Today un tientos entero. I pretty much begged Diana to learn this tientos from La Niña de los Peines (or the first part at least) so that I could dance to it. I told her about how it brought me to tears every time I listened to it.
Yikes.
That's what she thought.
I remember singing it with her on the phone in the kitchen. And she got it. And I danced to it. And it felt wonderful.
No te he dao motivo
Porque yo no te he dao motivo
que yo no te he hecho daño
tú te fuiste de mi vera
de mi verita te fuiste
te apartaste tú de mi vera
sin yo haberte dao motivo
So my biggest issue with bulerías when I got to Jerez was the transitions. Well, ok, that’s not really true, my biggest issue after fear. But about the transitions, it was like all of a sudden I couldn’t see them. And I didn’t know what to do.
It was my first time in Ana María López’s class after dancing by myself in front of EVERYONE, which is what you have to do EVERY day there and actually NUMEROUS times every day.
And you can’t hide.
You can’t escape by leaving the room because someone calls you, even if you’re outside practicing or just trying to escape all of the smoke. - Yes, smoking. Lots of smoking goes on in class, from start to finish - And if you try to pretend you didn’t hear that you were called and still don’t come in, someone comes to get you.
Tangos de Granada
Yo no quiero que me digas
Que me quieres más que a nadie
Teniendo a tu madre viva
For this week...más bulerías.
Tengo una puerta en mi alma
Que no necesita llave
Yo la tengo siempre abierta
Y no me la cierra a nadie
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So, I've been talking a lot about bulerías over the past several days. I guess because there is a lot to say, and today shall be no different. For me, doing bulerías is kind of like taking a happy pill. Simply put, it makes me feel good. Even when I do it for just five seconds, a quick remate out of the blue, a moment of palmas, stuff like that.
Playfulness. Perhaps this has something to do with my obsession. Bulerías is about having a good time. Who doesn't want this? And let’s face it, it’s much more fun to watch someone dancing who is having a good time with it. The energy is contagious, if we’re open to it. I wonder, if we aren’t enjoying ourselves, are we even really doing bulerías?
Ok, so getting back to bulerías... I already told you about how I happened to get hooked on bulerías. And there are many stories to go along with that. Both Happy Tales (like seeing El Torta perform in Jerez last April...in a place I wasn't supposed to be, but where I went anyway) and Horror Stories (ok, perhaps not horror stories - all of the Halloweenness appears to be affecting my language - we'll call them Crying in Bulerías Class Stories.) But those can wait for later.
Right now let's just focus on some important things to know about Bulerías de Jerez, some of the cositas I referred to the other day...
For quite some time I have been thinking, "I should share letras on the blog." Because I like them. Because they're always running through my head. Because they speak to me. So, here’s number one,
Bulerías
My main obstacle to bulerías has always been fear, not trusting my instincts. It's no different from my main obstacle in life. It is what makes me so indecisive. No wonder bulerías has always been so hard for me...I don't trust. Wah! This realization was profound. In a moment I'll share with you some things I've come to know about bulerías…things that have made it easier, less scary to dance. (There is also a Workshop coming up where we'll cover this in-depth...) The truth is, now I kind of can't get enough of bulerías. It is not that the fear has been eradicated completely, but the excitement and fun usually push it off to the side now. Gracias excitement and fun.
So, I used to haaaaate bulerías (while secretly loving it.)
I guess you could say I was kind of consumed with fear during my time in Jerez. I did things anyway, but I also didn't do things. Below is an excerpt (with some side notes) written during my first week alone there. For those who are new to this blog, I had been in Jerez a couple of weeks before for the Festival. After a brief trip to Portugal, I headed back. I arrived on Friday the 25th and began my search for classes.
Prior to leaving for Spain I knew who I wanted to take from and had names of studios and phone numbers; I even had an idea of when some of the classes were offered. Sí! I had done my research, I promise, as best as I could from Portland, Oregon...I had to for the RACC grant. And during the festival I got an idea of where the studios were located. But I had yet to figure out the class times. Could I have done more to determine this earlier in the month? Perhaps. But figuring out where and when things happen in that town is not as easy as one might think…
I so enjoyed this interview with Antonio and learning about his life as a dancer and his philosophy about flamenco, but before we get to that, read what the Diario de Sevilla had to say about him, “Antonio Arrebola…one of the great promises of this art. A captivating, incredible style, withextraordinary technique and daring that leaves the audience amazed. Arrebola has physical presence on the stage. He grows, he is a giant. Because he is everything on the stage. With his securities and his insecurities. With his truth. With his linkage to the earth combined with his sense of humor. In him, forcefulness makes sense. As ferocity, fight. As sublime energy. An impressive figure that has the same content of his emotions.”
I was a junior in college. I was studying Spanish. Class was a struggle for me to say the least. The professor spoke only in Spanish, and I usually felt like a Charlie Brown adult was mwoah mwoah mwoahing at me all of the time. I can't even remember her name, the teacher's. I just remember she was eccentric, as they say, and that we went to her house once and she made us all mole. She was not Mexican but totally and completely obsessed. The mole was good enough. Anyway every day we would watch this "educational" novela and then answer questions about and "discuss" it. I rarely knew what was going on in class or with Raquel and El Padre Hidalgo on the TV set. Just one word sticks out in my mind, excavación. The whole novela had to do with some big excavation. So, why am I telling you all of this? Because a really good thing happened on account of that class with Señora Something-or-Other...
