His passion is to rescue words and the music of neglected artists. The drive began with the Civil War and continued through a long period of oblivion that judged what men created as more important than what women produced. It is a view of life that, taken up by women, is shared, fought for, and carried forward.
Paco Ladies Miguel Hernández, a Granada-born musician who has spent years on this rescue mission, sings for poets like Blas de Otero, Lorca, and Antonio Machado. Collaborators included Caballero Bonald, Juan Gelman, and Luis Eduardo Aute, with voices such as Pastora Soler, Rozalén, and Carmen Linares helping carry forward the musical glorification of poetry.
The project belongs to him Invisible-Hatless 2, and armed with this legacy he travels to Spain and beyond, using the words of artists such as Zenobia Camprubí, Carmen de Burgos, Maria Lejárraga, Valderrama Column, Maria Zambrano, Shell Méndez, and others. The era’s sound, the memory of those years when each name mattered, challenged a creeping void.
The hatless were artists who challenged the censorship that burdened women in the 1920s and 1930s. The Damas album includes many poets who defied authority, taking a name that still resonates today from a time when women fought to be free to remove their hats.
In the latest book, A Common Date, Julia Navarro frames this idea within a broader debate about women in art and thought. The Damas project comes to the fore amid discussions about Spanish and international women who fought for freedom to exist as artists or thinkers. Televisión Española recently highlighted the Granada musician’s commitment to this cause during the nightly news.
In a conversation with Damas in the newsroom of Espana, he expressed surprise at the modest impact of his work. The recent media reactions stem from his steadfast effort. He has been named a Musician and Peace Ambassador in recognition of his advocacy against gender violence, and for years he has toured largely abandoned regions with this music of testimony and equality.
Q. Why did you choose poetry for your music?
r. Maybe because I’m drawn to it. Music has always been part of my life since childhood, especially guitar. Yet I knew it wouldn’t feed a modest family, so I studied medicine and briefly practiced. I pursued psychotherapy and, during studies, worked on Rafael Alberti and performed many concerts. That moment made me think about dedicating myself to music. I have eight albums now, including projects that modernize medieval poets. I’ve also recorded Don Quixote, selecting twelve poems to create a vibrant piece. Then came a recording about Miguel Hernández, and in 2012 I encountered an anthology of women’s poetry in Córdoba that left a strong impression. I realized that after Lorca and Hernández, it was time to give voice to these women. More than a thousand concerts have followed. The first project, released in 2017, featured eight women in contemporary rhythms with educational materials so that audiences can encounter women’s literature through music. These events reached educational centers with the help of teachers from Castilla La Mancha, and extended to concerts for both adults and youth across Spain, funded by municipalities and institutions.
Q. Is this work your main job or a personal project?
r. It stems from a love of music, a belief in a social message, and the conviction that the world can become better through songs about poets. The aim is to empower listeners through performances that reveal the lives of remarkable women from the shadows of history, a path continued after the 2017 album with more figures like María Zambrano, Pilar de Valderrama, María Lejárraga, and Carmen de Burgos.
Q. How do you fit music to poetry?
r. Each poem asks something specific from the musician. Some demand slow, melodic lines, others call for liveliness, rock, or ballads. I lock myself in a studio with my guitar and work with the chosen poems beforehand.
Q. What did you find in these women’s voices before you started?
r. I released an album about male writers like Juan Ramón Jiménez, but visibility in the media was limited because culture often struggles to sell. If you don’t feature a modern trend, attention fades. That’s the reality.
P. Do you care about popularity?
r. Not really. What matters is that people discover the work of these great writers.
Q. What do you want children to learn?
r. A message of equality and a stand against gender violence. Education at home and at school is the key to change.
Q. Do you feel you have convinced someone?
r. Yes, the conversation grows, even as the issue becomes politically charged. Equality belongs to everyone, not to any side.
Q. Who are your teachers?
r. Sabina, Aute, Hilario Camacho, Amancio Prada, and Luis Cernuda are admired. Writers like Concha Méndez, María Teresa León, and Ángela Figuera are just beginning to receive long overdue attention. The old balance that favored men is shifting, one page at a time.
For example, all the men of the 27 Generation are seen, but what about the women? The effort is aimed at making them visible.
Q. But there are male writers hidden in literary history too…
r. It’s hard to recall all the names, but the effort remains: the goal is to give equal room to the voices of women. Music should convey meaning, not just spectacle.
Q. How do women react to your singing?
r. They say they are women born to be poets, searching for a point that does not exist. References surface, like Concha Espina describing poetry as a living, evolving force. The inspiration continues.
Q. What are you preparing now?
r. A rest and a shift toward Latin American writers such as Rosario Castellanos, Dulce María Loynaz, and Gabriela Mistral. The aim is to connect with new audiences across the Americas while guarding unique ideas from copycats who want to imitate.
Q. Which line do you still want to preserve?
r. A verse by Sagrario Torres, honoring the elderly: the image of a man who sits on a bench, calm and unbothered, his hair white and a single earring catching the light. A quiet, honest portrait that lingers in the memory.