At this point in the festival, a shake-up was needed. A jolt of freshness, a splash of age. If not, what is this all about? It has arrived. Manuela Carpio to La Alameda and threw a party on stage. They had not remembered her until this edition, she filled the theatre and now they will remember her forever. She turned the stands upside down with her overwhelming naturalness, in the celebration of dancing for dancing's sake and the joy of dancing.
They accompanied her to the cante the master's fat bells Enrique the Extremaduran —tremendous—, who days ago reviewed his 50 years cante on the same boards, the cracked grips of the Jerez native Miguel Lavi —how well he complained!— and the overflowing torrent of Manuel Tañe. On the guitar, John Requena. To the beat The Oruco y The Torombo. And to the palmas and fuss Israel de Juanillorro e Ivan de la Manuela.
The light came on and La Carpio appeared, crowned in red with a train and a smile from ear to ear. It was her day, an illusion… And she burst out singing with joy. She hugged the train and danced to it. cante, moved with gallantry and full of salt. Precise feet on the brush, a happy gesture and arms drawing garlands to adorn the Seville Biennial.
«Manuela Carpio came to La Alameda and threw a party on stage. They hadn't remembered her until this edition, she filled the theatre and now they will remember her forever. She turned the stands upside down with her overwhelming naturalness, in the celebration of dance for dance's sake and the joy of dancing»
Bathed by the zeniths, the cantes Lavi and Tañé, the first one proclaiming the flowers in the air and singing the I can't live this way the second adding other winks to Juanito Villar until crossing the cantes in the closing with slight out-of-tune sounds.
In the third and fourth, Requena began with seguiriya and put it in tune with the silences. Manuela Carpio danced in black mourning in a jumpsuit with trousers to the attacks of the cante hard and dry that cried their laments. Then El Extremeño thundered with sensitivity in the vidalita.
The soleá of Ramirez is another one in Enrique's throat. Manuela walked around asking for the cante to shelter her feet and her small body. She walked with elegance on the woods, solemn when she asked and always flamenco.
«Manuela said goodbye singing and dancing with her soul, skinning herself raw, giving her all on the stage, emptying herself to Seville with a broad smile that filled the courtyard. And everything else doesn't matter. (…) We knew what we were coming for. And we left with our bags full of gypsy dance remnants and an earache.»
Seeing your name on the poster is a guarantee. The Oruco gave a lesson in dance and rhythm only to the lullaby of palmas and the cheers that made bulería the paradise of this gypsy who brought about the party. They formed the jam. And they continued in twelve beats to close the Alameda, but not before enjoying the little dances of Israel Juanillorro and his nephew, aged ten, that of Iván and that of Torombo, who sang and danced full of art and wisdom.
Manuela said goodbye singing and dancing with her soul, skinning herself raw, giving her all on the stage, emptying herself to Seville with a broad smile that filled the courtyard. And everything else doesn't matter.
Because they had some things, of course. But we knew what we were coming for. And we left with our bags full of gypsy dance remnants and an earache. This must be said. Because the show was spoiled by the excessive waste of decibels making the cante and the music was a deafening noise that unnecessarily spoiled everything. And it's a shame, because what Manuela made shine could have been ruined by the public address system.
Credits
In body and soul, by Manuela Carpio
XXIII Biennial of Flamenco of Sevilla
Alameda Theater
2th October 2024
Dance: Manuela Carpio
Cante: Enrique El Extremeño, Miguel Lavi and Manuel Tañe
Guitar: Juan Requena
Compass: The Oruco and The Torombo
Palmas and trouble: Israel de Juanillorro and Iván de la Manuela
