Let’s face it:
I’m never going to remember the program number-by-number (see below entry RE: my forgetting to bring a pen). Nonetheless, I’ll do my best to review the show as a whole and with as much impartiality as humanly possible.
8 PM. Enter Paco Peña and his company members currently touring with him:
Guitarists: Paco Arriaga and Rafael Montilla (in addition to Paco himself, naturally)
Singers: David Palomar and Simón Rom
án
Percussionist (cajón): Nacho Lopez
Dancers: Angel Muñóz, Ramón Martínez and Alicia Márquez
I was half-pleased, half-disappointed to see him surrounded by performers entirely different from the company he brought to Victoria two years ago. Disappointed, because those performers were beyond amazing; pleased, because this promised to be an entirely unique and different show. Not that any of this should have really surprised me: Paco is reputed for keeping his shows fresh and innovative, bringing new talent to the table every time.
The first word that comes to mind in describing this particular show (A Compás!) is ‘unity’. Sure, unity is in itself one of the characteristics of a
cuadro Flamenco. In a good show, guitarists, dancers,
palmeros, cajón players and singers are so in sync with each other that their talents flow flawlessly together, creating an energetic, seamless composition of sound, rhythm and dance.
In this show, the principle of unity seemed to go beyond this basic foundation of the art form. The performers played with it, stretched it, practically redefined it. It was not only the unity of a traditional cuadro (or collection of them) that prevailed throughout the show, or of the handful of group choreographies executed flawlessly by the trio of dancers… It seemed to be all-encompassing, from one number to the next – whether they were instrumental, group choreographies or dance solos.
Paco’s performance was exquisite, as usual. His interpretation, the way he made his guitar sing were reminders of why he’s the world-renowned virtuoso he’s reputed to be. While his accompanying guitarists were very talented, and each had a chance to ‘show off’ it was clear why Paco’s the signature name of the compay.
As far as the dancing goes, I had almost forgotten what a treat it is to watch good male dancers! Angel and Ramón are not only talented flamenco professionals – they’re veritable athletes, with an impressive range of muscle control and unity (that word again...) with the music and
compás. It wasn’t their quadruple pirouettes that made me drop my jaw so much as the fact that they did them in perfect
compás and always landed with a smile in their face. And the fact that they both seemed to be having the time of their life… To think at first I was a bit disappointed there would only be one female dancer!
But, like in everything else, it’s a matter of quality, not quantity! Alicia is a graceful dancer, her style characterized by its elegance and control, instead of the almost fury, the
rabia of some of the great flamenco bailaoras. One could even say she used footwork almost sparingly in her solos (in contrast to other dancers), but she didn’t need to use it any more than she did – she didn’t have anything to prove. Her
remates, escobillas and breaks were flawless wherever she inserted them and the elegance and movement of her body spoke of her intimate knowledge of the rhythms. An interesting fact was that the
batas de cola she wore for her
soleá and her
alegría weren’t as prominently used as batas de cola tend to be. Instead, their use provided only accents for the rest of the dances – which would probably account for the shorter-than-average length of the dresses. There was a bit of kicking and flicking the tail out of the way, but it was almost functional, almost matter-of-fact. The dress did not take over the choreography, but seamlessly added to its already intrinsic elegance.
Now, the singers… The singers!
Two years ago, the singing spotlight belonged to a young (25ish) woman with an amazingly powerful voice, and indisputable
duende – talk about being one with the art form! Part of me was wishing she’d be back, but I can't say I missed her once this show got underway!
Two singers, David and Simón, very different from each other. David was short and short-haired, Simón, very gypsy-looking: dark, long-haired, stout. Their voices were both outstanding, and as different from each other as the singers themselves. David was particularly lyrical, while Simón had more of the true
gitano style and seemed more involved in the
jaleo (cheering) for the dancers -- however, his over-the-top enthusiasm made me wonder if he might actually be high on something....
The opposite of the spectrum was David. His voice was so at one with the music, percussion and dancing that at times I caught myself forgetting he was there… Then he’d break out in these acapella solos or hit these deep notes that left me wondering how could I have possibly forgotten he was there, singing. His unity (yep. Again) with the music and dance was nothing short of breathtaking, even more so than Simón’s.
All around, I left the theatre with an odd mixture of awe, helplessness and determination. Awe because of all the things I damn well know I myself will never be able to do as a dancer (quadruple pirouettes come to mind…); helplessness because I damn well know I myself will never be able to do certain things as a dancer, and because of the sudden, sharp awareness of how green I am, how painfully amateur; and determination because of all the work I’m willing to do to manage at least a fraction of what these dancers did last night.
It comes down to two options: either I apply myself and keep dancing, or I accept the inevitable and switch from Flamenco to basket-weaving…
