support a Palestinian state, but I decided to say that I was North American instead. He kind of froze at the mention of Palestine and scurried off. I guess I touched a nerve. I am glad that I didn't touch more than that because he was a very large criminally insane human.

Quite a few prisoners told me they only had a few months left, including '5 inches from my face' guy. Some had been there 5 years, others 15. I wondered if they really just let these guys out on the street or if there is follow-up. I asked and they said there is, but that many of them slip through the cracks because the system is overloaded. Great.

There was also another prisoner that told me that even though he had been there for 15 years he was free. Sure, his body was trapped, but he said he was able to escape in his mind to the outside. I wondered what drugs he was taking.

As we were leaving the prison cellblock some of the same ladies passed us again and one of them stopped Diego and insisted that she knew him. 'Aren’t you so and so's cousin, etc.' She would not let it go that they had never met and it took a strong urging from one of the guards for her to be on her way. She stubbornly agreed after blowing a kiss. That was the last we saw of the inmates.

As the gates closed behind us I had a sense of relief. I couldn't imagine staying in there for a night, let alone years. It was all kind of surreal, especially loading out from a concert at 12 PM.

We went for lunch with the prison director and she invited us back to her house. She had an amazing garden filled with pomegranate trees. Pol and I decided to take advantage and lay down for a siesta in the garden. I woke up refreshed and glad to know that I have my physical freedom. Still working on that mental part though...