The end draws near...

Two weeks of almost non-stop flamenco. Lessons. Practice. Shows. Shopping. Shoes. (Did I mention the shoes?)

Tonight we watch our last show (Eva la Yerbabuena... I have great hopes it'll be a good one), then set our alarms for really friggin' early in the morning, and hope to god the cab our landlord has arranged for us actually picks us up at 7 in the morning. Then, the Great Airport Saga will play out again. The running. The waiting. The chasing of luggage. Fun times. (Not)


Part of me is happy to go home. Part of me isn't ready to leave. And all of me is NOT ready for the vacation to be over. Oh well. I will still have an extra couple of days to recover. (HA! The way we've been going non-stop, recovery might take more like a couple of weeks!)

The blog's not going dark yet. I'll find an excuse to keep it up. After all, this is the year Alma de España celebrates 20 years of flamenco in Victoria. Visit www.recuerdos.ca to learn more.

There's cheese. And then there's CHEESE.

Okay. Flamenco is anything but demure. And, here, in The Land Of, they definitely have some feria dresses that are so over the top for North American eyes, one might be tempted to call them borderline cheesy. Or without the borderline, in some cases.

But last night's show... Now that's CHEESE. Like that. Italics and capitals. It was the kind of "flamenco" you'd probably see at a Vegas show, prompting well-meaning North American talk of "flamingo dancing." I'm not saying the quality of the dancing was terrible. I'm sure those folks have spent hours and hours working on their... dancing (I wouldn't call it "art." Not the way it was presented).

Carolyn actually didn't mind one of the guys' dancing. I, on the other hand, did not like a single bit of the whole show. Well, maybe the colour of the mantones was alright. But other than that. I was mostly bored, and when I wasn't, it was because I was trying to keep from laughing because of the smell of well-aged Gruyere wafting to my seat.

I wish I could have snapped a contraband photo of the last outfit those poor dancers had to wear... The tiered skirts with each tier in a different bright colour were fine--showy and loud and flamencoey. But then. The poor girls were wearing little tight vests open just above the waist showing (no joke) the dancers' black bras. Then, white, fluffy mock sleeves protruding from the "vests."

Oh, I neglected to say this company is run by two men... Big shock, huh?

Oh yah...

It's been sunny again.

:-)

The best show so far!

We've seen a lot of very strange (some might say, very original) shows over the past couple of weeks, ranging from the traditional flamenco cuadro (i.e., not strange at all), to some multimedia, conceptual-fusion-modern-artsy-shock-valuey concoctions that seemed to have no other purpose than to serve as conversation starters over beer and tapas.

Overall, even the weirdest of them all has had at least one redeeming quality, at least one little element that said, "yes, this is flamenco and this is why this show made the cut for this festival."

But tonight's show was... Wow. Tonight's show was modern and cheeky and playful and, still, it was traditional and elegant and classy. It was the most tangible proof that you don't need to do anything weird or completely off the cuff to modernize something traditional. And you don't need to modernize for the sake of modernizing.

Jerez-born Mercedes Ruiz is my idol. I got to see her perform when I was here last, four years ago, and it was a fabulous show. Very traditional, though. Her show tonight was also very traditional, but it had touches, elements of modernity that complemented it, enriched it, without being jarring at all. They were just there, and you didn't even notice them after a while.

Anyway, should head off to bed now. I still have classes tomorrow and the day after (and, yay, the choreography's taking shape!). Anyone curious about flamenco and/or about the Festival de Jerez should check out www.flamenco-world.com for reviews and photos and clips.

Really, I'm NOT a shoe person. Really.

Those who know me, know it's true: I don't usually go out of my way to get cute shoes. For the most part, I wear simple, comfy shoes, even (or especially?) for work. Seriously, I own two pairs of heels. Well, three, if you count my chunky-heeled boots.

But when it comes to flamenco shoes... Well, it would appear all bets are off. Sadly, flamenco shoes are considerably more expensive than [some] regular shoes. And, happily, they're a lot more more useful to me, more comfortable and bring a greater amount of joy and hours of wear than a regular cutesy pair of heels will never bring [to me].

