CHARO CALA. ‘PARA LAS SEIS CUERDAS’.
SEVILLE'S 13th BIENAL DE FLAMENCO 2004

Daydreaming

Silvia Calado. Seville, September 16th, 2004

‘Para las seis cuerdas’ (‘For the Six Strings’). Charo Cala: dancing and artistic direction. Alfonso Zurro: stage direction. El Junco and Carlos Cardoso: dancing. Juan José Amador, Enrique Soto, Inmaculada Rivero: cante. Salvador Gutiérrez, Fernando María: guitar and music. Tete Peña, Roque: percussion. Amadeo: contrabass. David Moniz: violin. Mustelier: wind instruments. Central Theater. Seville, September 16th, 2004. 9 p.m. Seville's Bienal de Flamenco 2004.

	Charo Lara

The Central Theater, the venue for new proposals, finally opens a stage for the thirteenth edition of the Bienal. And it does so with an artist new to this thing of heading up the bill: Charo Cala. The Sevillian bailaora, who went from the dance corps of the company of Cristina Hoyos - who was there as a spectator - to devote herself entirely to teaching, wanted to take a step forward in her career and do a solo production to pay tribute to her father, guitarist José Cala ‘El Poeta’. And to tackle this project, she has seen fit to surround herself with top-notch collaborators such as playwright and stage director Alfonso Zurro, cantaores Juan José Amador and Enrique Soto, bailaor El Junco... ‘Para las seis cuerdas’ is a carefully-done show, fitting into which, perhaps with too much looseness, is the simple dancing of an artist inspired in her own biography.

It begins with a dream, a glance at the past and inside. Mist, faint light (once again a horror for the photographers covering this festival) and she, hunched up on the floor, with a red ribbon covering her eyes. The music, very close to that of ‘5mujeres5’ by Eva Yerbabuena. Martinete, violin, clapping. Dancing around the woman is a bailaor. And she finally joins in with such slight motion that she still does not reach the point of dancing. A bit of arms, a bit of hands, a stroll or two... and some stage resource or another covering up what her technique does not cover. Enrique Soto's cante does the same thing first, and then Juan José Amador's, afterwards, through seguiriyas. The flamenco dress with a train is not as such; it appears in vain.

The spotlights are lowered. Abstract metal structures occupy the open back room, as if constantly recalling the unreality. The ten musicians on stage - positioned diagonally on the right side - relax. A friendly attitude. We are at a rehearsal. They are memories of the theater. The episode entitled ‘work’ is conjured up with threshing cantes. El Junco and Juan Carlos Cardoso dance with the star; them more than her. Now the turns come to her mind. As props, a row of translucent suitcases is set up. Inside, a boat, a guitar, a black-and-white photograph... Cardoso does his solo through tientos tangos. Pliable, precise, vigorous dancing.

She now stages ‘the mestization’, the round-trip of an artist touring the world as a member of the flamenco troupes of old. Inmaculada Rivero furiously grasps the habanera. Charo Cala is on stage. The voice in off is heard once more: “When you're far away, do you remember us?”. And El Junco dances this longing through soleá, with that moderate, stylized dancing of his which never ends up breaking, which has brilliant moments like, this time, the dancing upon the wooden suitcase. He is the one, in fact, receiving the only unanimous olé of the night. The show reaches its end. With that voice from within alluding to advice and prohibitions, they move on to bulerías. Once again, the trio. Charo Cala is flanked by her two guest bailaores. And between them, bursting with energetic youth, she does what she can. The gloomy ambience returns. The door of light opens. “Don't daydream”. And Charo Cala disobeyed.

Charo Lara Company

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