SEVILLE’S 2006 BIENAL DE FLAMENCO. MERCEDES RUIZ, ‘JUNCÁ’

Maturing

Silvia Calado. Seville, September 24th, 2006
Translation: Joseph Kopec

‘Juncá’. Mercedes Ruiz: baile, artistic director, choreography. Santiago Lara: music, guitar. El Choro, El Nano: baile. Jesús Méndez, El Londro, David Palomar: cante. Javier Ibáñez: second guitar. Jesús Lavilla: piano. Perico Navarro: percussion. Lighting design: Francis Mannaert. Seville’s 14th Bienal de Flamenco 2006. Teatro Alameda. Seville, September 24th and 25th, 2006. 9 p.m.

	Mercedes Ruiz (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

The glorious ‘alianda’ of La Paquera de Jerez frames ‘Juncá’. That’s how it begins and that’s how it ends. And the thing is that the new show by Mercedes Ruiz is, in intentions, a variation on flamenco native to a very specific territory on the map of this artform: not just Jerez, but the neighborhood of San Miguel. That’s where the bailaora was born, breathing the jar of essences opened by great jondo artists. And with this excuse, she has shaped up a standard, portable, effective show, but lacking direction and stage concept, even technically disoriented, and which contributes little more than her splendid solo baile for the time being.

Following the quejío, the presentation in a triangle. The bailaora and two guest bailaores - El Choro and El Nano – perform a vehement choreography por bulerías with which they manage to pump spectators up with adrenaline. A pause for cante, which Jesús Méndez starts off by alluding to his aunt, which is continued by the also Jerez-born Londro and is closed by Cádiz-born David Palomar with lyrics recalling the cante family tree of the land in question. The bailaores suddenly reappear. All power, but no control. By then the composing work by Santiago Lara can be made out, though the rhythm takes priority.

Mercedes Ruiz comes back out on stage dressed in green velvet. Silence and percussion. Compás from the forge. Just markings, just gestures, just poses. And those subtle references to Carmen Amaya with crossed finger-snapping before her face. Jesús Méndez comes in with the ‘trintrin’ of the anvil. Cante with substance. And she dances with her back to him, growing vertically. Then in the middle of the cante triangle, she bases her baile on the compás, on selected doses of footwork, on concentrated strength, demonstrating that she is one of the outstanding bailaoras of her generation. She brims over with flamencura, intensity, something physical. And upon displaying her virtuosity, she can’t help but celebrate her achievements with smiles, betraying the piece’s drama. In attitude and for an instant, she goes por bulerías. But she returns to the pathos when she confronts Jesús Méndez, face to face and in light and shade. Chilling. Two prolonged transition numbers: the sung malagueña evoking Manuel Torre and Antonio Chacón; and the bulería por soleá which sets forth each bailaor alone.

The star finally returns to calm the scene with a baile which, compared to that of her colleagues, is brimming over with stillness and taste. Dressed in a red bata de cola, she tinges with motion the jazzed-up notes of the piano and the sweet cante of David Palomar, martyrized throughout the concert by problems with the mike. Slow-motion arms, exquisite hands. Free dance more to the reminiscence of music than to the music itself. She wanted to remember Lola Flores that way. “Soleá, mi soleá”. The lyrics of the zambra announces the soloist’s following number. The dress is now black, reinforcing the piece’s initial tone. The lights go completely wild. The baile is set up with and for guitar. Santiago Lara’s role is more than praiseworthy in composing and performance, upon carrying all the musical weight of the show. Dry, serious, strolling baile... which suddenly breaks towards earth. At top speed, at top strength, with nerve, with guts. Pause for the predicted applause and back to the baile, all the way to the grand finale – many minutes later -, por bulerías, those fun, popular ones which the ten members of this premiering band took part in. The audience fervently applauded the bailaora who was discovered a few years ago at this very festival as winner of the Young Performers Contest. But she is no longer an up-and-coming bailaora and the road to maturity has intensified.

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