The other 'movida': the years when the underground flourished in Tortosa

A city with a conservative tradition, with a reputation for being closed, patrician, and clerical, at a privileged crossroads at the end of the Ebro River, Tortosa sought to transform itself in the 1980s thanks to the counterculture, taking advantage of the momentum and desire to finally open its doors as the Franco dictatorship ended.

At the same time that the movida was bursting onto the scene in Madrid, in Tortosa, long dormant, a deeply rooted artistic movement emerged, driven by culturally restless young people born in the 1960s who had not suffered Franco's repression firsthand. They were eager to change everything.

Around twenty bands were formed, covering musical styles such as punk and rock, and creators from a variety of disciplines emerged.

Visual poetry, theater, and painting, with names like Toni Gonzàlez (1954-2018) and Emili Clari (1958-2019); visual artists, such as the world-renowned illustrator Ignasi Blanch (1964), filmmakers (Juan Cruz), and photographers (Paco Espinach and Jep Colomé).

A boom that arose against the current, in a society that viewed the winds of change with suspicion, overlooking the Ebro River where the Francoist eaglet flaunted itself, unabashedly.

A cultural and social cocktail that, surprisingly, has barely been studied or reported on in the last 40 years. Until the publication of a book, Tortosa Underground (1979-1990), published by Onada Edicions, co-authored by one of its protagonists, Cristian Porres, a musician, visual poet, and graphic designer, and a local journalist, Marina Pallàs, who, due to her age, hadn't experienced it but was deeply intrigued.

“It was a very rich, creative, and turbulent decade, with the birth of many important things yet to be explained. It was a prodigious decade, with the emergence of great freedoms and lots of celebration,” Pallàs emphasizes. “If I had a superpower, I would choose to go back to 1984,” he adds.

If he did, he would find a Tortosa in turmoil, outside the institutional machinery. "We wanted to change the world," says Porres, who experienced it firsthand as a member of one of the most influential groups (Valium 10). "We wanted to recover the memory of the dispossessed, as Toni Chaney defines them, often ignored by the contempt of Tortosa society."

"It was a very rich, creative, and turbulent decade. A prodigious decade, with the emergence of great freedoms and lots of celebration." Marina Pallàs Journalist, author of Tortosa underground (1979-1990)

How did that movement evolve? Was it successful? Did it transcend Tortosa and the Terres de l'Ebre? What remains of it all? The book was published this April and was a huge success for Sant Jordi in Tortosa. There's a lot of interest and curiosity in reliving it all.

"We realized that it's a very poorly documented period in the history of Tortosa. Many people know about the Movida de Madrid, the most famous, and what happened in Barcelona and Valencia, but what happened in Tortosa hadn't been explained or addressed," Pallàs emphasizes.

Their work has served to recover the experiences and reflections of the protagonists themselves. It is the result of several years of painstaking work.

Tortosa-born journalist Maricel Chavarría (1967), from La Vanguardia , experienced and recounted the event through her first cultural chronicles (Ebre-Informes) at concerts by groups such as Valium 10, led by Cristian Porres and Manel Segarra; Landlord, led by Carlos Chavarría and Paco Prieto; and the mods of Quadrophenia. "The music scene would ultimately be the raison d'être of the Moguda de Tortosa," she maintains.

“Rock and pop groups emerged from nowhere, moving forward with both hands despite the mocking comments and the typical local skepticism, always ready to demoralize anyone who dared to try their hand at being an artist ,” Chavarría recalls.

One of the virtues of Tortosa Underground is that it's a collective work. The authors interviewed more than seventy people over the course of more than two years. "Not everyone was willing to participate, which is understandable. There are doors that haven't been opened, and that's fine," Porres reflects.

From that countercultural movement emerged the first feminist movements (Col·lectiu de Dones de Tortosa), the desire for liberation and sexual expression after forty years of repression. Drug experimentation, the excesses of Tortosa's nightlife, the emergence of AIDS and all its taboos are all part of the same story.

Barcelona-born filmmaker Juan Cruz (1966), winner of a Goya (Tapas), spent two years of his adolescence in Tortosa, coinciding with all of this. He is one of the book's prologue writers . He left his hometown of Hospitalet de Llobregat for Baix Ebre when he was 15.

I had the privilege of seeing that modern Tortosa. I came from the heavy metal scene in Hospitalet, a bit of a quinqui, and I entered worlds like comics, literature... They were two wonderful years; they left their mark on me." Juan Cruz, filmmaker, winner of the Goya for 'Tapas'

“I had the privilege of seeing that modern Tortosa. I came from the heavy metal scene in l'Hospitalet, a bit of a quinqui, and I entered worlds like comics, which later led me to literature and writing television programs, series, and films. It has to do with what I experienced in Tortosa; they were two wonderful years; they left their mark on me.”

Tortosa wanted to be underground, and it succeeded during a wonderfully groundbreaking and exciting decade. It didn't fall on deaf ears. Some of the artists who emerged during that era made independent careers, and some have enjoyed significant success both within and outside of Terres de l'Ebre.

On a social level, the beginnings of the feminist movements were the seed of what has come later, both inside and outside of Tortosa. Many of the dreams of radical change eventually faded.

“We wanted to change the world, but in the end, the system forced us to be responsible adults: we wanted to burn everything down and rebuild it,” Porres reflects.

“It's true that the feminist movement, which began then, the LGBTQIA+ struggle that didn't exist and was created at that time, and above all the sensibilities, remain: being aware that there are people who can create other things outside the mainstream and the system,” Porres adds. “They were dissident voices, women—very young and brave girls at the time—who began to fight for women's rights, just like in the LGBTQIA+ community, people who wanted to start making a better, more just world,” Pallàs adds.

The book recounts wonderful, little-known stories of pioneers like José María Curto, the founder of the first gay pub in Terres de l'Ebre, the Broadway, in Jesús (Tortosa). In 1979, it was already billed as the first gay pub in Baix Ebre.

The gatherings took place in bars (Stress, Negresco, or Sprint), in pubs (Broadway, Bugatti, Cristal, or Manila), and the Tortosa scene emerged spontaneously, with its desire to shake the foundations of a society anchored in the past. Many of these venues have disappeared.

“Meeting points are creative venues. You'd meet tons of people there, and every conversation would spark an idea,” recalls Arturo Gaya (Quico el Célio, el Noi i el Mut de Ferreries), with his eyes on the legendary Casal Tortosí.

The book has helped me recover my relationship with Tortosa, which was one of love and hate. I fled Tortosa when I was 20, thinking it was a hole; I wanted to be a rock star. Victor Porres Singer of Valium 10

“What we did was huge,” Porres recalls. “The book helped me recover my relationship with Tortosa, which was a turbulent love-hate relationship. I fled Tortosa at 20, thinking it was a mess; I wanted to be a rock and roll star, I tried,” he recalls.

“It was a time when the windows opened, the dandruff disappeared, and we experienced it as an absolute explosion of freedom. There was a significant change in the way we lived. We thought it was gone forever, but these are struggles we can't let go of; the dandruff has returned,” Cruz warns.

Another of Tortosa Underground 's virtues is the compilation of a large amount of graphic material, with photographs from the period, some of which have never been published before, in a small sample generously offered by the authors to illustrate this journey in La Vanguardia .

“The young man who dreamed of the streets of Tortosa can now confirm that it all made sense, and that there we found color and a journey filled with many drawings. There was magic,” says illustrator Ignasi Blanch (Roquetes, 1964), the only Spanish representative in the international East Side Gallery project to paint the Berlin Wall, then in his teens and young adulthood.