Dance, artistic direction, choreography: Andrés Marín.Cante: José Valencia, Segundo Falcón. Guitar: Salvador Gutiérrez. Piano: Pablo Suárez. Percussion: Antonio Coronel.
The fourth day of the Nimes Flamenco Festival began with a conference on Paco de Lucía given by Norberto Torres: «Niño de Algeciras, Príncipe de Asturias».Throughout the week master classes are also being held in dance and compás with Fuensanta «La Moneta», Andrés Marín and Diego Carrasco.
In the evening, the first of three recitals in the Teatro de Nimes was held.Andrés Marín's «El Alba del Último Día», which premiered at the last Bienal de Sevilla, has become distilled, profiling the clarity of a perspective which is simultaneously futurist and retro, an aesthetic of the nineteen-thirties which is reinforced by popular music of the era that sounds throughout the theatre before the curtain goes up, and audiovisuals that speak of the three great cafes cantantes, Chinitas in Málaga, the Kursaal in Sevilla and the Suizo in Granada, that closed their doors in the space of one year, right at the beginning of Spain's civil war.That's a lot of historic baggage for a dance show, but if you ignore the program notes, it all goes down more easily.
A lesson in how to stir emotions through composure and dignity
Andrés Marín's genius, and the high quality of the elements he has brought together for this work, yield a creation firmly anchored in the most classic sort of flamenco while sporting an absolutely contemporary image.These are objectives similar to Israel Galván's, with the difference being that Marín's priorities are more user-friendly and direct, and the dancer places all his bets on two essential elements: cante and compás.
A piano at stage-left, a metallic platform towards the rear that will later be used to dance upon and a small round table where guitarist, percussionist and singers are seated is the sober stage set.The clicking of dice on the table is answered by Marín's footwork. Silences are full of drama, and intelligent lighting makes the most of Marín's shadow, a sort of phantom dance partner, projected onto the backdrop.The malagueña duet with Segundo Falcón and José Valencia alternating and superimposing lines is a stroke of genius that delights the audience.This is when you remember that Marín has a solid background in cante to fuel his flamenco creativity.In fact, the range of cantes is impressive, from tonás and caña, to fandangos de Lucena and Granada, soleá, siguiriya, tangos de Triana, mining cante…a wealth of traditional cante.
Anchored in the most classic sort of flamenco while sporting an absolutely contemporary image
The guitar's altered tuning in the siguiriya adds a dramatic angle that enhances Marín's sober dancing, the solid singing of the three cantaores and Antonio Coronel's surprising percussion.It is an absolutely coherent dialogue, a lesson in how to stir emotions through composure and dignity.
The soleá de Triana is perfectly classic, and the dancer repeatedly obliges us to rethink everything we'd formerly held dear about flamenco.Andrés Marín is one of the most interesting dancers of the current scene.He explores new frontiers and pushes the limits in a direction which is always flamenco, revealing a future that already took place, and making everything that has been done in flamenco dance until now seem like a rehash.Other works are less interesting the second time around.This one grows on you and leaves you hungry for more of the same.
FESTIVAL DE NIMES
Andrés Marín «El alba del último día» Teatro de Nimes, Francia. January 25th, 2007. 8:00pm
Dance, artistic direction, choreography: Andrés Marín.Cante: José Valencia, Segundo Falcón. Guitar: Salvador Gutiérrez. Piano: Pablo Suárez. Percussion: Antonio Coronel.
The fourth day of the Nimes Flamenco Festival began with a conference on Paco de Lucía given by Norberto Torres: «Niño de Algeciras, Príncipe de Asturias».Throughout the week master classes are also being held in dance and compás with Fuensanta «La Moneta», Andrés Marín and Diego Carrasco.
In the evening, the first of three recitals in the Teatro de Nimes was held.Andrés Marín's «El Alba del Último Día», which premiered at the last Bienal de Sevilla, has become distilled, profiling the clarity of a perspective which is simultaneously futurist and retro, an aesthetic of the nineteen-thirties which is reinforced by popular music of the era that sounds throughout the theatre before the curtain goes up, and audiovisuals that speak of the three great cafes cantantes, Chinitas in Málaga, the Kursaal in Sevilla and the Suizo in Granada, that closed their doors in the space of one year, right at the beginning of Spain's civil war.That's a lot of historic baggage for a dance show, but if you ignore the program notes, it all goes down more easily.
A lesson in how to stir emotions through composure and dignity
Andrés Marín's genius, and the high quality of the elements he has brought together for this work, yield a creation firmly anchored in the most classic sort of flamenco while sporting an absolutely contemporary image.These are objectives similar to Israel Galván's, with the difference being that Marín's priorities are more user-friendly and direct, and the dancer places all his bets on two essential elements: cante and compás.
A piano at stage-left, a metallic platform towards the rear that will later be used to dance upon and a small round table where guitarist, percussionist and singers are seated is the sober stage set.The clicking of dice on the table is answered by Marín's footwork. Silences are full of drama, and intelligent lighting makes the most of Marín's shadow, a sort of phantom dance partner, projected onto the backdrop.The malagueña duet with Segundo Falcón and José Valencia alternating and superimposing lines is a stroke of genius that delights the audience.This is when you remember that Marín has a solid background in cante to fuel his flamenco creativity.In fact, the range of cantes is impressive, from tonás and caña, to fandangos de Lucena and Granada, soleá, siguiriya, tangos de Triana, mining cante…a wealth of traditional cante.
Anchored in the most classic sort of flamenco while sporting an absolutely contemporary image
The guitar's altered tuning in the siguiriya adds a dramatic angle that enhances Marín's sober dancing, the solid singing of the three cantaores and Antonio Coronel's surprising percussion.It is an absolutely coherent dialogue, a lesson in how to stir emotions through composure and dignity.
The soleá de Triana is perfectly classic, and the dancer repeatedly obliges us to rethink everything we'd formerly held dear about flamenco.Andrés Marín is one of the most interesting dancers of the current scene.He explores new frontiers and pushes the limits in a direction which is always flamenco, revealing a future that already took place, and making everything that has been done in flamenco dance until now seem like a rehash.Other works are less interesting the second time around.This one grows on you and leaves you hungry for more of the same.
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