MARÍA PAGÉS. 'CANCIONES ANTES DE UNA GUERRA'

Reflection and play

Silvia Calado. Madrid, April 30th, 2004
Photos: Daniel Muñoz
Translation: Joseph Kopec

'Canciones antes de una guerra' ('Songs Before a War'). María Pagés Company. Bailaores: María Pagés, María Morales, Sonia Fernández, Mar Jurado, Leticia Calatayud, Emilio Herrera, Abel Harana, Alberto Ruiz. Musicians: Ana Ramón, cante; José A. Carrillo and Luis Miguel Manzano, guitar; Francisco Alcaide, percussion. Bulevar Theater. Torrelodones (Madrid, Spain), April 30th, 2004.

María Pagés is brimming with creativity. The Sevillian bailaora and choreographer went into the 'Bazar de las ideas' ('Bazaar of Ideas') a few months ago and came out with a string of old songs that inspired her to stir up and move around. And put together, linked, danced, and fit onto a stage, they cry peace, they cry play, they cry justice, they cry music and also silence. 'Canciones antes de una guerra' is a danced reflection which moves between divertissement and vindication, showing the two sides of flamenco - inside and outside - and many other colors of the musical spectrum.

Before the curtain had been drawn, María Pagés, dressed in a kimono, came out of her home to greet the crowd and tell them a few things. She explained how 'Canciones antes de una guerra' came about, the show she was going to present an advance premiere of at this theater where the company resides, before flying to Japan. And it so happened that "the choreographies have a life of their own and suggest other ideas". She read Alicia Alonso's press release on the occasion of International Dance Day... to provide food for thought. "Dance, as the language of the human body in silence, is harmony, is balance, is peace. Dance unites us, makes us more human". And she wished to refer those words to the show that was being presented, "to this choreographic experiment".

They begin playing... with the beat, with the rhythm. The music is what the bailaores make on box drums that serve as 'mini tablaos' or stages, in the frame of the stage opening. Knuckles and feet strike, feet against the floor, one palm against the other. Now the music sounds, flirtation by Frenchman Henri Salvador with blues, a mocking song with a nightclub flavor. The guys and gals - all dressed in street clothes - challenge each other, chase each other, slight each other, like in a peculiar 'West Side Story'. The choreography has the 'Pagés' trademark, with a funny, lively, visual result.

The tone changes. María Pagés appears seated in a central gap in the versatile backdrop, withdrawn, about to be Venus emerging from the shell. She dances solo 'Nanas de la cebolla' by Miguel Hernández, which singer-songwriter Joan Manuel Serrat recorded in a tribute album to the poet in 1972, with music by Alberto Cortez. Divine movement, the endless arms wrap and unwrap; essential, internal dance. Tears well up.

The numbers are short but have substance. They now give it a go with a female trio combination. The guitar sounds and each one does her own thing, asymmetry of three regards that will end up converging with a farruca outline. The baile has nuances, taking charge of the control of the rhythm and the sound intensity. The baile makes itself heard. And here comes... a commercial! María Pagés, who is one of the few people who show the comical side of flamenco, has taken it into her head to choreograph the Cola-Cao jingle. And she presents it danced by six: the men, with a bow-tie, like singers from the '50s; the women, in black dresses with white polka dots. Of course, in black and white. Very fun. What a funny idea... and what a sense of taste. When the music halts, the bailaores offer different entertainment based on rhythm, silence and lights.

The backdrop now opens up on the left side, providing shelter to the live cante and toque. María is solo through soleá. The spiral of her winding body. The orange light is so faint that it dulls. I want to see you. And she shines light on herself through bulerías, but through bulerías with that good old-fashioned flavor. Now she takes up the whole stage, now she hardly moves, minimizing the feeling. There's also toying with the music, with the rhythmic gradations, there's also laughter with her colleagues. The festive tone turns sweeter, perhaps more sensual, with another song choreographed for three women... in shawls. 'La flor de la canela' ('Cinnamon Flower'), with lyrics by Chabuca Granda, tells the Lima native a story, which María Pagés and two other bailaoras take care of coloring with Manila shawls. The fringes trace colorful brushstrokes, like an abstract painting that is created and 'uncreated' as it goes along.

Following another commercial break, this time for washing detergent, silence is again brought about. They are movements following a kind of interior music, so that arms, hands, heads may be heard... Earthen vat, clapping and cante. The slow bulería or round-trip airs, what does it matter? Everyone on stage. Combinations of six, dynamism, asymmetries. The end is near and María returns to the shell. John Lennon's 'Imagine' sounds, ordered specifically for the occasion, with a heartrending woman's voice, flamenco guitar and earthen vat. María spreads out her wings and flies all over the globe serving as a background. An emotional crescendo overcomes the theater, dance of tension and intention. "I hope some day you'll join us and the world will live as one".

María Pagés Company

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