Guieldu at the Ciares Romería

Gijón

Another brilliant night at Ciares' traditional folixa, celebrating the music of Asturies.

Un momento del inicio de la actuación de Guieldu en la Romería de Ciares. Al fondo el escenario y en primer plano una persona del público lleva sobre sus hombros una bandera de asturias con el trisquel y el nombre de la banda de musica celta.

When we were invit­ed to play at the Cia­res Romería, we had a feel­ing this would be some­thing spe­cial. The fes­ti­val may still have been in its infan­cy, cel­e­brat­ing only its fifth edi­tion, but it already felt like it had been part of Xixón’s sum­mer cal­en­dar for years.

Maybe that’s because the peo­ple behind Esto ye Cia­res have brought back a way of organ­is­ing com­mu­ni­ty fes­ti­vals that many thought had dis­ap­peared. These days, it’s com­mon for local fes­ti­vals to out­source much of the work, but Cia­res feels com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent. From the bar and the stage set­up to the organ­i­sa­tion itself, every­thing is dri­ven by vol­un­teers — dozens of peo­ple giv­ing up their time to make the Romería happen.

You can see it in the lit­tle details. The local foot­ball club, Unión Club de Cear­es, lends its ground for the fes­ti­val, while the stage is set up beside the club­house ter­race, where the bar serves through­out the day. It has the unmis­tak­able feel of the sim­ple, no-frills stages that were once at the heart of vil­lage fes­ti­vals across Asturies.
For a large band like Guiel­du, fit­ting every­one onto the stage took a bit of cre­ative jug­gling. But once the music start­ed, it became clear that this stage is part of what makes the Romería so spe­cial. It sim­ply would­n’t feel the same any­where else.

Of course, a fes­ti­val built this way has its own rhythm. As the day went on, the sched­ule shift­ed here and there. It would be easy to com­plain, but it would­n’t be fair. When the same vol­un­teers are build­ing the site, run­ning the bar, look­ing after the bands, deal­ing with the unex­pect­ed and some­how keep­ing every­thing on track, it’s only nat­ur­al that the timetable does­n’t always run to the minute.
What real­ly mat­ters is under­stand­ing why, and appre­ci­at­ing the incred­i­ble effort that makes an event like this possible.

Susana y Jorge en un momento del concierto de Guieldu en Ciares, Xixón, en 2026

As for the wel­come we received, we could­n’t have asked for more. From the moment we arrived, every­one made us feel at home. We even had a dress­ing room set aside for the band — some­thing that’s not always guar­an­teed, even at much big­ger fes­ti­vals. After the con­cert, we came back to find refresh­ments wait­ing for us, enough for the whole band.

They might seem like small touch­es, but they say a lot about the care and thought that the organ­is­ers put into the event. Look­ing after musi­cians isn’t just about hav­ing a big­ger bud­get; it’s about mak­ing peo­ple feel gen­uine­ly welcome.

As for the con­cert itself, the crowd could­n’t have been bet­ter. What we enjoyed most was see­ing how, even in the mid­dle of such a live­ly, folixeru atmos­phere, peo­ple lis­tened just as atten­tive­ly to the more reflec­tive songs as they did to the upbeat tunes that soon had every­one dancing.

That con­nec­tion with the audi­ence made it a real plea­sure to be on stage.

Otro momento de la actuación de Guieldu en Xixón, con Hector a la flauta.

After the con­cert, it was a plea­sure to catch up with so many friends who have been fol­low­ing Guiel­du for years. Just as reward­ing, though, were the peo­ple who came over to say hel­lo and told us it was their first time hear­ing the band.

There’s always some­thing spe­cial about dis­cov­er­ing that your music is reach­ing new audiences.

Our con­grat­u­la­tions go to every­one involved. Not only for the tremen­dous amount of work that hap­pens behind the scenes, but for prov­ing that there’s anoth­er way to build a festival—one that can thrive and endure when it’s dri­ven by enthu­si­asm, coöper­a­tion and a gen­uine com­mu­ni­ty spirit.

We hope the Cia­res Romería con­tin­ues to grow for many years to come with­out ever los­ing the char­ac­ter that makes it so unique. As for us, we head­ed home with won­der­ful mem­o­ries and the feel­ing that we’d been part of some­thing far big­ger than just anoth­er concert.

Tra­di­tion­al com­mu­ni­ty fes­ti­vals are prob­a­bly the best place to keep the music of Asturies alive. They’re where old songs meet peo­ple who have known them all their lives, as well as those hear­ing them for the very first time. It’s where tra­di­tion stops being some­thing peo­ple sim­ply watch on a stage, or remem­ber from old­er gen­er­a­tions, and becomes some­thing they can take part in and make their own.

If music in Asturi­an is to have a future, it needs to keep ring­ing out in vil­lage squares, neigh­bour­hoods and romerías across Asturies. The Cia­res Romería shows that not only is this pos­si­ble, but that it mat­ters now more than ever

Here’s a short video and a few pho­tos from the day.

Concert Highlights: Video & Photos

© Pho­tos: Nacho G.S.