From the Teatro Real to the Arriaga in Bilbao, passing through the Villamarta in Cádiz and this Wednesday night at the Liceu itself… venues throughout the Peninsula have signed up for Sara Baras’ tribute to Paco de Lucía on the 10th anniversary of his death. They are big words. Flamenco words that struggle to undo that lump in the throat, a bundle of deep emotions that have been dormant for a decade, so incredulous.
Sara Baras has always been synonymous with freshness. Although the Cádiz dancer likes to look in the mirror of Carmen Amaya, she will rarely be seen in the mysterious folds of a dark art. But the Sara of yesterday at the Gran Teatre was a mature, wise dancer, capable of great sobriety in what is perhaps her most elegant show. A reflection in which she dances to death and the rage of mourning, in that beautiful pas de deux with Daniel Saltares.
Six beams of light cross the stage at the entrance, evoking the guitar strings of the one from Algeciras. Strings that will later appear vertically, later crossed or in a square game… a leitmotif that is worth a thousand words to evoke the greatest and most missed guitarist. This is a love letter. From Cádiz to Cádiz. A you play and I dance.
It was not easy for her to immerse herself in the memory of someone who was her great friend, mentor and teacher. “I always thought that I had not reached the maximum of my possibilities to dance for him,” the dancer said. But looking back at those 25 years of company that the choreographer and director has also led – because Sara is also celebrating her anniversary – have made Paco’s influence and legacy evident. It was his turn to thank him. Return it to the public with all its charisma.
And that elf has made his appearance among the gold and velvet of the Liceu with that Vuela that has no aroma of farewell, rather of “I go with you in the freedom of your guitar.” The show moves through very different genres and is structured in four acts, like the operas that take place within these walls. Baras, who signs the direction, script and choreography, baptizes them, gives them the title: Wood, Sea, Death and Fly. The cabinetmaker’s wood, the strength of the roots, the warmth; the sea that invites you to sail, to paddle with shawls made of fishing nets; death, the depth of emotions; to fly, the joy of letting yourself go… “If I live when I am alive, I fly when I am dead,” says a voice-over that recites the texts of Santana de Yepes.
The author of the music, Keko Baldomero – what an image of Lucía when the musician crosses his leg and supports the guitar! – at times puts together a plot thread inspired by the honoree. And how inspired he is! Diego Villegas’ sax -and the flute and the harmonica- evoke the adventure with jazz or world music. The singers May Fernández and Matías López El Mati, rabidly applauded, give their all. And the five dancers, six with Sara Baras, exude honesty, on their feet. Especially her, which is planted in her zapateadas and which seem stripped of all effect.
Between bursts of applause, olés and ovations, the respectable people do not want to let them go… and they only need a spark to get going again and resume the flamenco party. “What a beautiful theater!” She says when the protagonist takes the microphone. “We carry this land in our hearts, like the maestro. Thank you very much for so much love and respect for the culture and flamenco,” he adds in front of a theater sold out if we discount the seats on the sides of the different floors, which do not seem have gone on sale.
The audience goes crazy, they compliment her, “Presiosa!”, and she goes down to pick flowers, stepping on the semi-stage that covers the pit. “Wasn’t your mother here today, Mati?” And the woman stands up to the singer’s blush. And they start again… the musicians mark some steps celebrating life. And Sara then gives herself again, playful, fun and tearful. A transcendent Sara, in this Fly yes.
They will fly but they will return: this has only been a warning for the season they will do in Barcelona next fall, before leaving to tour internationally. It’s for you, Paco!
