MARÍA PAGÉS. ‘CANCIONES ANTES DE UNA GUERRA’
SEVILLE'S 13th BIENAL DE FLAMENCO 2004

Bazaar treasures

Silvia Calado. Seville, September 28th, 2004
Photos: Daniel Muñoz

‘Canciones antes de una guerra’ (‘Songs Before a War’). María Pagés: idea, concept, script, choreography and solo dancing. María Morales, Mar Jurado, Sonia Fernández, Cristina Tomé, Guadalupe Torres, José Barrios (alegrías choreography), Emilio Herrera, Abel Harana, Alberto Ruiz, Joaquín Mulero. Ana Ramón, Ismael de la Rosa, Ismael de la Rosa ‘Bolita’: cante. José Carrillo ‘Fity’, Rubén Lebaniegos, Isaac Muñoz: guitars. Chema Uriarte, Francisco Alcaide: percussion. Special collaboration by Tsidii le Loka and Paco del Pozo. Director: José María Sánchez. Maestranza Theater. Seville, September 28th 2004. 9 p.m. Seville's 13th Bienal de Flamenco 2004.

The bazaar of ideas still had plenty of goods in the back room. And not exactly pottery. From that creative laboratory which is the María Pagés Company springs another experiment worthy of patenting. The essence hardly remains from the outline it presented a few months ago in Madrid at the theater where the company resides. It has brought other songs to Seville's Maestranza Theater and another more serious, richer presentation; allowing itself the luxury of having the special collaboration on stage of South African singer Tsidii le Loka, who it had already worked with in ‘Riverdance’. Impeccable in choreography. Impeccable in wardrobe. Impeccable in rhythm. Impeccable in emotion. ‘Canciones antes de una guerra’ is pure creation at the service of music (understanding dancing as not just esthetics, but as sound in motion), a perfect balance between tradition and advancement, with the flamenco spirit skin-deep.

With the curtain still lowered and the theater's lights on, the old transistor radio lets the first of the songs be heard. ‘Boquerones del alma’, performed by Angelillo. Black. Silence. Coming onto the empty stage are bailaores and bailaoras in evening dress who stroll around, who finish dressing, who do a bit of heel-tapping from time to time. Clapping, feet... and box drums, box drums which at the same time are small tablaos which are struck upon with hands and heels. María Pagés' bailaores make music and they mark their difference with that. The stage becomes a nightclub. ‘Blues Dingue’ by Henri Salvador is heard. Guys and gals challenge each other, cheer each other on, play... dancing. The choreographic work shows brilliance. And also the musical. Feet arrangements to the music by the French jazz player. Another song. Now a harbor. ‘Tatuaje’ in the voice of Concha Piquer. María Pagés finally comes out dressed in red, with bangs and precious stones, '20s-style. With a tango attitude, she caresses the stage, curvaceous, tangled up in her arms. Behind her back, the dancers form pairs. And she dances from within, moving each note, each melodic turn. A thousand and one details. Ultrasensitivity.

One more song from this special compilation. Cantaora Ana Ramón plays the role of singer, lined up diagonally with the sonanta, from one end of the stage to the other, to sing for the instrument ‘Guitarra dímelo tú’ ('Guitar, You Tell Me') by Atahualpa Yupanqui, with flamenco arrangements. The five bailaores understand this song as a farruca, which they dance paying tribute to tradition and situating the innovation in the group's ‘organization’. Solo. Twofold. Threefold. The song is uttered with feeling. Hardly catching one's breath, the wrinkled curtain in the background opens on the left side, framing half of the group. The other half shows the audience its profile, diagonally on the opposite side. María Pagés, donning one of those long tight dresses that mark her figure, comes in to dance soleá through bulerías. She occupies the space between both groups and communicates with both, first light, aerial; then festive, like an old woman in her patio. Close, devoted, very flamenco. The applause is huge. The group stays on dancing through alegrías, the cante with lyrics by Antonio Machado. Many choreographies within one choreography. Variety. Dynamism. Party.

“Intermission”. And now comes the touch of humor never lacking from María Pagés, with the ad for ColaCao - now part of popular Spanish culture - flamenco-style. The crowd accompanies on clapping. The detergent spot is to the rhythm of the twist. The bailaores converse smiling like in a musical. The show continues. Play with lights. Seguiriyas. Musical economy. The motions sound. The South African singer comes into action. A feminine voice for five women, each one with her dance, a common feeling. It is time to tremble. María Pagés comes out to dance ‘Nana de la cebolla’ ('Onion Lullaby'), the poem by Miguel Hernández in the version by Spanish singer-songwriter Joan Manuel Serrat. Dancing with soul. Winged dance. On the skin's other side. The flamenco guitar hooks up to catch her. Tears.

Without changing the tone, but making it warmer, more maternal, Tsidii le Loka comes out to sing ‘Duerme negrito’ ('Sleep, Little Black Boy'), also by Yupanqui. Barefoot, attired in a wide red traditional dress, she reaches the stage entrance, of which she is a natural inhabitant. She communicates, shakes, involves. Musicians and bailaores are on the floor seated around her. And surprise, coming out to share the song with her, to be the 'little black boy', is Ismael de la Rosa Jr., a compressed cantaor (not a funny boy) who dominates the scenario like a professional. Complicity by the crowd. The guitarists do not move from the floor. Paco del Pozo comes out to the front of the stage to the right, to sing under zenithal light ‘Soñar’ ('Dreaming') with a poem by Antonio Machado, dedicated by María Pagés to her son Pancho “who is beginning to go away from the wonderful world of childhood”. The veil reveals the dream in the background. The horses are bailaores that ride like in ‘Bodas de sangre’ by Antonio Gades. The bailaoras make their shawls fly... “And dream”. A turning point. African music. Percussions which cut off the dancing. Tsidii sings and dances, invokes. The flamenco dancing is the counterpoint. Jazz's turn. ‘When the Saints Go Marchin’ in’ by Louis Armstrong. Joking, partying, spreeing. A fresh style, visual in the group's relating. A special note: the final touch with castanets by the women arranging the song. The way that this bailaora and choreographer has of integrating traditional elements in her work in advancement is masterful. Everyone withdraws dancing in silence. The climax of the show is ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon, sung by the South African guest and danced by María Pagés. Touching. The group turns it into a bright baile through tangos, as if to make it easier to imagine that better world... which is lit up in the background. The planet's inhabitants gathered there applauded the show enthusiastically, while the company acknowledged it to the beat of ‘La vaca lechera’.

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