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All
the information IX Festival de Jerez
Antonio Canales, Lola Greco,
Diego Llori
“Carmen, Carmela”
Tuesday, March 1st, 2005. 9:00pm Teatro Villamarta, Jerez
Rocío Molina “Entre
paredes”
Tuesday, March 1st, 2005. 7:00pm. Sala la Compañía,
Jerez
“Carmen, Carmela”. Dance: Antonio Canales,
Lola Greco, Diego Llori. Guitar: Daniel Méndez, Paco
Iglesias. Cante: Herminia Borja, José Valencia. Sound
track: guitar, Juan Víctor Rodríguez Yagüe,
José Antonio Rodríguez, Niño de Pura,
Serafín Arriaza. Flute: Luis Orden. Percussion: Pedro
Vicedo. Bass: Manuel Marbizón. Chorus: Teatro Maestranza
de Sevilla. Choreography: Antonio Canales. Musical adaptation:
Juan Víctor Rodríguez Yagüe.
“Entre paredes”. Dance: Rocío Molina.
Cante: Rafael Jiménez “Falo”, David Lagos.
Guitar: Paco Cruz, Manuel Cazás. Percussion: Sergio
Martínez. Double bass: Miguel Rodrigáñez.
Text: Estela Zatania
The need to take risks…the
rejection of banality
Guitarist Javier Patino and singer Rocío Bazán
opened the fifth day of the Festival de Jerez in the intimate
setting of the Villavicencio palace, and both young artists
demonstrated that good, solid flamenco will be around for
some time yet. It would be nice if future editions of the
festival might expand this part of the program to include
more acoustic recitals in small venues of “cante with
guitar” as it’s now called, by young artists.
At the Villamarta theater Antonio Canales presented his most
recent work, “Carmen, Carmela”, the title reflecting
that the show is based on Merimeè’s classic story
using the idiom of Spanish and flamenco dance: at the previous
day’s press conference Canales explained that the nickname
for Carmen in Andalusía is “Carmela”.
Photo: Luis Malibrán
You get used to approaching a Canales show with your fingers
crossed behind your back. Like many artistic geniuses, he
is an uneven artist: spontaneous creativity is not usually
characterized by consistency. Great successes and great failures
are the mark of authenticity of the artist with something
to say and who is not content to repeat formulas that worked
in the past. The need to take risks, and the rejection of
banality are the two faces of the coin Canales traffics in.
There are but three dancers in this show: Canales, Lola Greco
and Diego Llori. And it’s quite enough because this
limited staff does what multitudinous groups have been unable
to do even with fat budgets: put on a well-constructed, interesting
and entertaining show that is very Spanish and very flamenco.
Canales’ gut-wrenching cry of “Caaarmeeen!”,
like a Spanish Brando crying “Steeellaaa!” in
“A Streetcar Named Desire” gets the action going
and broadcasts that we’re about to see a Canales in
the interpretative facet he commands so well. If at Seville’s
last Bienal we saw a tired, aging dancer, here he has bounced
back into the groove and is right at home.
Singers Herminia Borja with
her warm, roughed-up voice, and José Valencia with
his aggressive, young and very flamenco one, show how important
it is to have good cante
The music weaves guitar music with Bizet’s score, managing
to avoice the obvious pitfalls such an undertaking implies,
and theatrical scenes are alternated with dance with equal
ease. Kudos to director Miguel Narros who has achieved a vivid
production of a classic story that has had enough reincarnations
to make yet another dangerously superfluous.
Lola Greco is magnificent, fascinating…if María
Pagés is all arms, this lady is all legs, and she does
impossible things with them. Someone had the naughty idea
of having her do one dance in skimpy, black undergarments,
and it was a flash of genius carried off with impeccably good
taste. Greco interprets another dance smoking a cigarette
bringing back images of Marlene Dietrich, and her expressive
eyes project all the way to the last row. She also interprets
some purely classical dances showing off her admirable preparation.
Diego Llori does a fine job, managing to hold his own with
farruca and siguiriya without getting lost in the outsized
shadows of his two colleagues. Singers Herminia Borja with
her warm, roughed-up voice, and José Valencia with
his aggressive, young and very flamenco one, show how important
it is to have good cante – without them the show would
have been considerably diminished.
A long time ago Antonio Canales acquired a state of grace
with this reviewer which makes everything he does appear to
radiate genius, even at his worst moments. In Carmen, Carmela
the dancer has many good moments without reaching the full
potential of his abilities. But any possible flaw in his dancing
is more than compensated by the sheer force of his artistic
personality which is convincing even in the most dramatic
sequences.
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Rocio Molina
(photo: © Javier Suarez)
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If the Festival de Jerez gave a prize for “best newcomer”,
dancer Rocío Molina (Málaga, 1984) would have
won it handily on Monday with her performance at the Sala
la Compañía. She makes reviewers scramble to
find praiseful adjectives that haven’t been worn out
on other artists. Without a doubt she is original, and it’s
not common to find so much personality in one so young. Malagueña
leads into tangos del Piyayo, guajira, soleá…but
the forms are the least of it because this girl is quite a
dancer, an artist still in the making and already she displays
more integrity and inspiration than some prominent stars.
With a curvilinear body straight out of a Rubens painting
(she needs a more flattering wardrobe), Rocío demonstrated
an extraordinary capacity to stir emotions by juxtaposing
opposites: she executes some of the most sensual, subtle and
seductive moves seen in flamenco dance, but if you blink,
suddenly she’s cold, hard steel. There are moments of
humor and irony, even parody and caricature of hackneyed steps
carried over the top, and occasionally the dancer goes into
a nearly religious state of ecstasy which is as fascinating
as it is unsettling. Command, good taste, intelligence and
an infallible compás backed up by her natural strength
make Rocío Molina an important figure in the current
panorama of young flamenco dancers.
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