Everything
I know about Flamenco, and that is precious little, I learned from watching Jose
Greco on television many, many years ago. With the rare exception of a
flamenco-based Carmen,
perhaps, my education was rudimentary, to say the very least. But that was
before I met a woman and her remarkable company of dancers and musicians at Jacob's
Pillow: Eva Yerbabuena and her Ballet Flamenco powered their way onto the Ted Shawn Theatre stage last night and remained there for a brief
run. If you ever get the opportunity, yourselves a serious service and make the
effort to see them.
The
evening, 90 intermissionless minutes in length, comprises gorgeous guitar and
percussion, throaty folk singers who sound as old as the history that informs
their music (and part of the evening's joy is to see how young they are), and
four dancers of exceptional physical strength. Of these four, Ms. Yerbabuena is
one and she is also the focal point of the evening.
My
early television memories of Greco's company conjure women in flashy satin and
taffeta, ruffles and mantillas adorning heads and toes. The men wore corseted
shirts, vests and jackets, flared their nostrils a lot and pounded the floor in
their distinctive boots. A lot of castanet action, too. Whether or not this
memory is accurate, I can only guess. But what I can say without any
hesitation, is that time has been very kind, and Yerbabuena very wise in
drawing us into her world and her own powerful memories -- the images are
always human, never over-decorated or permitted to approach parody or
stereotype. If it is fair to say that we can too easily make wrong assumptions
about others' cultures, then it is both fair and required to say that cultural
bodies like Jacob's Pillow serve an essential educational function by bringing
disparate worlds together. In the process, we celebrate the wonder of all we
never knew we hungered for.
As
for the evening itself, the rhythms of hands clapping, fingers snapping,
percussive drumbeats swelling and feet a-flying generated tumultuous responses
over and over again. Yerbabuena has a keen eye for staging a story and, even
more, a shrewd knowledge of avoiding the obvious. On more than one occasion, a
solo or trio moved inexorably to a fiery climax and stopped mid-air with a slow
movement of an arm or an abbreviated head toss, thus reversing the action of
the dance and recapturing the energy of the audience.
Eager
to show herself off in this Pillow premiere performance, Ms. Y is clearly
generous beyond her own ego. The corps members -- Luis Miguel Gonzalez, Eduardo Guerrero and Mercedes de Cordoba -- work wonderfully well together and, by the
evening's final curtain, have had many opportunities to demonstrate their
considerable individual talents. In the process, we have come to understand
that Flamenco is about passion and deeply human interaction. And we have also
come to learn that, as in other art forms, change never ceases and contemporary
thought informs historical legacy.
Any
discussion of the evening, entitled EVA, must include a reference to the remarkable scene
in which Ms. Yerbabuena and her white dress engage in a pas de deux, for it is
nothing less than a paired moment. Going well beyond mere technical facility --
and the mastery of dancer over costume should be its own reward -- she
mesmerizes us and draws us into a passionately hypnotic spell. She teases and
provokes and flourishes and flirts and, finally, enchants. Arrogance is
transformed into vulnerability and, in the process, we are drawn to her spirit.
It is
moments like this, and the evening is a series of such moments, that are
capable of driving an audience to a frenzy.