Especial IX Festival Internacional de Jerez 2005. Antonio Marquez – 'Sombrero de tres picos' 'Zapateado' 'bolero'

 

IX
FESTIVAL DE JEREZ 2005.

Compañía
Antonio Márquez

“Sombrero de tres
picos”, “Zapateado”, “Bolero”
Tuesday, March 8th,
2005. 9:00pm. Teatro Villamarta, Jerez.

All
the information IX Festival de Jerez

Dance: Antonio Márquez, Sara Calero, Maite Chico,
Mercedes Burgos, David Sánchez, Rocío Chacón,
Johana Flores, Virginia Guiñales, Silvia Velis, Nieves
Portas, Carmen Alférez, Marta Toca, Aranzazu Gómez,
Jairo Rodríguez, Elías Morales, Daniel Fernández,
Javier Sánchez, José Antonio Torres, Rubén
Martín, Juan Francisco González, Francesco Bucci.
Cante: Johana Jiménez, Guitar: Diego Franco. Flute:
Pedro Esparza. Percussion: Javier Fernández. Choreography:
Antonio Márquez, Currillo. Music: Manuel de Falla,
Maurice Ravel.

Text: Estela Zatania

Tuesday, March 8, twelfth day of the Festival de Jerez, we
were treated to a recital by guitarist Juan Manuel Cañizares
(Sabadell, 1966) at the Sala la Compañía. The
ten years the musician spent alongside Paco de Lucía
have done him no harm and he is an inspired and original composer.
The program included a variety of themes showing diverse contemporary
influences, with backup provided by the second guitar and
bass of José de Lucía and the percussion of
Antonio Granjero.

A wardrobe full of color, lots
of innocent gags and a highly professional corps de ballet

The next to last night of the Festival at the Villamarta
theater brought quite a different offering from what we’d
seen to date. Antonio Márquez is a dancer who unabashedly
delights in his admiration for the most traditional kind of
Spanish and flamenco dance which he infuses with a freshness
and vitality that are hard to criticize. His “Three-cornered
hat” [Sombrero de tres picos] with music by Manuel de
Falla is a faithful adaptation of the version popularized
by legendary dancer Antonio Ruiz, or simply “Antonio”
as the man who practically invented the Spanish dance repertoire
as we know it today came to be known. With a strictly traditional
wardrobe full of color, lots of innocent gags and a highly
professional corps de ballet, the show charmed even young
avant-gardists who happened to be in the audience.

After intermission, another classic dance, this time with
Antonio Márquez on his own for a zapateado in full
traditional attire. Immediately following, was one of the
most interesting moments of the entire festival. The complete
group, some twenty dancers, appeared from the rear of the
stage with dimmed lights, no music, voice or percussion of
any kind, but only the most absolute silence, danced a molasses-slow
solea without so much as a shoe scuffle, not to mention heelwork.
Ten men and ten women moving like a single individual with
no compás other than that of their own movements –
it was a magical moment that seemed to highlight the innate
beauty of flamenco. Not even a smoke machine gone amock sending
its discharge into the audience and setting off a massive
attack of coughing in the front rows could spoil the effect.
I think it was at that precise moment I realized Márquez
is one of the best choreographers of the Spanish and flamenco
genre. And how nice it was to feel the depth and mystery of
that dance without having to intellectualize or untangle metaphysical
riddles. Flamenco has its own mystery and you have only to
let it manifest itself.

Everything works and it’s
impossible not to get carried away by the rich visual banquet

The rest of the show consisted of Ravel’s “Bolero”,
17 minutes of assorted comings and goings of dancers, different
combinations of individuals and fascinating formations, somehow
a perfect choreography despite some old cabaret tricks like
series movements a la Radio City Music Hall, or blinking strobe
lights, but everything works and it’s impossible not
to get carried away by the rich visual banquet. Thundering
applause, professional bows (something we haven’t since
in many years), a final fiesta bit of alegrías, Márquez’
astonishing pirouettes and a long footwork solo made up the
spectacular curtain call gambit.

A few people complained about the perpetual smile pasted
on all the dancers’ faces, a detail Márquez insists
upon according to what we’ve heard, but it’s no
easier to justify the cold, depressing image of expression-free
dancers, a gloomy black wardrobe and insufferable scripts
as we’ve seen over the course of this and other festivals.

 



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