barcelona this weekend: the ciutatvella flamenco festival

in serbia this spring, at a patron saint day celebration in the cozy apartment of an engineer overlooking the danube, i asked a physicist why, centuries after migrating to europe, gypsies still seem to be on the fringes of social life. he gave me the best answer i've heard to date:

they just seem to have their own rhythm.

and if nothing else about gypsy life in europe makes any sense, this does. when it comes to flamenco, the gitano rhythm is complicated, changeable. seemingly random, but totally predictable to those versed. unless palmeros map it out for me physically, i, for the most part, find it very difficult to suss the rhythm out. this intrigues me. draws me to it, time and again.

although the south of spain is undoubtedly the place to go to experience "authentic" flamenco (i hear that in cities like palencia, normal people are dancing the sweetest sevillanas in bars and discos), barcelona certainly has its share of great flamenco, by way of festivals that bring the tradition's brightest stars north. the festival flamenco de ciutatvella is one of the region's best.

the concert...

i spent the better parts of the last few nights at the ciutatvella flamenco festival hosted by centro de cultura contemporanea de barcelona (CCCB). the festival featured 2 acts in the modernist yet intimate sala during the daylight hours, and shifted to a stage under the stars after nightfall.

that's where i was introduced to the cantadora pictured above, esperanza fernández. curvy, magnetic, and a consummate professional, she was the first singer i'd ever seen turn her mic towards the audience and send her naked voice out into the night. i realized a few things about flamenco.

1. good looks will help you minimally
2. sex appeal is a thing entirely apart
3. emotion is the engine
and
4. experience is king.

when it comes to dancing, this is especially true. it's what made the difference for example, between the young, nimble, but decidedly milk toast isabel bayón, and the sestegenarian couple from santiago de jerez, toni 'el pelao' and la uchi. and while bayón's technique and creativity are undeniable, something was missing from her performance. watching el pelao and la uchi, revealed the 'what'.

tony's face was straight of the 18th century, dressed in a bolero and fitted trousers, and sporting a thick cap of slicked-back black hair. la uchi's long blonde hair was snatched up on top of her head in a bun with flowers that changed colors with her dresses, which ranged from the traditional ruffly red, to a turquoise, beige, and MET costume ball worthy gown. they were a goya painting. i fought the urge to paint myself and jump inside.

outside of the sense of gravity it afforded them, their age was nothing but a number. their footwork, called zapatear in spanish, was as sharp and powerful as any young dancer's would be, if not more so. hand gestures elicited countless olé's, reaffirming the power in simplicity; the power in that single point of origin where the dance begins.

like when a singer walks away from her mic, and renders her song, unplugged. i think of how performers always say things like, i only need a stage, a platform, a soap box, a mic.... nas comes to mind. the true flamenco singer makes sure to establish this; he/she doesn't even need a that. i imagine that when your culture is historically defined by nomadism, many things are just extra.

in the end, even the performers i was less moved by, were worth seeing. flamenco is a genre i still have so much more to learn about: its history, its trajectory. the range of artists featured at festivals like ciutatvella provide useful points of comparison and room for perspective, unlike the one-dimensional, cookie cutter format of tourist flamenco shows. the sheer goodness of the good so far outweighed the... not so good. and between the wine, the good friends, and the beautiful music, it was a damn good weekend.

a recommendation

ciutatvella was my 3rd flamenco festival in spain in the last year. these elaborate moonlight serenades that happen all over the country, year round, to celebrate the art form, are normally amazing experiences, and pretty representative of the beauty and depth of the genre. always new artists to discover and veterans to rediscover. i'd venture to say that many festivals are worth even planning your trip to spain around, because they tend to do them right. pull out the stops. because spain needs flamenco. it (and the roma) are integral to national identity. without it there's virtually no musical tradition.

*photo of la esperanza by nick law