Story

The Piece Without an Author: The Mystery of the “Spanish Romance”

Martins · 2 weeks ago · v1

If you have ever learned classical guitar, chances are you have played it.

It opens with a slow arpeggio in E minor. The thumb plays the bass, while the other fingers unfold the chord in a gentle, rocking pattern of three notes. On top, at the start of each bar, a simple, sorrowful melody appears. Then the piece moves into E major, and the sadness turns into something full of light.

It is one of the most played guitar pieces in the world. Students play it in their first year, street musicians play it on corners, and concert guitarists play it as an encore.

And nobody knows for certain who wrote it.

A piece with too many names

The first clue that something is strange is the title.

In Spain it is called “Romance anónimo.” Elsewhere it is the “Spanish Romance,” “Romance de amor,” “Romanza,” or simply “Forbidden Games.” On some old sheets it appears as “Estudio en Mi de Rovira.”

A piece with a clear author usually has one title. A piece that passed from hand to hand, without paperwork, collects names along the way.

The same happened with its composers. Over the years it has been attributed to Fernando Sor, Francisco Tárrega, Miguel Llobet and other great names of Spanish guitar. None of these attributions rests on solid evidence. The piece sounded Spanish and beautiful, so people gave it a famous father.

The film that made it famous

In 1952, French director René Clément released “Jeux interdits” (“Forbidden Games”), the story of two children during the Second World War. The soundtrack was played on a single guitar by a young Spaniard named Narciso Yepes.

The film won major awards, and the melody travelled around the world. On the credits and on records, the name linked to the music was Yepes.

Yepes claimed he had composed the piece as a child. For many listeners, the mystery seemed solved.

The trouble was that the piece was older than the film.

Someone had already played it

More than a decade earlier, in 1941, the Hollywood film “Blood and Sand” already featured the melody. It was played by guitarist Vicente Gómez, who published it under his own name as “Romance de amor.”

That created a dispute: two Spanish guitarists, two claims, two films.

But researchers went even further back. They found traces of the piece that predate both films: a very early recording from the beginning of the twentieth century, and sheet music in which the melody appears as a study rather than a concert piece. The name that turns up most often in these traces belongs to a nineteenth-century guitarist, Antonio Rubira, sometimes spelled “Rovira.”

Very little is known about Rubira. It cannot even be proven that he composed the piece. He may simply have played it, taught it or written it down.

So what did Yepes actually play?

There is an explanation that partly reconciles the claims.

The minor section seems to be the old one, passed down through generations of guitarists. The major section, however, differs from one version to another. Some researchers believe the version we know today may carry the mark of those who arranged it, Yepes included.

In other words, each of them may have been a little bit right. Nobody invented the piece from nothing, but several people shaped it.

Why does a name matter?

For a piece played this often, the question is not just romantic. Where there is an author, there are royalties: money from records, films and concerts. Authorship of the piece was contested for years, and the answer still depends on which edition you open.

Most serious editions simply say “Anonymous.”

A piece that belongs to everyone

Perhaps that is the most fitting ending.

The “Romance” was probably born the way melodies were born before records and radio: played by one person, learned by another, changed a little by a third. It passed through nineteenth-century salons, through Hollywood and French cinema, through thousands of classrooms.

It has no certain author, but it has millions of performers.

And every time a beginner places their fingers on that E minor arpeggio for the first time, the story gains another chapter.