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FESTIVAL DE JEREZ.
EL BAILE ES MUJER (DANCE IS A WOMAN). ISABEL BAYÓN, ANA
MARÍA BUENO, MERCHE ESMERALDA AND MILAGROS MENGÍBAR
We're talking Women!
Silvia Calado Olivo. Jerez, 1st March 2002 Credits.
Isabel Bayón, Ana María Bueno, Merche Esmeralda, Milagros Menjíbar: dance. Juan
José Amador, Guadiana, Juañárez, Miguel Ortega, José Anillo, Emilio Cabello, Juan
Reina, Manolo Sevilla: cante (vocals). Paco Arriaga, Manuel Pérez, Antón Jiménez,
Juan Manuel Flores, Eugenio Iglesias, Rafael Rodríguez: toque (music). Sebu, Juan
Martín: percussion. Theatre: Teatro Villamarta. Jerez de la Frontera (Cadiz province),
1st March 2002, 9pm.
"¡Las manos, como palomas!" (Your hands! Like doves!). The phrase Matilde Coral
used to instruct her students in Carlos Saura's film 'Flamenco', went unspoken
last night at Teatro Villamarta... but you could hear it every time that Merche
Esmeralda, that Milagros Menjíbar, that Isabel Bayón, that Ana María Bueno, raised
their arms and reached for the sky. Four women. Four renditions of the 'Sevillana'
school of Andalusian dance (that's how the dance instructress liked to refer to
it). Four exquisite flavours of dance, each in a watercolour portrait.
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Isabel
Bayón
(Photo: Daniel Muñoz)
Ana María Bueno
(Photo: Daniel Muñoz)
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Granted, Milagros Menjíbar shrugged aside the programme and started to pay
tribute to the traditional Flamenco 'bata de cola' dress before time. And yes,
the intervals were seemingly endless. And yes, the show lasted two and a half
hours. And yes, it was female dance, it was solo female dance, it was dance and
only dance. And yes, some styles were repeated. And yes, there was much celebration
of the female form, ample delight taken in posing, much promenading... But casting
aside these gripes, it was a priceless display of what Seville means by Flamenco
dancing with a feminine touch... what it learned from Malena, from Macarrona,
from Pastora.
The opening moments were state-of-the-art, in a supreme display of the vitality
of the school. Isabel Bayón stepped quietly, tentatively onto the stage. Undulating,
creeping like mist. A wave moved across her shoulders, her hips, her arms. No
part of the body was forgotten. And those feet: when they brushed lightly here,
and there... true, unerring. Already deep in a tango, her preferred style, she
overflows with sensuality. Her own brand of sensuality - that with which, 'bata
de cola' at the ready, she throws herself into the alegrías in the second part.
A delicate nymph, at one with harmony more than rhythm. Her whole body becomes
the music as she writhes, as her dress effervesces with every flick of her wrist,
as she comes brusquely to a standstill, as she stops in silence... It is 'Escuela
Sevillana', but brought into the 21st Century.
The dramatic warbling of Juan
José Amador announces the arrival of Ana María Bueno. Robust, dark, harsh, aggressive.
Restrained, immaculate dance, more in tune with the air than with the earth. Elegance,
composure, all arms and hands. The lowering of an arm, time seems to almost stand
still. And the music cuts, seemingly no sooner than it began. And she continues
in this style until the 'bata de cola' appears, fluttering to seguiriyas, as she
taps out almost-forgotten castañuelas. Silence. Now only marking time, she hitches
up her dress, ready to let her feet shuffle a whisper. Now's the time to sing,
Juan, give it all you've got, she's ready to paint masterpieces in the air. |
Merche Esmeralda was received with an ovation. After a
brief introduction, sparse 'compás' marking time, the grand lady, hardened in
a thousand battles, plunges into tangos. The same tangos which the youngest of
the performers had already flirted with. "Por ahí viene mi comare, con su vestío
de colores" (Here comes my kinswoman, in her coloured dress), sings Guadiana to
announce her entrance. And here she is, her hair tied back into a bun, swathed
in simplicity. The way she moves around the stage, withdraws, becomes absorbed
in herself, like a coral, polished and wild in equal measures. The finesse, the
mood, the technique... and perhaps too a certain homely feeling of an informal
patio gathering. And summoning all her forces, she gives her all in the soleá,
closing the performance with her 'bata de cola'. Is she a little lost? Anyone
might think so when she steps up the already furious pace even more, or when she
slams her feat with a deafening sound to the beat of the cajón... And then sits
side-on in her chair. Then suddenly diagonals, spirals, reaching, diving. Then
sits again. Smile, Merche, you won the crowd over.
And it was the same mark
that lifted Milagros Menjíbar to the top of the podium. Even though she changed
the order in the programme... so what? The stage overflowed with her presence,
she gave the definitive performance of a petenera, she became fire and swirls
of cloth, she was as robust as an oak, she allowed the songs to worship her, her
steps were impeccable... if she were a painting, it would be costumbrista. And
she made Juan Reina's and Manolo Sevilla's fists tremble. The frothy wave of cloth
from her dress melted time itself. Slowly, no need to hurry. "Bata de cola, tiene
la flamenca mía, bailando por alegrías, al ritmo que van las olas" (My Flamenco
woman has a 'bata de cola', dancing alegrías in time with the waves). She oozed
grace and charm, swirling, twirling over and over again, majestically... "¡Ole
las que saben!" (Ole: here's to those who know how!), shouted a woman from the
stalls. OK, granted, Milagros Menjíbar
shrugged aside the programme and started to pay tribute to the traditional Flamenco
'bata de cola' dress before time. And yes, the intervals... |
