Interview with Amador Rojas.

Interview by Pablo San Nicasio

Debuts 'Mandala' at the Arteria Coliseum de Madrid

“The most important thing in flamenco is the feeling”

We caught him at the hotel, just a few short hours from the premiere performance in Madrid of “Mandala”, his intimate contemplative flamenco work.  Amador Rojas is a dancer of impulse and emotions.  And although he was in a whirlwind of last-minute preparation, Amador had no qualms about cluing us in on his way of seeing things.  The man from Los Palacios is always sincere, even out there on stage.

This show you’re debuting in Madrid came into being two years ago.
Yes, in Seville, after doing the show about Frida Kahlo.  Nevertheless, it’s a work that has not been performed much, and I like the idea of picking up on it.  And now, in Madrid, right on the Gran Vía…imagine”.

What is Mandala?
It’s a very personal concept of dance, because basically, it’s just me and the musicians.  Each one has his solo, his moment, where he and my dancing encounter each other.  It’s a ritual, very much in the line of Oriental philosophy, with references to Shiva, to Indian ethnicity, where they say gypsies came from…although the focus is flamenco, of course.

I do a solo to violin, which is the instrument that most inspires my body, and carries it aloft.  Another with guitar, which represents speech…and each one like that.  The percussion means the feet, cante is the inspiration, the stories people around me tell me…each one has a well-defined mission.

We’re also together for farruca, tangos, alegrías and soleá…but the strong moment is individual, for each one.

And I don’t end with bulerías, because it doesn’t fit.  Sometimes it’s okay, you can finish like that and everyone’s happy, then you go out for your drink or whatever…but Mandala doesn’t lead to a fiesta finale, it needs something else, you’ll see.

“And I don’t end with bulerías, because it doesn’t fit.  Sometimes it’s okay, you can finish like that and everyone’s happy, then you go out for your drink or whatever…but Mandala doesn’t lead to a fiesta finale, it needs something else, you’ll see”.

You’ve got a group of musicians who know you well.
I never look for a certain kind of guitarist, this one or that one, just so long as he plays, that’s all.  We have to stick together and, unless there’s something unexpected on the agenda, as in this case with the violins, I always tend to bring in musicians close to me, people I’ve had longstanding contact with, people who know me.

For example, Jesús de Rosario, no newcomer.  He wrote all the music for the show, except the introduction, which is Yo-Yo Ma’s music.  Jesús is like family for me, we’re on the same wave-length, and we try to make every show different.  Jesús, the rest of the musicians and me.  That’s what’s behind Mandala, the exclusivity of each instant.  In the case of Jesús, his guitar is at the forefront, as it should be.  I can’t have disposable guitarists that come and go, because it just wouldn’t be the same.  And on this occasion he’s with his brother Quilino, as young as he is, you can’t imagine how the kid plays…  The singers are El Pulga and La Tana, and Luis Amador is on percussion, he’s also top of the line.

Why are you using Juan Habichuela III ?
I heard him play last year in Granada, at the Corral del Carbón.  We were all at the entrance to the auditorium when we heard this incredible guitar from the distance.  We asked who it was, he was rehearsing with Kike, Enrique Morente’s son.

His guitar sounds incredible.  I spoke to him and we came to an agreement.  He’s going to be a star.

He plays ten minutes before I go on.  And I told him to play whatever he wants, today rondeña, tomorrow soleá…whatever.  I think we need to help each other.  The fact that today he’s playing guitar isn’t going to take anything away from me, and flamenco comes out ahead.  You don’t see that anymore, flamencos don’t help each other, and that’s not right.

When we put Frida Kahlo together I also had people from other companies, I was trying to help, it’s not so strange, or at least it shouldn’t be.

Talk to me about your beginnings, and the people who saw you grow up.
Well, I would have to mention Salvador Távora, without a doubt.  I went to get into his company and he said “Do you like what Mario Maya does” and me, well obviously I answered that I did.  “And do you know how to do turns?”  So I did some turns as best I could.  He said I was very “racial”, very personal…and I was touring with him for five years, doing Carmen.  That was what triggered my professional life.

Then I went back to Seville, where I’d broken in at the tablaos and where I met and joined the companies of the Montoya Family, the Galváns, Pilar Távora, Manuela Carrasco…they were my teachers.

 

“The fact that today he’s playing guitar isn’t going to take anything away from me, and flamenco comes out ahead.  You don’t see that anymore, flamencos don’t help each other, and that’s not right.”

And Farruco?
I started with him when I was seven, but I couldn’t understand his teaching until I was fifteen or sixteen.  My father knew he was the best gypsy dancer of his time, and he gave me seven or eight classes, no more.  At first he told me I had to wake up the upper half of my body, because I had no problem with feet.  It was he who filled my veins with flamenco and who first tried me out on stage in the small towns, when I was seven or eight…

Until Eva Yerbabuena came along…
Between her and me, we saw I couldn’t adapt to being in a company, that I would have to go my own way.  It was hard, but it couldn’t be any other way.  I left the group, I was very unmotivated, I came to Madrid with nothing to lose.

That’s quite the tradition, trying one’s luck in Madrid.
Yes, it is.  My little suitcase, 50 euros and trying find someone to give me a bed and a place to work….trying out at tablaos and such…

They took me at Arco de Cuchilleros, and one night Antonio Canales stopped by.  Just think…he came and spoke to me, and said he wanted me for his show “Los Grandes del Flamenco”…it was like being born again.  That gesture of going to see me at the tablao, him being so important…you don’t see that any more.

And that also has to do with what I said about Juan Habichuela in my show.  Making room for people who are starting out.  In my case, my gratitude towards Canales is even greater, because I’m not the type who’s constantly knocking on doors to get programmed, it’s not my style, my way of being is dancing, not bureaucracy, I’m not prepared to make the rounds looking for work.

“They took me at Arco de Cuchilleros, and one night Antonio Canales stopped by.  Just think…he came and spoke to me, and said he wanted me for his show “Los Grandes del Flamenco”…it was like being born again.  That gesture of going to see me at the tablao, him being so important…you don’t see that any more.”

 

You don’t seem like a dancer who likes to look to the past.
Personally, I can’t stand what I see going on.  The “guiris” (foreigners) are given flamenco the way it was done seventy years ago.  They dress a girl up like a gypsy, artlessly, with a hair-comb….and then she doesn’t say anything with alegrías or tangos…looking to the past in flamenco doesn’t lead to anything.  You have to look for other aesthetics, and combine things.  I’d love to dance with Beyoncé or with Prince.  Look at people like Rubén Olmo, Rafael Estévez, Israel Galván…they know the past of flamenco inside and out, they have it in them, but they don’t harp on it.  They’re at the forefront.

What’s important to you in all this?

Above all else, feeling.  That each moment be unique, feeling is what makes people jump to their feet without realizing it.  And in that sense, flamenco is different from any other artform.  The people in charge ought to know that.  They don’t look after flamenco.  Yes, they want it to survive, but that’s one thing, and quite another to take care of it, pamper it, like a living being, you have to go beyond.

 

Salir de la versión móvil