IX Bienal de Sevilla

The Biennial of Seville is probably the largest and most prestigious flamenco festival, which - the name says it all - is being held, every two years at the capital of Andalucia. The ninth edition of this festival took place between 9 and 29 September. In three weeks time 34 performances were given in four theaters, for an audience that, according to estimates, consisted for 50% of foreigners. This year they departed from the custom that in turn centralised singing, dancing or guitar per festival, although the main point was mostly dancing. Aficionao had a reporter in the field to give an impression of this great flamenco spectacle.

The first four days of the Biennial were dedicated to the 'Concurso de jóvenes intérpretes' a contest for young interpreters. There were three prizes to be handed out, respectively for  singing, dancing and guitar, and for each of those five artists competed. Of course an extensive selection must have taken place beforehand, but the only consistency I could discover in the group of 15 finalists, was the fact that they were all under thirty. Other than that age and stage experience were miles apart. How should a fourteen year old guitar talent like Rubén Diaz compete with the twenty two year old Niño Josele, who has already recorded a CD? And what can an incredibly nervous Ana Real (22) do to the vocal violence of de 27 year old Fernando Terremoto hijo, who did not only inherit  his fathers voice and looks, but also his reputation. The concurso had three just winners: Terremoto hijo (singing), Israel Galván (dancing) and Niño Josele (guitar). But the outcome of this uneven match was clear from the start. If to give young talent a chance was the goal of this concurso, the organisation overshot the mark. For the ultimate winners have already earned their credits in the flamenco world and can get by on their own resources. Some might remember Terremoto hijo at the atmospheric Bulerías de Jerez-festival at the Lindengracht last year. Israel Galván can be seen in the video Flamenco of Carlos Saura. The most obvious proof that these artists can make it without this encouragement prize, is the fact that they also performed in other, 'adult' shows of the Biennial. An honourable mention goes to Rafael Campallo, a 22 year old dancer from Seville, who just missed out on the prizes. He performed in four(!) different productions. Couldn't they award prizes to the recollection of choreographies?
 
 

Clannish
There were more of this kind of recidivists. Record holders are singers Juan José Amador (six performances) and El Extremeño (five performances), who are known as good dance companions for a reason. It shows how small and close the flamenco scene in (southern) Spain actually is, while in the margins it is also interesting to see how everybody is related to each other. Because Spaniards are clannish and gypsies add even some more to that. The fact that flamenco artists enjoy dragging their musical sons, daughters, nephews and nieces on stage, does not need any objections. Carlos Heredia, who's CD was recently discussed in the Aficionao, did not only have a niece that could sing well - certainly when she got over her nerves after a shy beginning - but also an adorable daughter of nine, who gave the finishing touch to a convincing piece of modern flamenco by rhythmically shaking a 'salt-cellar'.
The rest of the Heredia family, young and old, was hanging over the balustrades of the first balcony and added to the party atmosphere with agreeing jaleo. An other example of a successful family party was the rock solid combination of guitarist Pedro Bacán and his singing sister Ines. And then there's the group around the corpulent signer Juana la del Revuelo, who managed to create a neighbourhood party in the atmospheric patio of the Triana Hotel in the neighbourhood of the same name. The eldest singer had reached pensionable age a long time ago, while the youngest dancer had hardly shed her first teeth. As an enlargement of the party spirit, El Farruquito, the talented grandson of the during his life already legendary dancer El Farruco, was lifted onto the stage, and managed to let everyone forget all other dancers in just a few steps. And he actually had a younger brother as well, also with his first teeth, who was also following his grandfather's tracks.
Although sometimes the love for the family undermined healthy criticism. Not a bad word about the dance performance of the impressive Manuela Carrasco (with among others - yes - Israel Galván and Rafael Campallo), but if she rendered a service to her daughter Samara by putting her on stage?
Her daughter sang false passionately and in keeping with the lukewarm reaction of the public she snapped: "It was the first time!" before she hastily disappeared behind the scenes.
 

