Interview with ANDRÉS MARÍN.

By Estela Zatania

«Looking to the future, but always glancing back to the past?»

Andrés Marín was born in Seville in 1969, a date that situates him squarely in the generation of experimentalism in flamenco.  Respected within the profession, but relatively little-known by the general public, he never had formal classes or belonged to any company.  His ground-breaking works, his original post-modern aesthetic, and his conceptual style push the limits of an art-form for which he feels the deepest respect.  On September 22nd, within the scheduled performances of Seville’s Bienal de Flamenco, at the Teatro Central, he will debut his latest work, “El Cielo de tu Boca”.  In his dance studio in the heart of the old town where he first saw the light of day, we had a long talk, about the debut, his background, and flamenco in general…

Andrés, I’ve heard you mention preserving your father’s name, tell me a little about this…
Well, my father was a flamenco dancer, from Seville…he danced all his life, that was his profession.  He danced with a partner, because there used to be partner dancing in flamenco, Antonio Gades was one of the last, hardly anyone dances in couples any more. He met my mother who was a flamenco singer, she was also from Seville, from Olivares.  There was a singer called el Niño Olivares, that’s how she got started.  My father went to work with Pepe Marchena, who was at the height of his career, the touring variety shows that were popular at the time.  Then he went with Juanito Valderrama, and that was his last tour, because then he met Pulpón, who didn’t do that circuit, but worked with nightclubs, before the festivals started, in the nineteen-fifties.  My father was of the old school, the generation of grandfather Farruco for example.  So, in this sense I’m trying to preserve his name.

He always wanted me to dance, and when I was 14 my mother said “you forget about dancing, it’s a lousy life, no money in it”, but my father said “even though there’s no money, let the kid dance”, because my father saw I had some ability, not that I was better or worse than anyone, but that I liked it.  I was the only one of five children who liked to dance, I was always dancing.  Over time, I realized that my father, with all that he’d struggled and worked, was forgotten.  So now, for me, it’s very rewarding to be able to dance, and since I have the same name, everyone who used to know my father says “oh yeah, right…this must be the son of Andrés”

So it was your father who taught you?
Absolutely.  He showed me the basics.  You have to really love this, and have lots of respect, and be really hooked.  He taught me that money is not the most important thing in this.  My father loved to dance, and be different.  He was a great lover of cante too.  He taught me to love flamenco, and the compás forms and the traditional structures.  I developed little by little, made lots of mistakes along the way, and more that I’ll surely make…

What you said before, that people used to dance in couples….I hadn’t though of it until now, but it’s true, you seldom see that any more…
Of course. I really believe dancing is very personal and spontaneous, and everyone has to express their individuality.  The corps de ballet and all that, isn’t too interesting for me, I’m talking about flamenco of course.  This is a genre that expresses suffering, happiness…  Now it’s no different from before, I’m talking about myself, I want to express social issues within my means of expression…war, consumerism…  All that affects me one way or another, and when I create a dance, my vehicle is flamenco, these are the “dark” feelings I need, so it doesn’t degenerate into folklore, that’s my philosophy.

“When I see someone expressing truthful feelings, and it smells like flamenco, that’s what I’m looking for”

On occasion you’ve said it’s necessary to get away from “polkadots”…do you mean that figuratively or literally?
No, look…what I mean to say is flamenco isn’t a Halloween get-up, you’re not more flamenco because you wear a polka-dot scarf.  No matter how you dress, if you have something to say, you can get the message across.  But there used to be an aesthetic, like the typical men’s short-cut jacket and vest, I’ve got a picture of when I was small dressed like that…or the woman wearing a long train… Lots of people think that when you dress like that, you’re somehow more flamenco, but if you’ve got nothing to say, no matter what you wear, you’re not going to communicate anything.  I always wear skin-tight trousers, before anyone else was doing it, because I think for certain things I do, it’s more visual, and I dance wearing a shirt because with a jacket and suit, it doesn’t feel normal.  First there was the bolero jacket and vest, then the normal two-piece suit, jacket and pants, people like Paco Valdepeñas, it’s another look.  I don’t think it makes sense to wear the short jacket and vest, it’s not worn any more, you have to keep your arms to a certain height, and respect that line, and it would be limiting for the things I do.  I’ve often thought it would be fun to dress up like a dancer, because I like it, but it’s limiting.

Do you feel more appreciated outside Spain?
I feel appreciated by the people who appreciate me, whether in this country or elsewhere, but in Spain I’m somewhat unknown, maybe I don’t have the impetus I have in other countries, it’s an uphill struggle here, but I’m not an ambitious type of person, I have my path and my pace, little by little… 

You’ve worked in Japan a great deal, how are you received there artistically?
Yes, I’ve been to Japan, they made quite a thing of it at the time, but now I go less and less, it’s not so easy when you go abroad…

They’re crazy about you in Holland…
I had an impact in Holland because flamenco was still very virgin when I got there, and I think I gave a lot to many people there who today are dancing very well, but mostly what I contributed was teaching them to love flamenco, because I truly believe that above all else, you have to be a real flamenco follower.

