An introduction to Semana Santa in Málaga
This is part one of a two-part series on Semana Santa in Málaga. Part two includes practical tips on logistics, getting around, and a day-by-day guide to the processions.
Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Málaga is an extraordinary experience. The emotion, the drama, the billowing clouds of incense. For seven days, Málaga is utterly transformed as more than 40 different processions make their way slowly through the city, stopping traffic and filling the streets with the sound of processional marches played by huge ensemble brass bands.
Not only is it a vast logistical operation, but the tronos (literally thrones, but also translated as floats) borne through the streets can weigh several tonnes apiece, the largest ones carried on the shoulders of around 270 people. Thousands upon thousands of spectators line the processional routes, cramming onto narrow bridges or leaning from balconies to scatter rose petals onto the statues of holy figures as they pass.
In other words: Semana Santa here is big. And if you don’t know what to expect, or what happens when, it can be a bewildering experience.
A personal note: I put this guide together after three years living in Málaga, and many hours spent watching the processions. I am an outsider, and I am not religious, but I have a deep respect and affection for this city’s traditions. This article is the result of my experiences, research, and conversations with local friends and colleagues. I continue to learn, and I will be updating this article over time.
Semana Santa and Andalucían culture
First, some background. Semana Santa commemorates the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, as told by the Gospels. These events are also referred to as the Passion of Christ (from the Latin passio, meaning suffering or endurance). It is the most important festival in the Christian calendar.
However, one of the most important things to know about Semana Santa in Málaga, and Andalucia generally, is that it has a socio-cultural dimension as well as a religious one. This is a part of the world where traditions carry a great deal of weight, and are tied up with a strong sense of regional identity and belonging. In many parts of Spain, Holy Week activities are much more low-key, and certainly more sombre, than they are in Andalucia.
Although hundreds of towns and cities throughout the region mark Semana Santa with public processions, those of Seville, Málaga and Granada have a special status, as Spain has classified them as being of international tourist interest. A poster of a Semana Santa crucifixion is one of the first images to greet arrivals in Málaga Costa del Sol airport, along with the phrase “Welcome! Ready to enjoy?”
The first time I saw this, the contrast between the words and the image struck me as somewhat jarring, but now I understand it as a representation of the multi-layered experience that is Semana Santa here.
Although some of the days are solemn (Viernes Santo/Good Friday being the obvious example), other days have an upbeat and festive atmosphere. Balloon vendors wander through the crowds, food carts sell classic festival fare such as baked potatoes and sweets, and groups of family, friends and neighbours gather in the street and plazas, sharing foil-wrapped sandwiches or pipas (sunflower seeds) as they wait for the processions. This social aspect also coincides with lighter evenings and warmer weather.
When I was reading up on the history of Semana Santa I found an interesting article by BBC Mundo (in Spanish) in which the historian Manuel Jesús Roldán explains the special cultural significance of this week, pointing out that some historical interpretations connect it to the Spring festivals of Roman Iberia. As Roldán puts it, Semana Santa has a festive dimension that means even atheists take part in it.
When is Semana Santa?
Coming from New Zealand and the UK, where Easter is effectively a long weekend from Good Friday to Easter Monday, I was surprised to discover that Holy Week in Andalucia is exactly that - a week-long affair. It begins on the last day of Lent, Domingo de Ramas (Palm Sunday), the week before Domingo Santo (Easter Sunday).
The public holidays fall on the Thursday and Friday of this week, rather than the Friday and the following Monday. This is all crucial information if you are planning to visit, because some of the most significant processions take place before Good Friday.
As for the dates, Easter is what’s referred to as a moveable feast. Unlike other Christian holidays such as Christmas which fall on the same date each year, the dates of Semana Santa change and are based on a fairly complicated astronomical calculation.
In 2025, Semana Santa falls quite late - April 13-20. Although these are the key dates, each year sees a series of events throughout Lent in the lead-up to the week itself. Sometimes these are religious, such as the Via Crucis (Stations of the Cross) processions, and sometimes they are logistical, such as the traslados (transfers) in which the figures carried during the processions are moved from the churches where they are displayed throughout the rest of year, ready for the processions to begin.
What happens during Semana Santa?
So, why do the statues need to be relocated? Time to introduce some of the key players of Semana Santa: the hermandades, or cofradías. Both words can be translated as “brotherhood”. These are the community religious organizations that organise the processions of Semana Santa.
The casas hermandades or brotherhood houses are where many of the processions begin and end. You can identify these when you’re walking around Málaga by the large double doors, which allow the throne to exit and enter. When I first moved here, I had no idea what was behind those doors and wondered if they were storage for heavy machinery or even old fire stations(!)
A Casa Hermandad in La Trinidad, Málaga. Photo: author
The start of a procession is called a salida (exit), and the return is an encierro (confinement). Both are marked by a lot of (literal) fanfare, as the communities associated with each brotherhood gather in the street outside.
Before the salida, the music starts and the hundreds of people involved in the procession itself get into formation. Each brotherhood tends to have a figure of Christ (or a scene from the Passion of Christ) which leaves first, and a a figure of the Virgin Mary, typically covered by a canopy and surrounded with candles and flowers, which leaves later.
Who’s who in a Semana Santa procession
The sight of figures wearing robes and tall, pointy hats can be extremely jarring for a non-Spanish audience, but these figures have nothing to do with the Ku Klux Klan, which they predate by hundreds of years.
