Málaga Symphony Orchestra. Director, Francis de Gálvez. Amor brujo: Antonia Contreras, (cante). José Luis Ortiz Nuevo (the gypsy). Suite flamenca:. Antonio Soto (guitar), Bonela hijo (cante), Gema and Pepe (palmas and footwork), Juan Heredia (percussion). 8:00pm, Sala Falla.

Text: Estela Zatania
Photos: Málaga en Flamenco (Álvaro Cabrera)

GOOD INTENTIONS

Thursday evening at Málaga en Flamenco brought a symphony orchestra to the realm of flamenco, just as Camarón de la Isla did decades ago, and as so many others would do thereafter. It’s not a trouble-free marriage. The traditional flamenco fan is confronted with the challenge of relating obsessively guarded flamenco memories of humble get-togethers with the image of a man with his back to the audience, waving a baton in front of thirty classical musicians, each with music-stand and sheet music. We know, because we’re grown-ups, that against all odds the duende will make an effort to be present, but there won’t be chocolate and crullers at dawn.

The cozy Sala Falla, less than half full, fills with lush music. Flamenco can be fished out in small, stingy, minuscule doses. Solo singer Antonia Contreras, despite her voice full of potentially flamenco undertones, has always had a delivery that is more lyrical than flamenco, so she’s the ideal person for the task. However, she does more reciting than singing, muddy sound makes it impossible to understand what she says and even she herself fails to see herself in this role. The multitalented and surprising José Luis Ortiz Nuevo also participates with recitation, and his voice is equally overshadowed by the music. The overall impact is minimal, and the oppressive heat inside the small theater adds to the tedium that grows by the second.

Even so, the musical message is well-known and loved by all, and one’s imagination is alive with shadows of the great Antonio and Antonio Gades that dart in and out with snippets of their legendary interpretations. When it’s over, we all head for the theater bar humming melodies from this classic work of Manuel de Falla, the true star of the show.

The second part brought more satisfying results thanks to the very flamenco guitar of Antonio Soto whom we saw just days earlier accompanying Manuel Agujetas. With the same symphony orchestra as in the first part, he played a series of compositions by the orchestra’s conductor, Francis de Gálvez, commissioned by Málaga en Flamenco. Rumba, taranta, alegrías, soleá, malagueñas, verdiales and bulerías, and between pieces, Ortiz Nuevo recites poems in honor of the eightieth anniversary of the so-called “Generación del ‘27”. All else aside, it was a pleasure to hear singer Bonela hijo outside the context of a contest.

FLAMENCO’S BERGMAN

Flamenco para la Traviata. CompañíaLa Cuadra de Sevilla. Director: Salvador Távora. Dance: María Távora, El Mistela. Cante: Ana Real, José Ángel Carmona. Guita: Manuel Berraquero, Miguel Aragón. Percussion: Juan Romero. Fiesta dancing: Juan Romero. Classic ballerina: Carolina Morales. Masked players: Juanjo Díaz, Viridiana Ramírez. Actor on stilts: Francisco Torres. Extras: Fernando Merino, Andrés Niebla. 11:00pm, Teatro Cánovas.

This fantasy evocation based on the story and music of Verdi’s Traviata, is pure Távora. Bizarre images, carnival masks, a person on stilts dressed as a harlequin, a noisy machine whose function it is to produce sparks, a handsome dancing white horse and bloodstains from the consumptive heroine of the story alternate with the prim innocent sweetness of a classic ballet dancer in toe shoes and extracts of the original opera, all tinged and held together by a generous serving of flamenco, thanks to the sensitivity and solid background of our own Andalusian Bergman, director Salvador Távora.

The black and white aesthetic which is a constant with this director, is only alleviated by the flash of color which is always charged with meaning, in this case, the red blood that begins as a harbinger of death, and in a clever reprise becomes the three “roses” that appear on the handkerchief of a wedding song to give us back our optimism before heading for home. It takes a fine sense of theater to control so many elements without falling into the ridiculous or merely effectist. Távora has been taking risks for three decades, and once again he floats up to the surface with this well-conceived and entertaining work.

From a strictly flamenco perspective, the most noteworthy element, by a huge margin, is dancer Mistela, compact, decided and mature in everything he does, especially a farruca in the Pelao style. The classic ballerina, excellent to the eyes of someone who lacks all criteria in this type of dancing, is sublimely obscene as she innocently tiptoes around so much blood and tragedy; horror and beauty side by side, the surrealistic specialty of the house of Távora.

A mini anthology of some twelve styles of fandangos, courtesy of the two young singers, sets the mood as classic ballet, flamenco and opera join forces in this unsettling, interesting work.

More information:

Special MÁLAGA EN FLAMENCO