All the information IX Festival de Jerez

Dance: Eva Yerbabuena, Mercedes de Córdoba, María Moreno, Sonia Poveda, Asunción Pérez Choni, Luis Miguel González, Juan Manuel Zurano, Eduardo Guerrero, Amador Rojas, Alejandro Rodríguez. Cante: Enrique Soto, Rafael de Utrera, Pepe de Pura, Jeromo Segura. Guitar: Paco Jarana, Manuel de la Luz. Sax-flute: Ignacio Vidaechea. Percussion: Antonio Coronel. Choreograph: Eva Yerbabuena. Music: Paco Jarana. Lyrics: Horatius García.

Text & photo: Estela Zatania

The eighth day of the Festival de Jerez at the Sala la Compañía, withing the series titled “Los Novísimos” [newcomers], Cádiz dancer Juan Ogalla, who partnered Cristina Hoyos from 1993 to 2000 presented his show with Pedro Sierra on guitar and the excellent trio of singers made up of Pepe de Pura, David Lagos and Luis Moneo. His classical line and updated choreography make for an interesting offering, but as on other occasions in the Sala la Compañía, the program contained long instrumental and cante solos which the audience had little patience for.

Life as seen by Eva Yerbabuena, and it’s a grim, inhospitable place

You arrive at the Villamarta theater twenty minutes before the hour announced for “A Cuatro Voces” with Eva Yerbabuena’s group, and as you’re getting settled in you realize there are already three dancer actors on the stage doing a slow-motion pantomime of everyday activities: one is falling asleep on a chair with a copy of the Holy Bible in his hands, another is seated on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling, yet another is folding pieces of paper and every four or five minutes, oranges come rolling slowly across the floor from the wings. You have the impression the three have been carrying on for hours in this way with their own private ballet…the dance of life if you will. Now and again an offstage voice recites poetic phrases disguised as the typical warnings to turn off cell phones or refrain from taking pictures. The spiritual preparation is not unwelcome when you’ve just hopped out of a taxi and are still hyperventilating from the hustle-bustle of modern life. The final words, “life as I see it” invite us to enter into the world of Eva Yerbabuena.

This show of Eva’s that we saw at the last Bienal de Flamenco de Sevilla carries a heavy payload of symbolism, some of it more effective than others, and the “cuatro voces” or four voices alluded to in the title are those of poets Miguel Hernández, Vicente Aleixandre, Federico García Lorca and Blas de Otero from whose work the verses are taken. Intellectual overload perhaps for those of us who just want to see Yerbabuena dance in case she should reach those glorious moments that sometimes come to this dancer and which make all which preceded seem like filler.

Serrana, siguiriya, fandangos, soleá por bulería, tientos tangos, nana, soleá... Like so many shows these days, the program promises flamenco galore, but the glaring scarcity of cante – four fine singers, but little cante – makes the final result fall much closer to the realm of international modern dance than flamenco, although there are some high-quality moments and several very effective theatrical elements. The overall aesthetic and imagery owes a great deal to the metaphysical art movement as typified in paintings by Magritte or de Chirico: Eva in a rumpled white nightgown seated beneath an overhead spot clutching a pair of men’s shoes, women who look like priests from a distant galaxy, falling leaves, a long black sailor’s rope with knots that singer Rafael de Utrera, barefoot, manipulates as if it were a rosary, singer Pepe de Pura (who also sang at seven in the Juan Ogalla show) singing on his knees, individuals who roam about the stage seemingly oblivious to the central action. Life as seen by Eva Yerbabuena, and it’s a grim, inhospitable place – even the Farruquito-style bulerías she dances, and which would be the envy of many male dancers, communicates more desperation than fiesta. And what’s that outsized stuffed dog doing at the rear of the stage?

Guitarist Paco Jarana’s music is beautiful and some original ideas, particularly in the soleá, are truly inspired. Eva finds her own personal “duende” briefly now and again, but there’s no spontaneity – not one blink of an eye hasn’t been programmed with its corresponding musical response – and the effect becomes tedious. On planet Yerbabuena everything is perfectly under control, but it’s not too much fun.

One important change compared to the version of this work presented at the Bienal is that now Eva dances the final soleá instead of standing immobile staring out at the audience. The offstage voice has been maintained, ending again with “this is my place and I wouldn’t change it for any other” and now, it seems to explain Eva Yerbabuena’s compelling need to communicate her vision through dance.

Another important facet of flamenco which identifies it as an unmistakably Andalusian artform.

Shortly afterwards in the bodega Los Apóstoles, Chano Lobato, Matilde Coral y José Luis Ortiz Nuevo, with a little help from Rafael el Negro, Matilde’s husband and a fine dancer in his own right, did an about-face to what we’d seen at the Villamarta. Here, everything was spontaneous and full of fun, and if Chano told the same anecdotes as always, our laughter was as sincere as on other occasions, and Matilde’s snippets of dance and delightful asides made us recall this other important facet of flamenco which identifies it as an unmistakably Andalusian art form.