I became interested in flamenco.
Summer (and it's still summer) has been fun and funny in Sevillanas class, and I mean funny in a good way.
Funny laughing a lot while dancing with partners...
And trying to remember what step to do when while looking directly at someone as opposed to looking at yourself in the mirror
Or doing the coplas out of order and forgetting which one we were on
Or the music feeling crazy-fast and us feeling like we were running a marathon just to stay in compás all the while trying to remember the pasos
Or nearly bumping into our partners several thousand times (or perhaps actually bumping into them)
Today, I explain sevillanas...
"I want to be in class with Mercedes ALL of the time." That is what I wrote in my journal on April 13. But let's go back in time.
I came back to Jerez on Friday, March 25 and began investigating classes to take.
But I secretly didn't want to go to any.
A week in Jerez by myself. Poor planning by Laura. When will I learn that it simply is not fun for me to do these things alone? A week spent looking for studios, making calls, trying to understand when and where the different classes took place, feeling relief as I kept arriving at the wrong times and missing them. There is a semi-funny reason for this, but you'll have to wait to hear about it in a future post...I would like to say that this was on account of Spanish unpredictability, but it wasn't.
This is a tale of how certain events lead to subsequent events allowing for a vision in spite of skepticism and self-doubt. Basically, Portland Flamenco Events began without a whole lot of planning. It was one small idea for one small event that turned into a whole flamenco business! Ok, so allow me to begin this story with Ricardo López, for this guy is a big part of the reason I am pursuing this work right now. I met him in 2006 when he was in Portland touring as a soloist with the Nuevo Ballet Español as a part of the White Bird Dance Series. He inspired me from the moment I met him and saw him perform.
He did this smokin' bulerías surrounded by a group of dancers doing palmas and jaleos.
It reminded me of why I loved flamenco
And made me want to do flamenco
And be around flamenco
I have been performing for as long as I can remember - perhaps some of you have as well. It began at a very early age - with highly entertaining shows usually created and performed with my sister for my family. My poor family. As a little girl it progressed to producing plays with the neighborhood kids.
And in elementary school, PRESENTATIONS! Ah, the presentation; it quickly became one of my most favorite things.
Then came middle and high school and drama. Plays and musicals and more plays and musicals.How dedicated was I you wonder? Well, for those of you who know me, I actually CHOSE to get up very early to rehearse before school... I am not a morning person.
GUEST POST: Below is an article written earlier this year by Diana Bright, flamenco cantaora (and singer of many genres) and long-time member of the Portland arts community:
Find out what Marco Flores had to say in March during the 2011 Festival de Jerez about his life as a flamenco dancer. (I have a lot to thank this guy for - Aside from being a wonderfully inspiring teacher, Marco helped make it possible for me to travel to Spain this year. - ¡Muchos besos para Marco! - Were it not for his letter of recommendation, I'm not sure I would have received the RACC grant to study in Jerez. Gracias Marco por eso, por tu arte, por las buenas clases y por ser una gran inspiración y persona.
What show? TraCaTRA. Danica would arrive in Portland on Monday; the show would happen the following Sunday. We've put together shows in less time, entonces, "Sí, hagamos un show!" we decided.
El proceso para mí: I notice I often really really really want to do a show then stop wanting to as the date approaches because I get SCARED and start losing the motivation to prepare.
It seems to go something like this:
k, so I'm not in Flamenco Land anymore, but here is más o menos what I've been up to in Portland flamenco-wise during the month of June, followed by a little taste of what my friends were busy with in Jerez.
Getting Back to Regular Classes I was beyond excited to begin teaching again, inspired by my time in España and ready to share new insights and material. And I still feel this way, motivated just being at the studio with friends and students. There were many cookies in class to celebrate during those first couple of weeks and even fake cava. Actually, the cookies continued showing up throughout the month. And about the classes, hmm, Palmas has possibly been my favorite thus far providing the most unsolicited laughter. We played around with many funky patterns and got into some nice grooves. I love the collective energy we generate doing this; it just feels so good, and therapeutic.
Enjoy this interview in English and Spanish from earlier this year when Emilio Ochando was here in Portland.
February 1, 2011
Emilio when and why did you begin dancing? Well, as a little boy I was always dancing at home, dressing up and dancing in whatever way I felt. I started studying because of my sister. She was studying dance although she had to quit early due to knee problems. In Valencia I would go with my mom to pick her up from classes and watch through a little window. One day I told my mom I wanted to do it too. She asked me if I was truly serious about it, was I really willing to dedicate to it as I had seen how hard my sister had to work. I said yes and at 9 years old I began taking classes. I studied flamenco, ballet, classical Spanish dance, and modern. From the time started I was very serious about it; I knew I wanted to do do it professionally. I would go to school every day until 4:30/5pm then go to dance classes until 9:30/10pm, then go home, eat and do my homework. At the age of 16 I moved to Madrid.
