There's a moment at Asturian fiestas that throws anyone who hasn't seen it before: the music stops, people join hands to form a huge circle, and they start singing while moving slowly. No gaita, no drum, just voices. That's the danza prima, Asturias's great popular dance, and probably the oldest thing you'll see here. There's no choreography to learn and no costume to wear: you dance the danza prima simply by joining the circle.
Everyone's dance
The danza prima is, along with the corri-corri and the pericote, one of the ancestral dances of the Asturians. But it has one important difference from the other two: while the corri-corri and the pericote are confined to a very specific geographic area, the danza prima is danced, with numerous variations, across practically the whole region.
It's a kind of bonding ritual among the people dancing it, performed on certain nights, in a pagan rite or a religious celebration, accompanied by the singing of various ballads. Experts agree on how old it is, though they disagree on where it comes from: some place its origins in Greece, others in Celtic culture.
It's sung, not played
What makes it special is that the dancers themselves provide the music. They sing a ballad — a long story, in verse, of the kind that used to be passed down from memory — and the circle moves forward to the rhythm of the singing. No instruments. At a fiesta full of gaitas and drums, the danza prima is the moment when all of that falls silent.
That's why it works anywhere, and why it's survived: it doesn't need hired musicians. It needs people who know the words. That's also where its fragility lies, because the ballads get lost the moment one generation stops singing them.
The corri-corri de Cabrales
The corri-corri de Cabrales is one of the dances that has given folklorists the most to talk and write about, and probably the oldest surviving one in Asturias. It's recognised as part of the region's intangible cultural heritage. It calls for some very specific material elements: the costumes of the aldeana cabraliega (the village woman) and the cabraliegu or bailín (the male dancer), the music and singing, and the instruments — drum and pandorios, a type of hand-held tambourine.
Unlike the danza prima, this one isn't improvised and isn't learned just by watching: it's a dance from one specific valley, with its own costumes and its own rules, kept alive by the people who live there. Watching it is a different thing from dancing it; here, your part is to watch.
Where you'll run into it
At romerías. There's a huge variety of dances in Asturias, and they're danced at romerías and at any occasion where a gaita and a drum are playing. The danza prima usually comes out toward the end of the fiesta, once everyone has eaten and had a few drinks and somebody starts forming the circle.
If you're spending a stretch of time here and one comes up, the advice is simple: join in. You don't need to know the words — most of the circle doesn't know all of them either — and nobody's going to be watching your feet. The danza prima is a dance of hands, not feet, and its only requirement is enough people. Being just one more is exactly the part you're meant to play.