Farruquito. “Alma vieja” Villamarta Theater, Jerez de la Frontera. Thursday, March 4th, 2004. 9:00pm

Dance: Juan Manuel Fernández ‘Farruquito’, Antonio Fernández ‘Farruco’, Pilar Montoya ‘La Faraona’, Juan Montoya ‘Barullo’, Antonio Moreno ‘Polito’, Adela Campallo, Keren Jacobi ‘La Hachara’. Cante: Montse Cortés, Encarna Anillo, José Valencia, El Canastero, Antonio Zúñiga. Guitar: Román Vicenti, El Perla. Artista Invitado: Manuel Molina

And on the seventh day we rested. Thursday the only show on the festival program was at the Villamarta Theater, but the magnitude of the individual at the top of the bill made this day the most anticipated of the entire festival.

But first things first... At the morning press conference the work “Inmigración” was presented by its author, Fernando González-Caballos who explained that it is directed to those foreigners who dream of embarking on a career in flamenco, and pointed out that Miguel Poveda, the singer who shares the bill with “Inmigración”, is an immigrant himself. Producer José Carlos Lérida commented on the social commitment and the need to avoid superficiality, adding that the show generated more expense than income.

Farruquito is the festival’s most important draw. Ever since the child prodigy came of age he’s been surprising audiences the world over as well as in Spain with his dynamic and original dance which is, at the same time, rigurously traditional. Manuel Molina opens the presentation relating the family saga of the Farrucos and sings a verse which years ago was recorded by the Familia Montoya: “Vamos a bailar como los gitanos, con luz y color” [‘Let’s dance like the gypsies, with light and color’], and the line couldn’t have been more appropriate.

The group is hot. Who says fandango de Huelva isn’t a gitano dance? With Farruquito and his people this form, usually inoffensive, turns into a lethal weapon and makes an apt presentation in which no energy is spared. The audience goes wild with the appearance of each member of the family, and everyone tries to sort out which one is which, shouting and applauding with insatiable hunger to see these astonishing young people.

The show has grown and matured a great deal since its debut in Mont-de-Marsan last June. Manuel Molina has a bigger role and the two female dancers, a smaller one, and both changes are positive in terms of the overall effect. The farruca which Román Vicenti plays with alternate tuning sounds excellent, but this dance of Farruquito’s is perhaps the weakest part of the show, no doubt because it depends more on theatrical movements than on the compás the dancer manages with such authority, and the red velvet suit he wears might be what prompted one London critic to call Farruquito “Spain’s Michael Jackson”.

This isn’t watching dance...it’s nourishment!...we’re
putting on weight with every passing second.

But as always happens with great artists, Farruquito makes us his accomplices, we never tire of waiting for his flashes of genius and absolutely everything is forgiven. The level of his brother Farruco’s dancing continues to go higher and higher and the people sitting next to me commented that he has surpassed Farruquito. But no, the integrity and maturity of the elder dancer, his presence and his willingness to take risks are qualities not yet matched in the younger brother.

Among journalists we remark on the difficulty of finding words to describe the indescribable, when long ago we already ran out of appropriate adjectives. The rhythmic applause is not reserved for the end but springs up again and again from the culturally diverse and totally enthralled audience.

In the siguiriya an ingenious touch takes away the collective breath and provokes a tear here and there. A corpulent figure, possibly La Faraona dressed in a man’s suit, a hat covering the face, ascot, cane in hand, slowly crosses the rear of the stage while Farruquito and friends are raising flamenco hell. It’s old Farruco! He stops momentarily, glances at the ruckus and continues on his way. What could have been a corny trick, gives the perfect touch and reinforces the message of the work: continuity.

This isn’t watching dance...it’s nourishment!...we’re putting on weight with every passing second, but as happens with all powerful drugs, instead of becoming satiated, we need more and more. Manuel Molina provides a sort of epilogue, the fiesta finale follows, the smallest member of the family comes out to dance, Joselito Valencia’s cante is to die for, we’re out of breath and wish it would never end.

Emerging to the world devoid of compás outside the theater I thought, if the most traditional kind of flamenco, without cajón, dumbek, nudism, choruses or any other kind of extravagance is capable of reaching such heights, why aren’t we more demanding? Why do we settle for the merely pretty when this art, which is bigger than any artist who practices it, has this perfect and never-ending built-in dynamic?

Text : Estela Zatania

Theater Villamarta Program
De Peña en Peña Program: Trasnoches, De Peñas, Peña de Guardia
Other shows(Gloria Pura, Bordón y cuenta nueva, De la Frontera, Café Cantante, Sólos en Compañía)
Courses and workshops

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