There is a deeply moving moment during the presentation of Oliveira dos cen anos. On stage, two Antón Alvarez figures share an emotional embrace, tears welling in their eyes. It is a gesture of compassion, and of lasting gratitude. Son C. Tangana thanks his father for conveying his love for certain colors, for the Celtic identity, and for the sense of belonging to a club like Celta. The father responds with thanks for the gift he gave his son—a symbol-rich hymn to the roots he left years ago when he chose life in Madrid. They hug and weep together.
That hymn, already echoing in the minds of fans, helps illuminate many chapters of his life. The artist explains this in a brief conversation with Manuel Villanueva, Alicia Barreiro and Iago Aspas shortly after: “Between two men who are used to sharing our most honest feelings, it is a tribute to what my father gave me. Land, language, city. It is all the things that define me and the way I tell him and the world.”
Perhaps the most intense moment of an emotionally charged show, the event featured Celta presenting its centennial hymn to the audience. A massive video created and directed by C.Tangana, with the collaboration of a skilled Madrid-based team and several Galician artists coordinated by Antón Alvarez, blends the Celt-inspired spirit with traditional Galician music, culture, language, roots and landscape. It stands as a tribute to him, to his father, and, above all, to the team and the fans who support the project.
What began as a lighthearted line on social media, “Will you let me try?”, shared by Tangana yesterday as a joke, evolved into a world-class creative process. It shaped the finishing touches of last night’s presentation through intensive production, drawing on C.Tangana’s working group and nearby groups that absorb elements of their culture to give the project its meaning and substance.
C. Tangana: “Being a Celt native was a profound, sometimes devastating move”
The doubts once cast by some who felt distant from Galician culture faded. Pucho, Antón Álvarez, or C. Tangana, if preferred, clarified that those suspicions were unfounded. Through his dedication to crafting a comprehensive hymn and directing a powerful video, and later embracing Celtic symbolism as a personal flag, he demonstrated a steadfast commitment to his roots.
He spoke plainly yesterday at Teatro A Fundación: “I am from Madrid, I studied in a school in Carabanchel. No one taught me to chase fame or celebrate goals with a Seagull, like Mostovoi did. Suspicion of my Celtic identity was not new. Being from Celta meant making a difficult choice. I always had to proclaim that I am from Celta. I wanted to express a living Celtic spirit with a sense of the divine. For me this is a form of militancy that extends through the club and beyond. Celta is very special.”
That is the essence. The moment was shared online as the crowd saw those who helped shape the hymn take the stage. Notably, a candid discussion with three regular collaborators—Alizzz, Pablopablo and Harto Rodríguez—stood out, along with guests Xisco Feijoo, Sime (Keltoi), Tamara (Lagharteiras), Carmen (Escola Municipal de Música Folk e Tradicional) and the director of the Casablanca Choir. Their conversations revealed the creative process, Tangana’s generosity, his eagerness to learn, and his ambition to deliver an ambitious work, a project he described as enormous in scope.
They also acknowledged early missteps and prejudices. The Keltoi singer initially believed the artist’s intentions were meant as an alibi to whitewash problems, but time proved otherwise. Alicia Barreira, a close collaborator, stressed the importance of keeping Celta visible beyond Division Two, recognizing the pain endured in pursuit of permanence. Iago Aspas, speaking with honesty, pointed to his own example, noting what could have happened the night before filming the video if circumstances had shifted. Manuel Villanueva, Mediaset’s content manager, spoke about finding ways to feature Celta in television and cinema whenever possible.
It is clear that the hymns once born from the people remain theirs. Now Celtic influence holds the anthem, with a shared love and pride. Some chants arise naturally, some from necessity, and some from a striking idea. Oliveira dos cen anos may be one such case. Tangana explained his choice not to perform the song at times, joking at first that everyone is doing well; then adding, “This anthem belongs to no single person, and even after a century I do not want it to belong to the club alone. It belongs to the people, forever, just like Celta.”