The marks left on the wall of the court by each strike of the ball are etched in a latent but increasingly mute collective memory. This voicelessness is the result of the progressive exodus in Spain of people from the countryside to the city, a constant emptying of rural areas.

In summer, the grandchildren and nephews of former inhabitants come to reclaim and revive the fronton space, which thereby becomes a kind of strange, architecturally imposing but abandoned monument, a wall that is a silent witness of the history of Spain. The Frontons in the towns of Spain testify to that fact.