Merciless
Love makes blind, proved the old Parilla de Jerez, nestor of the well known gypsy family. The fact that son Juan played and daughter Ana danced, was not a problem. If flamenco talent is not hereditary, his descendants must have been nurtured with it. But his choice to let his much younger American wife La Tibu dance, was not well received by the rest of the clan from Jerez.
Singer La Macanita, dressed in a polkadot dress with a dangerously low cleavage, looked prudish the other way, while the American wrestled through her Cantiñas. When a rain shower disrupted this nightly open air performance, the second dance of La Tibu was erased merciless, and while uttering the presently very appropriate shout "Agua" the closing bulería was started, which was endlessly long in the way of Jerez. The patio of the Triana Hotel where this performance took place, was without a doubt the most atmospheric, but not the only one. Most performances took place in the Teatro Lope de Vega, a beautiful nineteenth century bonbon case with red velour and gold painted ornaments, traditionally the "home base" of the Biennial. It is a pity that the Biennial has grown too large in its sixteen year old history to restrict itself to this single theater, because it is the ideal location: large enough for a crowd of 800, but small enough to be intimate (it was remarkable that most jaleo came from the cheapest seats), atmospheric with its jocular interior, but - and that is most important - with excellent sound techniques. Not only singing and guitar were intensified excellent, but also the dancing was well audible everywhere in the hall.
 

Sickly green
All these qualities were missing from the second location, the brand new opera building, the Maestranza, a monster that has marred the riverbanks of the Guadalquivir since 1992. The enormous hall with lots of natural wood and sickly green upholstery breathes the atmosphere of a crematorium, and the ice cold drafts from the air conditioning causes shivers down the spines of the poor spectators. And if you'd expect a good sound from such a modern music theater, you'd be duped. The zapateados were already inaudible on the sixth row, while one could deduct from the desperate looks of the guitarists at the feet of the dancers, that even they were devoid of these sounds. The only person who's zapateados showed well, was the phenomenon Juan Ramirez, but his trademark is to deliver one taconeo after the other on a square meter. The only thing that can be said to the advantage of the Maestranza is that this was the only theater where the performances started in time. With the unpleasant result that the unwary visitor, who'd adjusted to the "Spanish quarter of an hour" of Teatro Lope de Vega ended up in front of closed doors. You'd be better of in the contemporary Teatro Central, that in spite of its name was miles away from the center of town at the deserted area of the Expo '92. A strongly inclined hall made this theater exceptionally suitable for dance performances, because the view was well from all seats. And the sound was in every respect acceptable. Only the distance ... taxi drivers thrived.

Family parties
As said, the old patio of the Triana Hotel, surrounded by a three story white building with nostalgic little balconies, had the most atmosphere. It was an ordeal for the poor spectators, because the person that had crammed the patio with folding chairs, hadn't stopped to think that the average person is not capable of placing their legs behind their heads. And of course the view from the back rows was not great. But this inconvenience was amply made good by the ambiance, underneath the starry skies of nocturnal Triana. Justly the organisation had scheduled performances here with a folksy character than the real theater productions, like Rancapino y su gente from Cadíz, the Parilla-clan from Jerez, and such delegations from Utrera and Triana itself. This is how real juergas arose, which more resembled out of control family parties, and which generally started later than the announced time of midnight, but also rarely ended before three 'o clock.

It is impossible to describe 34 performances in four locations in one article. I will suffice in naming some of the highest and some of the lowest point, with of course the reservation that every opinion is personal and that the writer of this article after having seen 'only' twelve performances hardly has a say in the matter. It was a foregone conclusion that the first night of the dance production 'Gitano' of Antonio Canales would be one of the climaxes of the festival. After the world wide success of his previous production 'Torero' the whole of Seville expected a new master piece from her lost son. 'Gitano', as Canales said at a press conference, tells the story of the arrival of the gypsies in Spain and falls apart in three pieces; the tradition, which takes us to the ancient gypsy camp, the modern time, which shows us the young displaced gypsies in the big city and finally a large party, a wedding feast, which shows us the gypsy in the theater.
Especially in the second part Canales does not shy away from experimentation, and he uses a sound track of city sounds and - surprisingly - Arabic music. Honestly, the story line is thin, but it does not make the show less gripping. Thirteen dancers and ten musicians peopled the stage and mostly soloist Sara Baras and half a dozen young bailaores (clearly followers of grand master Canales) made a big impression. The local newspapers complained that Canales is out of practice where it concerns dancing, but that judgment is too harsh. Granted, the magic that Canales sometimes managed to summon as a soloist, was omitted, but on the other hand, as a choreographer and inspirer he has delivered a magnificent piece of work, that induced the audience to a booming applause. Unfortunately the Netherlands is still missing from the play list of 'Gitano', but who knows...
 

