“Cositas Mías”. Dance: Joaquín Grilo. Piano: David Peña Dorantes. Guitar: Antonio Rey. Vocal: Mara Rey and Makarines. Percussion. Isidro Suárez. Violin: Faical Kourrich. Rhythm: Javier Peña and Diego Montoya. Teatro Lope de Vega. September 13th, 2018. Full house.
Sara Arguijo
El Grilo is a unique dancer. Different, original, creative, intuitive, charismatic and natural in his forms. He has the virtue of entertaining, amusing, enchanting and seducing. Which is why this Thursday he brought a welcome breath of fresh air and art to the Bienal, something that spectators were tremendously grateful for, people who were hungry for shows they could connect with, without having to read a libretto.
In “Cositas Mías”, the man from Jerez, who hasn’t been seen on stage in Seville in a long time, sought out the essence of his dance to freely show everything that defines him in his artistic maturity with the self assurance that only comes with years of experience. And in this way, he had the audience in the palm of his hand from beginning to end, managing to treat some stage and lighting flubs, or the unnecessary baroque nature of some of the numbers, as mere anecdotes without importance.
In the first place, Grilo is impressive because he dances in the moment. To the rhythm being marked by a high-flying guest artist, David Peña Dorantes, alongside whom he created magical moments such as the ‘Semblanza de un Río’, and the fiesta finale. On flamenco guitar, enthusiastic and swift, Antonio Rey was wonderful. And the melancholic voices of the Makarines, and the broken sound of Mara Rey who seemed to want to reside in their singing when they shared a dialogue of flaming passion in a bulerías version of ‘María de la O’. In other words, the dancer sought out the complicity of his group at every turn, egging them on, making them have a good time and picking up that energy for himself.
Thus, more serene than at other times, he displayed his curved style, playing continually with white heat. His wonderful hands opened and extended in the rondeñas. His hips balanced teasingly in tangos. His body moved slowly and elegantly in sevillanas danced with a bullfighter’s cape. His soul was the demon in siguiriyas and his snide humor was the absolute focus in bulerías where he recreated his regular poses (the limping man, the drunk, the old man…). As for the rest, cheering and shouting and the feeling that finally, something happy had come to the Bienal.
Photos: Oscar Romero / La Bienal
