So come dance this silence down through the morning.
I've gone to flamenco in Madrid, Córdoba, and Sevilla. I've seen about ten flamenco shows since last May in those cities, and tonight I finally had the experience that I have been craving. First I went to a show at a place called Casa de la Memoria which is connected to the Sephardic Jew museum I went to in Córdoba. It was tiny and intimate and in a candle and lamp lit courtyard with a tiny stage and and incredible couple of dancers and a beautiful guitarist. The theme of the night was duende, and so of course I had to go. It really was an amazing performance and I left with my bones vibrating. Then I tried orange wine which I have wanted to try since I was in Sevilla last year, and god was it good.
Then I went to La Carbonerìa which is two literal minutes to walk from here, and I got there around 9:30. (the performance at la Casa de la Memoría had ended around 8:30) The first performance was fierce and amazing and the dancer was stomping around like she wanted to destroy the stage. She was awesome. And the singer! Ohmygod. I have never heard a flamenco singer live that sings like that. I mean, I have heard some more powerful, but not with more feeling. His voice was like he was singing seguiriyas the entire time. And then.
And then.
A boy shows up beside the stage. A boy who looks like he could be René Ramos' brother (but he didn't look like Sergio. Does that make any sense??), and he had the long hair and the lovely face. Mmm. He started doing palmas during the first performance during which the very white (read: mostly English/french/German/American) audience got drunk and talked loudly. Then during the second part!! Beautiful boy got on stage and did proper palmas and he sang! Oh! Oh. His voice was beautiful. So planitive and sorrowful and hungry. Ohhhh. Wanted.him.
And then we all moved (well, the few of us who stayed) out into the den part of the building and there is kind of a cove with stairs next to the little stage out there and I sat on the bench in front of it and Beautiful sat behind me, in the cove which is kind of the backstage area. Then he left after the first performance. Sigh.
The performance in the den was so moving. It was older men singing and playing and there was just so much in them, in their voices, in the songs. And one of them danced Sevillanas with a younger girl! Heeee. And then even more people left and that performance ended, and I went into yet another room where a small group was gathered and a man was playing the guitar like the stars had sent him to do so. And there was a group of guys around him, doing palmas to every song. And that was the Golden Moment for me. It was flamenco unprepared, unrehearsed, spontaneous and flamenco for the love of flamenco. Just for the joy of it. Not for money or tourists. It was just raw and simple and a pure, concentrated moment of my soul. And I walked home at 2am in a sweet, dreamy daze. When I wake up tomorrow, Sevilla is mine.
Then I went to La Carbonerìa which is two literal minutes to walk from here, and I got there around 9:30. (the performance at la Casa de la Memoría had ended around 8:30) The first performance was fierce and amazing and the dancer was stomping around like she wanted to destroy the stage. She was awesome. And the singer! Ohmygod. I have never heard a flamenco singer live that sings like that. I mean, I have heard some more powerful, but not with more feeling. His voice was like he was singing seguiriyas the entire time. And then.
And then.
A boy shows up beside the stage. A boy who looks like he could be René Ramos' brother (but he didn't look like Sergio. Does that make any sense??), and he had the long hair and the lovely face. Mmm. He started doing palmas during the first performance during which the very white (read: mostly English/french/German/American) audience got drunk and talked loudly. Then during the second part!! Beautiful boy got on stage and did proper palmas and he sang! Oh! Oh. His voice was beautiful. So planitive and sorrowful and hungry. Ohhhh. Wanted.him.
And then we all moved (well, the few of us who stayed) out into the den part of the building and there is kind of a cove with stairs next to the little stage out there and I sat on the bench in front of it and Beautiful sat behind me, in the cove which is kind of the backstage area. Then he left after the first performance. Sigh.
The performance in the den was so moving. It was older men singing and playing and there was just so much in them, in their voices, in the songs. And one of them danced Sevillanas with a younger girl! Heeee. And then even more people left and that performance ended, and I went into yet another room where a small group was gathered and a man was playing the guitar like the stars had sent him to do so. And there was a group of guys around him, doing palmas to every song. And that was the Golden Moment for me. It was flamenco unprepared, unrehearsed, spontaneous and flamenco for the love of flamenco. Just for the joy of it. Not for money or tourists. It was just raw and simple and a pure, concentrated moment of my soul. And I walked home at 2am in a sweet, dreamy daze. When I wake up tomorrow, Sevilla is mine.