Photos: Adam Newby
Una Mirada Lenta. Dance: Ana Morales. Guest artist: David Coria. Guitar: Rafael Rodríguez. Voice: Miguel Ortega and Antonio Campos. Percussion: Daniel Suárez. Teatro Central de Sevilla, Flamenco Viene del Sur. Tuesday, March 21st. Two-thirds attendance.
Getting settled into our seats, we see Ana Morales at the rear of the stage, in the dark, taking time to find herself. There is silence, and she slowly approaches, with no rush, defending a way of dancing that is all hers: paused, deeply felt, delicate, elegant, measured, a search between the organic and the spiritual.
At that point we thought there could be no better way to celebrate Poetry Day than with this dancer’s show, because she is dance that writes poetry. And like that of Cernuda, no words were spoken, only an interrogative figure approached, posing questions that do not necessarily seek answers. In this work, flamenco is only a path. That is where the thread of the work is situated, and wraps the audience in drama and movement, in the artist’s interior quest and the ode to sensitivity that typifies the project.
Apparent simplicity that conceals the most complex concepts. An explosion of resources not executed through art, but which enrich a new and personal conversation. The knowledgeable way in which she occupies space, the lighting which simulates dreams, Rafael Rodríguez’ thumb that hits the right pulse at every moment and caresses the soul with each gesture, the percussion that constructs rhymes, the voices of Ortega and Campos delivering melodies that whisper desire… And Ana Morales paused, moving from introspection to fury, with her muscles, her arms, her hips, her taut countenance. And all the while…a luminous, brilliant, steadfast David Coria.
Together they touch, they perceive, they find themselves and offer choreographies of great beauty that make us want to always see them like that. Because – Cernuda’s poem again – a brief touch, a swift glance in the shadows, is all it takes to make the body anxious to receive unto itself another body that dreams. And thus, the two are half and half, dream and dream, flesh and flesh, equal in form, equal in love, equal in desire.