![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Midnight Media Cafe - La Tabacalera
Friday, February 13th, 2009 09:49 pm.
La Tabacalera
From Carlos Saura's Carmen
The other night, I mentioned that my father was a flamenco dancer. He was well-known in Spain in the 1930's and 40's, and when he came to America, he opened the first flamenco nightclub in Los Angeles. I was raised around this music, around the people who performed it. Whenever there was a get-together at our house, there was always music and dance - Ernesto or Gino would have his guitar there, and my dad, my mom, and their fellow dancers would have fun going to town. Flamenco is a very participatory form - dancers spontaneously do their stuff at parties and gatherings, because it's fun and they don't miss an opportunity to hoof it.
It's also extremely expressive, as well as being difficult. People tend to think of it as a "folk" dance. It's anything but. Flamenco is a classical dance, fully as difficult and demanding as the French court dances that the Russians developed into the ballet that we've come to equate with the term "classical". Kids start at 4 or 5 years old, learning the traditional Sevillanas, a dance that the majority of Spaniards can do because...well, because everyone does it, at parties, fairs, festivals, whenever. Those who feel an aptitude go on to study dance, and a few make it as performers. A few.
All this by way of introducing tonight's clip, a scene from Spanish director Carlos Saura's film Carmen. It's the second part of Saura's Flamenco Trilogy, in which he explores the three theatrical creators that have defined Spain's image to the rest of the world: Federico García Lorca (Bodas de Sangre), Bizet/Merimée (Carmen), and Manuel de Falla (El Amor Brujo). In this film, the most realistic of the three, the story revolves around the artistic director of a dance company (Antonio Gades), who is casting and rehearsing his new stage production, a flamenco version of the classic opera. After a long search, he finds the perfect dancer (Laura del Sol) to play the hotheaded seductress, but finds to his dismay that she's bit too much like the role she's been chosen to play. Life imitates art, for lots of bait-and-switch fun. It's a great conceit, and makes for a wonderful film.
This is the full dance of Gades' Tabacalera scene. The word refers to the tobacco factory in the center of Seville (which is still there, by the way), where the fictional Carmen commits the murder that gets her arrested, thus crossing her path with that of the soldier Don José and sealing their doom. (Her rival and victim is here played by Cristina Hoyos, who is the prima ballerina, so to speak, of Gades' dance company, in real life as well as in the film. That's Gades at the end playing the soldier.)
The dance is pure flamenco, with the only operatic music being the love theme that comes in after the fighting is over. One of the more wonderful things about flamenco, for me, is that although most people think of it as being done to guitar music, in fact you don't need any instruments at all. As in this scene, hands, feet, and voice are all the music you need. The choreography itself is the orchestra. It's music that harks back to the most ancient forms.
There are no subtitles on this clip, alas, so I'm including a little rundown below. Read it before you watch the clip, because they're singing about the characters themselves. Enjoy!
( Lyrics in here )
For those of you who've ever wondered where I come by my personality - there are a lot of clues in this. Stereotypes are always based on at least a grain of truth, and the stereotype of the passionate, blood-thirsty Spaniard? Is based on more than a grain. This stuff is in my DNA. Watch and get a taste.
La Tabacalera
From Carlos Saura's Carmen
The other night, I mentioned that my father was a flamenco dancer. He was well-known in Spain in the 1930's and 40's, and when he came to America, he opened the first flamenco nightclub in Los Angeles. I was raised around this music, around the people who performed it. Whenever there was a get-together at our house, there was always music and dance - Ernesto or Gino would have his guitar there, and my dad, my mom, and their fellow dancers would have fun going to town. Flamenco is a very participatory form - dancers spontaneously do their stuff at parties and gatherings, because it's fun and they don't miss an opportunity to hoof it.
It's also extremely expressive, as well as being difficult. People tend to think of it as a "folk" dance. It's anything but. Flamenco is a classical dance, fully as difficult and demanding as the French court dances that the Russians developed into the ballet that we've come to equate with the term "classical". Kids start at 4 or 5 years old, learning the traditional Sevillanas, a dance that the majority of Spaniards can do because...well, because everyone does it, at parties, fairs, festivals, whenever. Those who feel an aptitude go on to study dance, and a few make it as performers. A few.
All this by way of introducing tonight's clip, a scene from Spanish director Carlos Saura's film Carmen. It's the second part of Saura's Flamenco Trilogy, in which he explores the three theatrical creators that have defined Spain's image to the rest of the world: Federico García Lorca (Bodas de Sangre), Bizet/Merimée (Carmen), and Manuel de Falla (El Amor Brujo). In this film, the most realistic of the three, the story revolves around the artistic director of a dance company (Antonio Gades), who is casting and rehearsing his new stage production, a flamenco version of the classic opera. After a long search, he finds the perfect dancer (Laura del Sol) to play the hotheaded seductress, but finds to his dismay that she's bit too much like the role she's been chosen to play. Life imitates art, for lots of bait-and-switch fun. It's a great conceit, and makes for a wonderful film.
This is the full dance of Gades' Tabacalera scene. The word refers to the tobacco factory in the center of Seville (which is still there, by the way), where the fictional Carmen commits the murder that gets her arrested, thus crossing her path with that of the soldier Don José and sealing their doom. (Her rival and victim is here played by Cristina Hoyos, who is the prima ballerina, so to speak, of Gades' dance company, in real life as well as in the film. That's Gades at the end playing the soldier.)
The dance is pure flamenco, with the only operatic music being the love theme that comes in after the fighting is over. One of the more wonderful things about flamenco, for me, is that although most people think of it as being done to guitar music, in fact you don't need any instruments at all. As in this scene, hands, feet, and voice are all the music you need. The choreography itself is the orchestra. It's music that harks back to the most ancient forms.
There are no subtitles on this clip, alas, so I'm including a little rundown below. Read it before you watch the clip, because they're singing about the characters themselves. Enjoy!
( Lyrics in here )
For those of you who've ever wondered where I come by my personality - there are a lot of clues in this. Stereotypes are always based on at least a grain of truth, and the stereotype of the passionate, blood-thirsty Spaniard? Is based on more than a grain. This stuff is in my DNA. Watch and get a taste.
