FANTASTIC VOYAGE

Dance, choreography and stage direction: Israel Galván. Guitar: Alfredo Lagos. Cante: Fernando Terremoto, Juan José Amador. Dance, palmas and compás: Bobote. Percussion: José Carrasco. Poet: David Pielfort. Group “Orthodox”: Marco Serrato, Ricardo Jiménez, Borja Díaz. Verdiales group: Eloisa Sánchez, José Manuel Vaquero “Pájaro”, Álvaro Garrido, Luis Alfonso García “Chiqui”. Group “Proyectoele: José Manuel Gil, Carlos Cansino, Miguel Hernández, Vicky Noguero, Jesús Romero, Diego Vargas, Raquel Vela. Grupo “Proyecto Lorca”: Antonio Moreno, Juan Jiménez Alba. Artistic director: Pedro G. Romero

Fasten your seatbelts, place your seats in upright position, abandon all former concepts about flamenco and prepare yourself for another world premiere from flamenco’s enfant terrible and official genius, Israel Galván.

And speaking of “enfant terrible”, curiosity sent me to Google for some background on the term. Turns out there was an imaginary character from the French comics who was thus known and who “generates a potent force capable of transmuting elements, reorganizing matter, giving life to inanimate objects and is an adult with the mind of a child”. Oddly enough, that’s a cannily accurate description of Israel Galván’s artistic personality.

It’s not possible to review this man’s work as flamenco, nor as dance, nor even as theater. His capacity as a dancer is uncuestionable, his technique, impeccable, his people (musicians, lighting, staging, atrezzo, etc. ), top of the line, and his spiritual innocence, absolute. His pranks never seem histrionic or phony, but rather a highly personal way of exorcising certain private demons we all wrestle with. Few artists from any genre, find such a direct hotline to their own psyche.

 Everything on stage, including the silence, is a potential vehicle or toy to be manipulated

What’s arguable is whether all those messages inside his head are efficiently communicated. The most generalized public opinion, the kind of comment most heard over beers after the show when people express themselves freely, could be summed up as: “some things yes, some things no”. Which is perfectly logical in view of Galván’s innovative experimental nature. For Israel, not only his body, but everything on stage, including the silence, is a potential vehicle or toy to be manipulated, not according to established forms, but his own intuitive ones. This is dangerous terrain that Israel Galván nearly always navigates masterfully.

And in that “nearly” reside several dubious elements: a heavy-metal group that, far from doing a short spot, occupies a good portion of the work whose length, not counting intermission, is two and a half hours. Several instrumental interludes lacking in Hispanic or flamenco references provoke that unpleasant feeling of “what am I doing here?”. The video of one of Israel’s advanced students goes on far too long. It seems on this occasion the genius had a surplus of ideas, and when, after a knock-down-drag-out ending with Israel writhing on the floor, practically assaulting the musicians to pull their instruments from their hands, all this on a small gliding platform, a voice announces “15 minutes intermission”, there’s a collective “oooooh!” which reflects the audience’s surprise that we’re only at the half-way point of the show.

Few artists from any genre, find such a direct hotline to their own psyche

From a personal point of view, the obvious absence of spontaneity becomes tiresome. Classic flamenco forms let the artist create in the heat of the moment. Israel Galván’s creative process takes place months before the curtain goes up, and the extreme perfection of this show, all the more admirable considering the complexity of a work in its premiere in which 23 musicians and actors are on stage at some moment or other, is extraordinary. It seems to be a golden rule: in traditional flamenco you sell your soul to the forms in exchange for spontaneity. Israel refuses to make that pact, and condemns himself to seek freedom via the meticulous preparation of each and every gesture. It’s a tough road, but few people are better qualified to make the trip than Israel who achieves absolute harmony with his collaborating artists; even the props obey. If in “Arena” it was a metallic rocking-chair, here it’s a dangerously unstable movable platform that, like an amusement park ride, suddenly folds depending on where you step, or the dance inside a coffin standing on end (don’t ask, you have to see it to believe it).

Flamenco’s enfant terrible and official genius

For those looking for more precise commentary, Fernando Terremoto and Juan José Amador on cante, Alfredo Lagos on guitar, Bobote on compás and whatever and Diego Carrasco for sheer flamenconess, do not disappoint, they’re as great as always and their participation is the referential touch, the taking-off point. The verdiales group dresses in basic black, even in the traditionally colorful headgear. Poet actor David Pielfort provides comic relief with his grimaces and gibberish, and traditional Christmas, Holy Week and pilgrimage music, in addition to plenty of recognizable compás, provide nourishment for this fantastic voyage to the center of Israel Galván’s mind.

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Special MÁLAGA EN FLAMENCO