They are known as Nazarenos (Nazarenes, after Jesus’s hometown of Nazareth) and penitentes (penitents) and they accompany the processions through the streets. What’s the difference between a Nazareno and a penitente? This seems to vary depending on who you ask. For what it’s worth, the RAE (Real Academia Española, official guardian of the Spanish language) uses the terms interchangeably.
The classic Nazareno outfit is a tunic and a hat or hood in their brotherhood colours. That distinctive pointed hat is called a capirote. Some carry candles, and children watching the processions create giant wax balls by collecting the drips from them as they pass.
The members of the brotherhoods who carry the thrones are called hombres de trono (throne men) in Málaga, whereas in other cities - Seville, for example - they are known as costaleros. Although they are usually men, I have also seen women among the groups carrying the thrones.
The throne-bearers stand close together underneath long metal or wooden beams, called varales, which they support with their shoulders. They are given directions and encouragement by stewards called mayordomos, who also communicate with them by ringing a bell mounted at the front of the beams. Listen out for three consecutive rings followed by a single ring - it’s their signal to lift the throne with their hands in a feat of strength and teamwork called a pulso, which always earns a big round of applause.
Finally, the processions may include women dressed very elegantly in black with traditional mantillas (long lace veils) held in place by tall hair combs worn on the back of the head.
The music of Semana Santa
The other major players in any procession are the musical groups. These can range from small chamber music ensembles to marching bands with dozens of members. The brass bands create a slow-moving wall of sound that packs a powerful emotional punch, especially when you experience it at close quarters.
Processional marches are so closely entwined with Semana Santa and Spanish popular culture that some have become crossover viral hits. The most famous of these in recent years is undoubtedly Eternidad (Eternity) by the Cadiz-born composer and cornet virtuoso Sergio “Larry” Larrinaga, who died in 2021 aged just 45. It is a signature march of the Cadiz cornet and drum band Rosario de Cadiz, who - like many Andalucian brass bands - tour other towns and cities across the region during Semana Santa.
This video of Rosario de Cadiz performing in Seville’s Semana Santa in 2024 shows the electrifying effect that Eternidad’s opening chords have on crowds. There’s an audible gasp of recognition and then a hushed silence as everyone whips out their phones to record the moment.
As well as being chosen to soundtrack the 2024 Andalucian tourist board campaign Andalusian Crush, with its video narrated by Game of Thrones star Peter Dinklage, the song has been sampled by Andalucian electronica-fusion group Califato ¾ (featured in my Andalucia Day playlist), and the duo Mestiza, who have played it in their DJ sets. It may be the only song that you’re as likely to hear in a Mallorca nightclub as you are in the 2025 Jubilee celebrations in Rome.
Another of Larrinaga’s Semana Santa marches, Amor, was sampled by the Madrid musician C. Tangana in his 2020 track Demasiadas Mujeres. In all, Larrinaga composed marches for more than 50 bands across Andalucia and was also the musical advisor for the cornet and drum band of Málaga’s brotherhood Fusionadas.
Usually, cornet and drum bands accompany the figure of Jesus, while full brass bands escort the Virgin Mary. One popular brass band march of recent years is La Esperanza de Maria (Mary’s Hope) by the Seville composer Alejandro Blanco, which premiered in 2019 when he was 31 years old.
All of this is to say that although Semana Santa carries hundreds of years of tradition, its music is often very recent indeed, and the number of young people both composing and playing it reflects this.
Finally, listen out for saetas - solo, acapella serenades sung to the holy figures as they pass, sometimes from a balcony overlooking the street. They are often performed by well-known flamenco singers, such as this one by Málaga’s Diana Navarro (you may notice the actor Antonio Banderas standing next to her; more on him in part two).
Twilight is one of the most beautiful moments to watch a procession. Photo: author
The origins of Málaga’s Semana Santa
The first Holy Week commemorations were held in the late 15th century after the Catholic Monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella conquered the city, ending centuries of Muslim rule. But it was the Catholic Counter-Reformation from the 16th century onwards that established Semana Santa as we know it today.
This was an era when the Catholic church pushed back against the sobriety and austerity of the Protestant Reformation and its rejection of Papal authority. The Counter-Reformation and particularly the Council of Trent, a pivotal conference held by church leaders, paved the way for baroque art and architecture.
The church understood the enormous power of art to win hearts and minds. While Protestantism warned against the worship of images, the Council of Trent ruled that artistic representations of saints, Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary could be venerated or honoured. It was all part of a strategy to inspire religious fervour and loyalty to the church. The more realistic the figures, the more awe-inspiring the visuals, the better.
The size and spectacle of the thrones in Málaga’s Semana Santa, with their elaborate tableaux of scenes such as the Last Supper and their ornate metalwork, are a legacy of the baroque. This was an era when many of the city’s brotherhoods were founded, and emotion and public spectacle were the order of the day.
In those days, the processions were accompanied by candle-bearing “brothers of light” and the rather more gory “brothers of blood”, who whipped themselves for the duration of the procession in a public act of penitence. Nothing so violent occurs today, but some penitentes and hombres de trono do go barefoot, or even blindfolded.
So, are the thrones and their holy figures hundreds of years old? Well, no. From the Napoleonic wars, when invading French troops ransacked and looted the brotherhood houses, to anticlerical uprisings and eventually the Civil War, Málaga’s religious artworks fell victim to waves of destruction over the centuries.
As a result, not many of the holy figures that you’ll see in Semana Santa are antiques, and some are just a year or two old, created by contemporary sculptors such as Israel Cornejo who specialise in this form of baroque-influenced religious statuary.
Head to part two for a guide to what’s on when during Semana Santa in Málaga.