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Published: March 30th 2006
Thank
dios for onomatopoeia!
Necessity is not only the mother of invention but also of discovery. Out of psychological necessity, I had to flee the house last night, and found refuge in a flamenco dive. Not really a dive. It was less divey than a dive. And it was fabulous.
Imagine... small tables crowding around a small stage. Candles casting a warm glow through the tintos on every face. People close. Dark. Intimate.
Clap cla cla cla clap. Stomp. Stomp. .(a heartbeat, an unpredictable pause)..STOMP.
Now enter two guitars. Subtle. Elegant. Unpredictable. The guitars and the manual percussion respect each other´s space.
Now a voice. Deep and masculine, but wailing with pain and strength. Arabic moorish trills that remind me of honey and almonds and prayer. Singing of the pain in his
corazón (the last syllable of that one beautiful word stretched into six) and of how black his lover´s hair is.
All clad in black against a black background.
And then the light illuminates her, and everything in the room disappears. She´s 40-something and small and wearing simple flamenco garb (nothing trite). Her black hair is carefully restrained in a bun. Subtle makeup.
Muscular, powerful arms. She captivates. Her eyes are closed and her face serious. Her head is held high and she is powerful. Each movement is intentional and controlled. Her hands are articulate and her feet punctuate their sentences with stomps. As fast as hummingbirds, her hands move around her, blurring the image to both my camera and my eye. They stop only with intention, and they do so beautifully. All is performed for a singular purpose. She is proud. She is not ashamed or afraid of her gift. She dances. Her companions cheer her on in a ¨you go girl¨kind of way. ¨¡Julia!¨ ¨¡Olé!¨they say. Everyone loves what she is sharing. More graceful than a torreador, she is in complete control.
There are other dancers, and they each take their turn, and each is cheered on. At the end, the waiters and the guitarists dance, and they too are cheered. So much positive energy. This is no competition. No bravado. It is a community. Pride. Power. I could imagine the poor people of the
barrio collecting in the square to sing and dance and share in their common misery and joy. It was unlike anything I´ve ever seen.
Madrid aglow.
The city just becomes more beautiful when the sun goes down.I cannot possibly do it justice with words or photographs. I´ve been told that flamenco comes in many shapes and sizes (traditional, classic, folk, modern, pop), and I don´t know what to call this, but it was perfection.
The domestic drama that drove me to flamenco isn´t worth recounting. But I´m so thankful for having had such a bad day, because it earned me such an amazing night. As I walked home after 1, the city was still aglow and alive with people. And I was part of it. I think some of Julia´s chi followed me home that night. Julia. Olé.
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Rob
non-member comment
Oh Michellio!
Thank you so much for sharing these magic moments with us. You transported me away for a few moments to a world of dreams. :-)