ISABEL BAYÓN. ‘LA PUERTA ABIERTA’. JUEVES FLAMENCOS, SEVILLE

Curved baile

Silvia Calado. Seville, December 1st, 2005

‘La puerta abierta’. Isabel Bayón: baile and choreography. Jesús Torres: guitar. Juan José Amador: cante. Sergio Martínez: percussion. Flamenco Thursdays Series. Centro Cultural El Monte. Sala Joaquín Turina. Seville, December 1st, 2005. 9 p.m.

	Isabel Bayón (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Isabel Bayón premieres ‘La puerta abierta’. Following her daring raid in the theater with ‘La mujer y el pelele’, she withdraws once more with ‘Del alma’. The Sevillian bailaora's new show lays its stakes on intimacy. She dances as if nobody were watching her, going with the flow. She doesn't betray tradition, but nor does she become a victim of it. She dances with freedom, peering within, fluently. Sensual, flirtatious, personal, curved. And she never leaves the stage throughout the long hour of the performance. There's no other stage design than a collection of baile shoes scattered around the stage and an open door in the backdrop which offers the action a middle distance that the wardrobe turns into. There's no other accompaniment than that of Juan José Amador's cante, Jesús Torres' guitar, Sergio Martínez's percussions... and the cantes through martinetes recovered from historic voices.

This small-scale show has two decisive moments. One of them is that of the milonga, an ode to sensuality... with Gilda-style gloves and neckline. Isabel Bayón exalts her arm movement, her wavy outlining, swayed by the cantaor's sweet melodies. Her body knows how to dance, nearly without her feet speaking. The other one, along the same lines, is that of the pasodoble, which begins with shawl fluttering. She is sung for at the left of the stage by a standing Juan José Amador, an entirely versatile, personal cantaor at a moment worth taking advantage of to go to the recording studio. And she, halfway between his voice and the guitar, allows herself to be swayed by that rhythm of popular Spanish heritage so well upheld by Jorge Pardo. It might be the first time it's been danced flamenco-style. It's done so gracefully that even the exchange between cantaor and bailaora is delightful.

Fluency is the weapon at certain instants in the show. Such natural movements as air and water gush forth to the sound marked by a variation to Bach's piano as an introduction. It also appears in instrumental passages such as ‘Zapateao’ by Jesús Torres, a guitarist to bear in mind not just for baile. And in others, it's the feminine flamencura, plain and simple. That aspect bursts in with the alegrías marking the end. As pretty as a Marín doll, in a black sleeveless, open-back bata de cola, she stands firm in the middle of the stage. More rhythmic, more temperamental, very flirtatious. The funny thing about the piece is that it's cut short by the old martinete by Anica la Piriñaca, which succeeds in recalling the painful side of life. The alegrías return as if time had been interrupted. The effect is strange, but the aim of breaking the established structures is appreciated. The music is thought-out, is colored with references for those who listen. And contributing to that, of course, is the bailaora... especially funny in the shuffling steps of the escobilla. Back comes the martinete. Back comes dry, introverted baile. Just the clapping and percussion accompany. Restraint for an ending parallel to the start. And in line with the encore, a concentrated finale, which resorts to the sober Lebrija bulería. The ovation is heart-felt in the semicircle of the theater, jam-packed and with a noteworthy presence of Japanese enthusiasts. Isabel Bayón once again spells out female baile in capital letters.

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