Special 14th Bienal de Flamenco de Sevilla. Reviews, programa, photos...

Text.: Estela Zatania

Pastora Galván “La francesa”
Saturday, September 16, 2006. 9:00pm Teatro Central

Dance: Pastora Galván. Music director and guitar: Pedro Sierra. Guitar: Miguel Iglesias. Cante: David Lagos, Antonio Villar. Accordion and hurdy-gurdy: José Manuel Vaquero. Double bass and electric bass: Álvaro Ramos. Cajón: José Carrasco. Percussion: Manuel Vergne.

Important goings-on at the Teatro Central Saturday night September 16th within the Bienal de Flamenco de Sevilla. First of all, it can now be considered a given that Pastora Galván is one of flamenco dance’s brightest stars. Aside from the fact that her brother Israel choreographed this new work, last night Pastora stopped being “the sister of...” and claimed her rightful place within the elite circle of great flamenco dancers.

Already in March of this year the dancer caused a sensation with her show “Del Cielo a la Tierra”, a recital of the most classic kind of flamenco with only guitar and cante to back her up, which was one of the most talked-about performances of the prestigious Festival de Jerez. Now, thanks to the prodigious mind of her celebrated big brother, she has been able to demonstrate that the specific gene for creativity is also firmly lodged in her DNA. True enough the work “La Francesa” which premiered at the Teatro Central bears the unmistakable mark of the idiosyncratic Israel Galván. But one must distinguish clearly between what an artist does at a given moment, and his or her artistic capacity. Make no mistake, if you take away the brother’s admirable choreography, this woman is still a tremendously talented dancer.

Pastora stopped being “the sister of...” and claimed her rightful place within the elite circle of great flamenco dancers

“La Francesa” is an intriguing work, profound without excess ideological baggage and above all, it’s entertaining, the prime function of all artistic endeavours, regardless of what elitists might say. Israel Galván is permanently asking a question in his head: why do things have to be the way they are? He asks it in every choreography with the same innocence a child asks why he has to go to bed when the sun sets, and you don’t know what to answer. The rest of us accept accept a complex system of conventions as “established” – Galván questions the very air he breathes, and whatever isn’t convincing, is unceremoniously changed or tossed out. Some of his ideas work better than others, but the misses are few and insignificant.

It’s impossible to ignore the fact that “La Francesa” is a feminist declaration, not strident but totally representative of the current social climate. Pastora flexes the muscles of her compact body, sports the T-shirt of famous soccer player Zinedin Zidane, head-butts the gut of singer David Lagos and struts like John Wayne. But she also makes use of the complete female arsenal as inherited from hundreds of thousands of years of evolution: in one of the most playful scenes she is a cheesey cabaret entertainer who sells her gypsified Spanishness to an imaginary audience, and we are third-degree observers of the whole scene.

A feminist declaration, not strident but totally representative of the current social climate

There are abundant references to France and its culture. The wardrobe reflects the colors of the French flag, there are oblique but continuous allusions to the character of Carmen created by Frenchman Merimée and elaborated upon by Bizet, the music of Bolero by another Frenchman, Ravel, is heard and in general there is an attempt to recreate the stereotypical femme fatale universally associated with Spain and which Israel Galván exaggerates and ridicules because he knows it’s the best way of defusing it.

The music that backs up the dance is in a class by itself, as worthy of admiration in execution and concept as the dancing. Guitarist Pedro Sierra who is also music director, is impressive. We are surprised by the sound of a hurdy-gurdy, David Lagos, in addition to singing soleá por bulería, romance and cantiñas, interprets bits of Edith Piaf’s song “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” in French and Spanish, another song in the strange Basque language, the sound of an accordion transports us to Paris in the nineteen-twenties, suddenly “Los Cuatro Muleros” played on the xylophone (all the music is live and the musicians are on stage), strains of zorongo gitano, the guitar reiterates the rondeña tones Israel is so fond of, “Una Paloma Blanca” takes us back to the seventies, and yet another decade is evoked with “Buana Buana King Kong”, “Fuera de Mí” of José el Francés and when the music of “Sevilla” rings out we are reminded that we’re in Andalucía. Israel makes free use of the collective memory (but acknowledgement on the program of the respective authors of these classics would have been nice).

The galactic Israel Galván has managed to create the perfect vehicle to show off his sister’s talent and personality

After the curtain finally came down upon the body of Pastora stretched out on the floor leaving her upper half on the audience side, the fiesta finale came off in the most conventional way with Pedro Sierra’s little dance.

The galactic Israel Galván has managed to create the perfect vehicle to show off his sister’s talent and personality, but how are we veteran flamenco fans to assimilate all this? How can we relate it to the dance of la Malena and la Macarrona, that of Carmen Amaya or even Manuela Carrasco who continues to be totally relevant? Quite frankly, I have no idea. Suffice it to say that a new work has been born, it has all its extremities, is breathing normally and must be visited in order to comprehend the magnitude of the genius of brother and sister Galván.

Amador, Amador
Saturday, September 16th, 2006. 11:30pm Hotel Triana

Raimundo, Juan José junior and senior, Diego, Ramón junior and senior, two Luises and a Carmen. Amadors one and all, brought together on the stage of the Hotel Triana. Piano, voices, percussion, guitars and plenty of compás, all with strong references to the eighties when Pata Negra and Camarón were all that young people needed to know about flamenco.

Amador, Amador . Photo: Rafael Manjavacas

But far from a sentimental journey, the younger generation, represented by the children of the parents, staked their claim to the relevance of this aesthetic that just doesn’t quit. The long siguiriya by Juan José Amador was a declation of authenticity, Diego Amador played bulerías on the piano to accompany his own cante, some mining cante with Juan José senior, in addition to cantiñas, bulerías, tantos and “Ay, José” that was a major hit in its day.

All too soon came the end with the little bulerías dances – so much Amador, so little music, only 50 minutes in total. But the neighborhood was happy to have seen its own, and the diversity of flamenco was perfectly served beween the two shows on this day of the Bienal de Sevilla, 2006.

Familia Amador

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