BEHIND THE SCENES WITH... COMPAÑÍA MARÍA PAGÉS

Light-hearted perseverance

Silvia Calado Olivo. Madrid, May 2002

Compañía María Pagés (Photos: Daniel Muñoz)

The María Pagés dance troupe is in an unruly state. While they take a coffee and warm up for rehearsal, one of them goes and starts dancing sevillanas. And without a hint of irony, they all join in, continuing to pass round the photos of their show in Israel as they do so. And the chorus is a treat: "Que con la Tirana, que volando voy, que buscando a El Perro..." (Running around with the Tirana, looking for her dog!) Who cares if it's grey and showery outside? Enter María. Manolo Marín too. She pulls the group together. He heads for the dressing room. The scene fades out... and suddenly there they all are on stage. Some girls, to paraphrase Martirio, "in shell suit and heels - dressy but casual". Some guys the same but in boots. Some girls in tight skirts, others in rehearsal skirts. Most of the guys wearing their company T-shirts. A wide range of rehearsal outfits on display here.

And there she awaits them, immortalised in the oil painting by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes, 'La Tirana', newly converted in the centrepiece of one of the shows in the company's repertoire. The silent star's authority has little effect on the mob. Just check the guitarist playing slumped in a corner, a bailaora sat on the floor, the laughter, the fooling around... Un, dos, tres... ¡arriba! As if she'd just stepped out of the painting but dressed for the gym, María manages to inject some order into the proceedings and the rehearsal gets under way. The aim of the session, after dozens of shows, is to fine-tune the movements of the group... so we're working on synchronisation. She directs the troupe, marks compás, indicates spaces, direction, pace... the same María who will bring the canvas to life in a couple of hours, María, famous for her endless swirling arms.

Compañía María Pagés (Photo: Daniel Muñoz)

Once it's all under control the group splinters, and in subgroups or individually each goes about refining their movements, correcting their stances... Ángel Muñoz, the principal bailaor, leaves with the sound technician; Manolo Marín, meditates with the coffee grounds on his wisdom as a dancer; another younger dancer practises his solos in a corner of the stage; María, in an intensive session with four students: two marking time for the others, this one helping that one as the performance draws near... And they shout: "¡Ticky tacka ti ti ta!". Again. And again. Phew! Sweat rolls off of the dressed-for-the-gym Tirana. "I know you don't feel like it but... you have to persevere".

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