Three pairs. I've bought three pairs of flamenco shoes. I didn't need three. I needed one. One basic, goes-with-everything, black pair. Well, I got that alright. Then there were the dark blue suede with the hourglass heel and the double straps (see picture below). And the secret longing for a pair with crossed straps. Well, the longing has been satisfied. I am now the proud owner of a pair of burgundy leather cross-strap, extra high heel flamenco shoes (regular heel = 5 cm; extra high = 7 cm). They're so comfy (seriously)! Because of the higher heel, I was a bit shocked at how comfortable they were when I tried them on. Anyway, they're lovely, they're mine and they're my first ever non-suede flamenco shoes. (I'd post a picture, but my camera battery is charging).

I'm shopped out now. (But never flamencoed-out! Or at least, not yet). I might still get myself some funky material to make a new dress, but other than that, I'm cut off. Otherwise, my credit card is going to self-destruct.

Gathering two of each animal species

Who made the brilliant assertion that "the rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain"? 'Cause, unless Jerez de la Frontera is on a plain, that's a whole lot of bullpoop (sorry, Mom). I'm not an expert on Spanish topography, but I do think plains are flat, and the stone-paved streets of Jerez are a bit too slopey to be considered "flat."

Ramble ramble ramble... Yes, it's raining again. Hard. And I mean West Coast-hard. Worse, because there's no grass around here to absorb the water, so those lovely, quaint, stone-paved streets become veritable rivers (waterfalls in parts). But that's ok. It's still mild, it's still picturesque, it's still full of flamenco. And I'm still on vacation. So, who needs dry feet?

A happy knee, on the other hand...

Another good one!

Okay, the show on Saturday night was pretty good. Isabel Bayón is, in my opinion, a very elegant bailaora and her show seemed to have just the right balance of traditional flamenco and modern artistic touches.

In sharp contrast, the show last night was just plain weird. The only good thing about it--mind you, it was a very good thing!--was Joaquín Grilo's guest appearance... Man, can that guy dance! As far as I'm concerned, and Carolyn emphatically agrees, he stole the show. (Plus, bonus points for sexiness--Carolyn also emphatically agrees)

It's just such a rare, fantastic treat to see such good talented male flamenco dancers! It's a pity you hardly ever get to see that in Canada.

Anyways, on to tonight's show, which turned out to be my second favourite so far (the first was La Farruca, the second, Isabel Bayón)...

To think I hadn't even heard of the dancer, Olga Pericet. She's a tiny bit of a thing, clearly classically trained, but can she ever flamenco! It's not that the dancing in Saturday's show, for example, was not technically good... It's just... it didn't do anything for me. In the meantime, tonight's show just touched me, made me feel something inside. And that's what I love about flamenco... The way it can move me, stir something within... I suppose it's really the same with all types of art... But for some reason, flamenco somehow makes this more tangible.

Looking forward to tomorrow's show. Manuela Carrasco. One of my absolute favourite bailaoras. Can't wait! (I've been counting the days since I saw she was in the festival's program.)

The Return of the Evil Knee of Annoyance

So, it would appear that my right knee and its stupid sprained ligament have made a comeback at a most inopportune (yet unsurprising) moment. Not a huge deal or anything... I can walk fine, but I feel the stairs and I definitely feel it when dancing. Very annoying. I wonder what did it? The constant walking on stone-paved streets? The abuse of daily flamenco classes and the related practice time? Probably a mix of both.

In any case, I'm being mindful of it and taking it easy in class. The walking, I can do nothing about.

Sunday afternoons in Jerez

Ah, the charm of the European small(ish) town... For a Victoria-sized city with such a lively night life, Jerez is pretty much a dead zone on Sunday afternoons. Almost all shops are closed -- even the larger, chain grocery stores (or most of them) and many tapa bars and cafes (or they close after 2 and don't reopen in the evening).

So today, after our classes (Carolyn and I are both taking classes in the morning this week), we've just been relaxing and enjoying some quiet time... A first since we got here! Must say it's rather nice. We will even have a chance to have supper before we head off to the show (Rosario Toledo and Joaquin Grilo are on tonight)!

Tomorrow will be a different story--we're back to practice time and class time... So, that will leave us with very little time in between. But that's ok. How often do we get to positively OD on flamenco?

