Putting the foot down in the name of flamenco

Tensions between old and new, tradition and progress, are leading to new forms of expression in the quintessentially Spanish …

Tensions between old and new, tradition and progress, are leading to new forms of expression in the quintessentially Spanish art form, writes MICHAEL SEAVER

IT MIGHT have humble origins in the south of Spain, but flamenco is now a global cultural pursuit. While the haughty-faced dancer with twirling wrists, staccato heels and a cascading ruffled dress is quintessentially Spanish, there are almost as many flamenco schools in Japan as in Spain, as well as numerous university programmes throughout the United States.

With this popularity has come fragmentation, so these days the term “flamenco” (like “jazz”) refers to a range of styles rather than a single aesthetic. As with most traditional dance forms, there is a spectrum of practitioner that runs from the purists concerned with tradition to the so-called “avant-garde” performers who have moved away from that tradition and are openly embracing contemporary influences.

The first threat to the “purity” of flamenco occurred in the 19th century when dancers became public attractions in café cantantes and the dancing became sanitised for public consumption.

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Later, during its music-hall heyday on the stages of Europe and South America, short flamenco dances were wedged into variety shows featuring vaudeville acts and even Charlie Chaplin films.

Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca and composer Manuel de Falla attempted to re-purify the folk form from this bastardisation by bringing it back to Andalusian roots. In 1922, they set up El Concurso de Cante Jondo (The Contest of the Deep Song)in Granada, a competition of what they called "primitive Andalucian" flamenco, to reposition it as a high art.

Unlike the unknowledgeable music-hall crowds, who were considered unworthy of authentic performances, Lorca and Falla expected that the cosmopolitan audiences at the competition in Granada would view the pure form and appreciate its authenticity.

Commercial shows still prevail, but within today’s flamenco community there is further a tension between those preserving purity and those promoting innovation. The purists feel that flamenco’s proud spirit is being extinguished by new tricks introduced for the sake of novelty, while the nueva escuela feels that the spirit can be retained whatever the variation in aesthetic.

Dublin audiences can select their own preference during this year’s Dublin Flamenco Festival, now taking place at the Helix: it opened last Saturday with leading avant-garde dancer Rafaela Carrasco’s De un momento a otro and ends on Sunday with the more traditional Jerez Puro, La Tierra by María del Mar Moreno. Even the titles of the pieces reveal their credo, with Moreno’s references to the earth and purity and Carrasco’s more intellectual concerns with presence in the moment.

Carrasco is a former soloist in the Andalusian Dance Company in Seville, but she left for Madrid at the age of 23 to find her individual voice, free from the weighty expectation of tradition. As she said in an interview in 2004, “There are things I want to tell that I can’t with traditional flamenco, which limits me. I need to seek other ways to be able to complement it.” Now she is regarded as one of the leading avant garde dancers, along with the likes of Israel Galvan.

In De un momento a otro, she is dressed in red satin pants and silver jacket instead of the traditional ruffled dress and her demeanour is less presentational but more concerned with her dialogue with the musicians. They are physically part of the dance, leaving their chairs for a perambulating duet or, in the case of percussionist Luis Amador, taking centre stage for a stunning tambourine solo.

But the real magic comes in the lightening-quick rhythmic interactions, where Carrasco’s percussive feet are supplemented with body slaps and clicking fingers that fill the tiny gap in the music or when Antonio Campos’ soaring voice finds resonance in Carrasco’s slowly twisting body. At these moments, the notion of flamenco being neither fully spontaneous or fully choreographed rings most true.

As a dance form it is continually morphing. This hybridity lies in its roots which contain Moorish, Spanish, Jewish and Romani influences.

But at its heart has always been the expression of the suffering and happiness of human experience, an essence that artists like Carrasco retain, despite the diverse use of space and perspective or technical innovations.

Dublin Flamenco Festival continues until Sunday. More information at dublinflamencofestival.com