Improbable
Another dance production that drew some crowded halls, was from the Compañía Andaluza de Danza, a 2.5 years young dance company that attended the Biennial for the first time. They danced to choreographies of Manolo Marín, a mixture of flamenco and classical Spanish dance, in which the twelve young dancers showed that they can turn their hand to both. However, straightforward impressive was "El perro andaluz, Bulerías" of María Pagés, danced to an improbable music combination of  Astor Piazzola, Tom Waits and Camarón. That flamenco and modern dance are difficult to combine appears from the (in my opinion) failure of Joaquín Cortés, but María Pagés succeeded to create something new with the idiom  of both. Flamenco torn loose from its orthodox liturgy, modern dance movements coolly succeeded by solid zapateados, on music that seemingly has nothing to do with flamenco, and still convincing from beginning till end, not in the least because of the surprising enthusiasm of the dancers (among which - yes - Rafael Campallo). So far the group does not have any plans to go abroad, but it would be marvelous if such a thing would appear in a Dutch theater.
 

Magic
Of course there was plenty of attention for the more traditional forms of flamenco next to these modern expressions. Breathless I've been listening to El Pele, who put the Lope de Vega theater under his spell with a Siguiriya, so poignant, that he made you descent to the depths of your own sorrow. At the same performance Eva la Yerbabuena, who'd also been in the Netherlands several times, danced; a beautiful dancer that knows how to express the emotion of the singing with her whole body. Two great persons of the flamenco puro, who with an almost sober performance, managed to rouse the magical force known as duende. And - unfortunately, your reporter was not there - the performance with percussionist Manuel Solér, who, accompanied by three dancers (Javier Barón, and of course Israel Galván and Rafael Campallo) focused on the compás, was master class as well.
After so much jubilation, can we please spare a second for the low points?
Because in such a great festival not everything can be brilliant. The greatest low point, in my opinion, was Manolo Sanlucar. This guitar grand master would present his new piece "Música para ocho monumentos", which is - the name says it already - the momumental successor of the successful "Tauromaquía", for guitar and orchestra. The long awaited premier was cancelled at the last moment, because the piece is not ready according to Sanlucar. Is he afraid that he can't surpass his last master piece? We shall have to wait until the maestro is up for it.

Bloopers
Second hand I received the report from Chiquetete, who for unknown reasons left flamenco for what it was and sang campfire songs like a hippie of his head, a poor display of an artist who's reputation would require more. But like this many have their bloopers. Like the tragic case of dancer El Mimbre, who wanted to add some drama to his performance. After having made some unclear feints on stage in a showy bright red suit, the singer shouted at him: "What are you looking for, Manuel, what are you looking for?" After which the dancer answered with much pathos: "I'm looking for .... my light!"
A booming laughter from somewhere in the hall torpedoed this peculiar scene and it seemed that El Mimbre did not manage to find his light afterwards.
Oh, it's never difficult to comment and especially the local papers had a habit of declaring everything that inclined, even slightly, to modern, a Joaquín Cortés imitation, but it's a fact that the Biennial offers a unique opportunity to view a select choice of flamenco in a short time. No wonder aficionados had gathered from all over the world, with a strikingly large representation of Japanese. But also the artists came to admire each others performances, so it became a sport to count the celebrities in the audience.
It's a pleasure anyway to hear and see flamenco in the place where it belongs, where the whole audience participates in what happens on stage and lets it be known with a lot of jaleo.
The IX Bienal de Flamenco had gotten a motto, which was a saying of Igor Stravinsky: El Flamenco, un arte de composición" (Flamenco, an art of composition). Seeing the diversity of the performances, which - in the wide range of traditional and modern forms - did not leave any aspect untouched, the pronouncement of Antonio Canales during the press conference for the opening night of "Gitano" could also have been the motto: Flamenco is not new, nor old, it's always flamenco". Who knows one for the Biennial of 1998?

Marlies Jansen
(English translation Carmen Morilla, 03 May, 1999)

The photos with this article were placed at our disposal by Manuel Conradi
of Olimpia Press, the press agency of the IX Biennial.