Is it true you’ve never danced in a company?
Never.  I’d stopped dancing for a while, and when I returned, I never wanted to be in a company, because deep inside I had the concept of my father, but no one really left a mark on me, I’ve never considered whether that’s good or bad.  I’m anarchic, I’ve always had my own references in my head…  I was crazy about Antonio Gades, crazy about Farruco, I also loved Mario Maya, Antonio…and from each one I took what I could use…Güito, Manolete…

“I can do flashy things too, but I’m not interested in applause, what I want is to trigger a reaction”

A lot of people compare you to Israel Galván, I don’t really see it…
It’s two different paths, well, I mean, neither one of us is mindlessly repeating the old school, so in that sense, yes.  But I’m radically different from Israel, each one’s message is totally different.  I’m very anarchic, I never do a dance the same way twice, I love to improvise.

You always talk about doing more with less…sometimes, less is more…
For me it is.  Because if you can essentialize things…what I mean is, I can do flashy things too, but I try to reduce things to the essence, I’m always questing, it’s not because I don’t want to do anything, but because I see it as gratuitous, a cheap thrill, I’m not going to do a frenetic build-up in order to get applause, I’m not interested in applause, what I want is to trigger a reaction and be thought-provoking.

I know you sing, but have you ever done so professionally?
[He laughs]  I actually sang once at the Bienal de Sevilla.  When I’d stopped dancing for a while, a foreigner asked me if I wanted to sing with him, and I was bold enough to get up on stage at the Hotel Triana and sing soleá, but not for dancing, just me up front.  No, I’m no singer, I think in order to sing flamenco, you have to be born into it, and have a voice, a tradition… Cante is much more difficult that dancing.

Would you have liked to be a flamenco singer instead of dancer?
Of course, absolutely!

You’ve revived the show “Asimetrías”, but that’s not what you’re presenting at the Bienal this time…
No, I brought back “Asimetrías” for the Campoamor theater in Oviedo, and I’ve been going strong with it because it has some wonderful pieces, it was done with tender loving care, and now it’s matured, so we don’t want to lose all that.  For the Bienal it’s something different, what I’m doing is…how can I explain it…  When I did “El Alba del Último Día”, there’s a segment when I dance to the sound of a bell, two or three minutes, and it felt like too little so I thought, let’s see if one day I can do an entire show based on bells, I felt like moving the human body like a bell.  I don’t really know how to explain it, I’m going down the street, I hear a bell and a certain movement comes to mind, then I hear another bell, and I see another movement, and sort of playing with this idea, the sound of a bell always brings memories…of childhood, maybe of other cultures…it’s a landscape in your mind.  I met a musician who is a wonderful composer, incredible, his name is Llorenç Barber, and this man gives concerts of bells.  So I’m working with him around the idea of a bell, but it’s extremely difficult.  The work is called “El Cielo de tu Boca”, we’re working with the movement of the heavenly bodies, stars, constellations, all very abstract….it’s taking a lot out of me, very hard…

Are there recognizable flamenco forms?
There are recognizable forms, but it’s like fragments.  It would be easier for me to take complete forms I’ve already got structured, but I wanted to do something else, I’m not dancing complete dances, say, of twelve minutes, but rather fragmenting and changing things…bambera, farruca, cantiña…  Instead of a complete siguiriya, I only want the ending styles, what each singer brings from his experience: we sit down, “let’s do this…let’s do the other thing…”, and this is what we’re working on, I honestly don’t know how it’s going to turn out.

Who are the singers?
There’s José Valencia, Segundo Falcón and Enrique Soto, three very strong voices, and the guitarist is Salvador Gutiérrez, in addition to the percussion of Antonio Coronal and Llorenç Barber doing the bells…and I’m the only dancer.  If I take more people, it’s becomes unwieldy and is difficult to move, that’s what happened with “Asimetrías” which has three women dancers, although in some places it’s easier to sell for that reason.  My dancing is very dark, very intense, it’s more difficult to do a show alone, but there are a lot of people who want to see conceptual shows, in France there’s a large audience.  Aside from that, I need to do conceptual things, I don’t know why…

“My dancing is very dark, very intense”

Is it always your own ideas, or do you have help?
I’ve got Salu López with me, also Juan Vergillos, Santiago…I always surround myself with people who can open windows, always in my own line, if I don’t believe in what I’m doing, it’s no good for me.  Salu for example, who’s been involved in dance…how can I turn the sound of a bell into movement?  I need someone to say “go over there, now come over here…”.  I’m always searching, and when I see someone expressing truthful feelings, and it smells like flamenco, that’s what I’m looking for.  I work with people from other disciplines, they make suggestions, then you have to make the final decision, but if it doesn’t smell like flamenco, what’s the point?  That’s my path and my concept.  I’ve read your reviews and I think they’re really great, and I can understand when you sometimes complain about the complex libretto [laughter], maybe it’s too convoluted, but I need that, because I have to go after concepts, reflections of the memories of a lifetime, always searching….

Do you receive any financial support for your work?
I applied for a grant, we’ll see if they give it to me.  I had some help for “Asimetrías”, but the minimum, I mean it cost me money in the end.  And for “El Alba del Último Día” I got nothing, it was all my own money.  Now I’ve asked for a helping hand, we’ll see…

What about the future of dance, how do you see it?
I think it looks very good, there are people around with plenty to say, and they’re fine professionals.  People are investigating, doing new things, and that keeps flamenco fresh, otherwise it’s stuck in the past.  Some have more to say than others, and are creating another sort of palette, other movements, and that gives flamenco tremendous vitality.  The cante was already very developed, there have been great stars who left an important legacy, and that’s what we have to draw on, looking to the future, but always glancing back to the past.


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