I'm absolutely loving my class this week, btw. Ángel Muñoz is not only a ridiculously talented bailaor--he's also a brilliant teacher. I'm glad I decided to take a lower level on this second week! My class last week was also pretty great, but I had to be on my toes (not literally) all the time. It's nice to be able to focus more on fine-tuning stuff now, rather than just on trying to remember choreography.

Looking forward to the rest of the week.

Day trip to Sevilla

I love Sevilla. So lively, so lovely, so clean.

One of these decades, I really should make a point of going back and staying longer than a day. Mind you, my full day and a half there four years ago was loooong in comparison to today's quick day trip.

We took the 9:30 train out of Jerez and arrived in Sevilla just before 11. Then, we walked, walked, walked. And walked some more, crisscrossing all over the historical centre. We oohed and aahed at the cathedral and the outside of the Reales Alcázares, even though both Carolyn and I had been there before. But, let's face it: the biggest cathedral in the whole wide world? Still a sight to behold. My favourite part is still the super tall minaret-turned-belltower, the world-famous Giralda.

After oohing and aahing, we shopped for some flamenco-related items impossible to find at home and had lunch at a little Italian restaurant facing one of the many little plazas in the historical centre. Why go to Spain and eat at Italian restaurants, you may ask? Because they're like the Second Coming when you're vegetarian, that's why!

On our way back to the train station, we stumbled upon a "flamenco museum." We didn't go in, but checked out the super-touristy shop and these:

(Couldn't resist the cheesy photo-op...)

Anyway, tomorrow it's back to classes -- this time in the mornings. Hard to believe we've officially hit the half-point of our time in Jerez!

All's well that ends well...

Today was the end of our first week of classes. Time sure flies when you're having fun! Tonight we're off to see Isabel Bayón's company at the Villamarta--I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a more traditional show.

Tomorrow's our one day off, and we're using it to go to Sevilla on a day trip (did anyone say, "crazy wonderful flamenco shopping district?") Then, on Sunday we start our second week of classes... And we go on till the bitter end!

Here's hoping for happy toes! (current status = Owie)

More pretty shoes...

And, this time, they're mine! 

Hungering for a bit of flamenco puro...

An odd title, yes. Especially considering I'm in Jerez de la Frontera, if not the birthplace of flamenco, as close to that as anything gets.

But the thing is, so far, we've been so busy with classes and practice (and the consequent sore toes [me], blisters [Carolyn] and the odd strained muscle or joint [both of us]), we've pretty much stuck to the shows at the Teatro Villamarta. So far. Because the Flamenco Festival is not limited to the theatre, no sir. There's flamenco all friggin' over, all friggin' day and night long. Official festival programming all over town, plus the usual peñas, café cantantes, juergas and all other shape, manner and form of flamenco imaginable and unimaginable in this world (and, likely, others).

Still, the shows at the Villamarta are free for us students, so it's not something to be passed by just 'cause. The tricky bit is that, it being the Festival de Jerez, it's a showcase of old and new, traditional and innovative, puro (pure) and fusion. And, so far, the only traditional (puro) flamenco we've caught at the theatre was on our first night, with La Farruca's fantastic show...

On Day Two, we had that Japanese guy's flamenco / balleticky rendition of the Spanish traditional play, La Celestina.

Day Three = dark stage

Day Four (yesterday) = Rubén Olmos's very strange, very fusiony show, which had very little flamenco, but lots of modern and fusion and ballet and... Carolyn loved it, self-admittedly because of her ballet background. I mostly hated it, self-admittedly because it seemed to me just a crazy mix just for the sake of making a crazy-mix show. There were bagpipes at one point on stage, for crissakes! BAGPIPES! And a marching band. And a cross-dressing principal dancer in a fluffy-sleeved bata de cola. And... did I mention the friggin' bagpipes??? I'm not saying the dancers weren't talented, or that the show didn't earn kudos for its courage and inventiveness, but... Bagpipes and a marching band? There's flamenco / modern fusion. And there's somebody's crazy dream turned into a stage production. In all fairness, though, there were a couple of the group choreographies I did enjoy: a foursome of women doing an amazingly in-sync piece with mantones, for one thing, and crazy Rubén's use of his very own mantón (or is it a MAN-ton?)

