““Bailaora” Pepa Montes y Ricardo Miño Saturday, October 2, 2004. 9:00pm Teatro Lope de Vega - Seville       Program XIII Bienal de Arte Flamenco Seville

Daily coverage BIENAL DE FLAMENCO sponsored by:

Pepa Montes (dance), Ricardo Miño (guitar), Vicente Gelo (cante), José Jiménez ‘Bobote’ (palmas and dance), Rafael Serrano ‘el Eléctrico’ (palmas and dance), Antonio Barrull (percussion), guest artists: Manuel Molina, Fernando Terremoto, Segundo Falcón, and the special collaboration of Pedro Ricardo Miño (piano), Jesús Vigorra (off-stage voice).

It’s the home stretch of the Bienal and this was something that was sorely needed. Despite some valiant efforts, few and far between have been the moments when we have felt overcome with the magic of it all. The shows and premieres worked out to perfection in some cases, or the absence of perfection in others, complicated by the low overall interpretive quality and opportunistic staging with an eye to cutting corners at the world’s greatest flamenco showcase, just don’t add up to much. However “Bailaora” was somehow different, visceral, intimate, flamenco, magical….and long.

Family ties were partly to blame. Ricardo Miño on the guitar; his wife, dancer Pepa Montes, the star of the night; Pedro Ricardo Miño, their son, on the piano. The rest, just like family: “El Eléctrico” and Bobote doing palmas, with the bulería “El Morapio”, bulerías that sounded from another era when feeling mattered more than virtuosity; Vicente Gelo singing, Antonio Barrull handling the percussion, and guest artists like Fernando Terremoto, Segundo Falcón and Manuel Molina. Jesús Vigorra lent his voice to introduce the second part of the show where he read the “Code of the Seville School of Dance” by Matilde Coral to whom Ricardo and Pepa dedicated their performance “with the greatest respect and affection”. Nor was Rafael el Negro, husband of the illustrious dancer from Seville left out.

Falcón starts out a capella and Pepa’s hair stands on end with the depth of his lament. She gets up from her chair and you can smell the drama when she fills every nook and cranny with her movements and poses, and no music other than the beating of the audience’s hearts. No concessions, the hand slowly moves, the torso twists, the gestures are profound. Her heels beg the guitar to begin and it obeys. Pepa Montes caresses elegantly and leaves the showy flourishes for others. She measures each step with grace, giving everything at every moment. No unnecessary tricks.

Artistic sensitivity has a name and it was born in Triana. Manuel Molina approaches the piano and Pedro Ricardo grows. With his arms spread wide the bearded one lets his voice rip triggering powerful emotions, and it’s one of those magical moments that leave their mark and for which you’d trade entire shows, the ones that the Bienal spends small fortunes on. This isn’t “take the money and run”. This is “giving everything”. And it shows. Pepa is carried away by Manuel’s cante in Imaginaria. Manuel keeps rhythm softly and Pepa tones down more and more. The mutual affection is flowing freely.

Fernando Terremoto gets warmed-up with malagueñas and his round voice keeps them pegged to their seats. Pedro Ricardo’s accompaniment is a dream. And there are still people who don’t see this instrument as having a flamenco potential. Flamenco is the person who plays it. Something else is what we’re accustomed to . He really lets loose with bulerías, and compás decides to set up house in the piano’s soundbox, the most flamenco one we’ve heard to date.

The bata de cola needed to be coaxed out. The first part ended with caña. Segundo Falcón linked the “ay”s and Pepa got inspired just moving around the stage, dominating and strutting…

The second part gets under way. The off-stage voice of Jesús Vigorra lays down the lines of the Seville school of dance while Pepa sits motionless in the chair making a perfect picture with her white bata de cola and shawl. Alegrías. And the flavor of Cádiz is spread everywhere. The dancer seduced, making “each movement and gesture a promise”. The movement of arms was “like a scream silencing freedom”. She projected them “heavenward, sculpting without tools to make the most perfect statue”. She was “womanly at every moment” . She gave of herself “body and soul to the desires of an impossible lover”. She saw to “the exquisite qualities, the swirling of the arms…tighten your waist and let each bend become a twist of hidden sensuality, and an accomplice.” She was suggestive but never explicit…she was feminine. “Voluptuously feminine: with her slightly haughty gaze, caressing hands, slightly parted lips, waist like a reed and insolent breasts”. She showed the bata de cola who was in charge. “With neither fear nor hesitation. Because the tail of the bata only tangles up those who don’t know how to use it”. Footwork always with wisdom, because “in the Seville school of dance there is no room for aggressive movements. The hands, like winged doves. The shoulders sitting squarely. Neither up, as if you were cold, nor down as if you were about to faint”. Pure gold.

Afterwards, bulerías. Falcón sings and El Eléctrico does his little dance. “The aesthetic of ‘jondo’”, por soleá, sounds of Triana wrap up the show. What can I say. Manuel did the curtain call – magic moments.