Day Five (today) = A cute, enjoyable more-play-than-dance-show production by Javier Latorre and his company. I felt bad for the non-Spanish speakers because there was a lot of dialogue and some of it was pretty poetic. Overall, I enjoyed it because it was fun (and, self-admittedly, because of my theatre background) and cute and clever. But I still want to watch some "real" flamenco pretty soon...

The program for next week looks promising, though! Manuela Carrasco, Mercedes Ruiz... I can't wait!

And there's, of course, the other flamenco. The peñas, the café cantantes, the odd construction worker breaking into song or the person reviewing their footwork in the middle of the street. Or the car going by, stereo blasting flamenco out of the open windows...

Five days in, and we're practically Spanish!

Actually, I was just referring to our eating habits--Carolyn still doesn't speak the language and, even though I do and I'm getting used to the Andalucian accent, I'm still having a hard time with it at times. But we've started to sit down for dinner between 9 and 11:30 at night! Now all we need is a siesta between 2 and 5 in the afternoon, and we're set! Ole!

All week we've been waking up early (for vacationers) and heading down to Joanna Parmelee's practice studios on Calle Benavente Bajo, a short walk from our little flat. Mind you. In downtown Jerez, everything is a short walk away from everything else. We knew of Joanna from our Victoria flamenco mentor, Veronica Maguire, who strongly suggested that we book one of Joanna's two little studios to practice what we learn in our workshops. These are the two little courtyards inside Joanna's place:

And here we are, at the front door:

If we look bundled, we are. Today was the coldest day here so far, at 14 degrees Celsius. Still better than 5. And so much better than snow (and windstorms--sorry, Victoria friends!)

Till next time.

Inane? Yes. Inspiring? Yes.

The Spanish know how to get you to eat your fibre!

A Dancer's Conundrum

Yesterday, three days into our intensive two-hour-and-a-quarter-a-day flamenco course, Carolyn and I realized we just couldn't keep up in class as long as we kept wearing our old, battered flamenco shoes. Seriously. The thing about flamenco shoes, for those of you who don't know this, is that they need to support your foot properly. Otherwise, you could wipe out or get seriously hurt while dancing. So, after our practice session from yesterday morning, we headed out on a mission to find new shoes. We were going to get some anyway... We just didn't realize the need would make itself apparent so soon...

The mission was successful... So, where is the conundrum from the title of this post, you may ask?

Well... What happens when the old shoes are too old and the new shoes are too new? Flamenco shoes, like any other kind of shoes, need to be broken in a little. So, wearing a brand-new pair for two hours and a quarter of intense abuse... I mean use... ? Not such a good idea. In such a situation, it would be wise to wear the new shoes for a little while, then switch to the old ones... But if the new pair feels soooo stable, have such a great sound and are sooo solid... What harm can it do to just keep wearing them, right? Well, tell that to my sore toes and Carolyn's heel blister. :-( Needless to say, we were back to our old flimsy shoes today... And missing the new ones... I don't know about Carolyn, but tomorrow, I'll start all over again with the new shoes... Wear them for the first bit of class. Then switch. None of this "but they feel sooo solid and sooo great" BS. You'd think I'd know better by now.

And speaking of shoes... Carolyn just got a new second pair. They're purple and gorgeous, and the only reason why I didn't get a pair just like it, is because they didn't have them in my size. I'm so jealous!

Instead, I ended up getting myself a pair of basic runners after discovering a hole rapidly forming in the ones I wore from home (shame on me). I suppose I liked those old runners so much I almost literally wore them to death... (Kinda like the flamenco shoes I brought with me... May they last me long enough for me to properly break in the new ones!)

No show tonight at the Villamarta, so Carolyn and I decided to take the night off and treat ourselves to a nice real dinner. At an Italian restaurant (the only veggie-friendly type of restaurant in this town). We owed it to ourselves... Especially since I had forgotten that yesterday was Andalucia Day, a holiday in, well, Andalucia. Grocery stores? Closed. Our fridge? Empty. If it hadn't been for a bakery that happened to be open and a bit of cheese left over from our first and quick grocery run from Saturday, we might have been rather cranky by the time the grocery stores opened again today.

So all's well that ends well. We have a fridge and cupboards full of good stuff and we're ready to tackle the rest of the week!