Day 122: Madrid, Spain

In a dodgy little bar in the Indian district of Madrid, 30 very eager patrons awaited the opening of the flamenco show. At half past 10, we all filtered into a tiny backroom lit with suggestive red sidelighting and too many people and not enough chairs. Standing in the back peering over 10 rows of seated heads, we had the best view as the dancers came onto the stage. A singer, guitar player and drummer almost shyly followed the three women, each one beautiful in her own right, as all took their places. The guitar player set her face at the first feeling of her fingers on the strings showing an obviously strong emotional connection with her music. The singer joined soon joined his rough voice with the fluid notes of the guitar, displaying an amazing range for what at first sounded like a limited voice.

Soft lights in the bar

Feeling the beats in their rhythmic clapping, the dancers merely sat to the right side of the stage for several minutes while they transitioned into their roles as dancers. The first one rose slowly, stomping and clapping, whirling and twisting in time with the music. Their faces slowly began changing into more intense expressions of emotion, each one fueling the others. The first dancer, making a brief introduction for herself through her body’s curves and movements, gave way to the second woman. Then the third dancer had her turn and all three rested for a few moments, still clapping in rhythem with the melodically sporadic music of the guitar.

Dancer bathed in red light

Again, slowly, the first woman rose for her performance. She danced with her entire body and mind, her expressions changing with her body’s movements to show such raw emotion in her face it nearly brought the audience to tears. It was clear that she surrended her mind entirely to her body and moved and felt and lived right there, never more alive than when she danced. It was beautiful.

Dancer in motion

The second woman, much younger than the others and by far the most conventionally beautiful of the three, took the place of the first dancer when she had finished her main performance. This second dancer could not even have been human, for her feet stomped and tapped and clicked with such speed that no human being could ever achieve such an act! It was utterly astounding and left the members of the audience with the jaws hanging open, clapping for her crescendo de pieds. It was astonishing.

The third dancer who, on any other occasion would have appeared self conscious and perhaps even unnoticeable, was curvier than the other two women and it was evident that she truly found herself in dancing. She was more expressive of body than face, unlike the other two women, and moved with beautiful agility and flexibility as she whirled and spun across that tiny stage.

All three on stage

The look of power and sensuality, of both discipline and unfettered instinct appeared in slightly different ways in all three dancers’ faces but it was clear that each had surrendered herself entirely and without restraint to her body’s natural instincts and movements. Thus, beauty and power met, creating such an intense emotional display that would otherwise be shared only between two people in private that moved the audience nearly to tears. Never before have I seen a display of such true, blatant emotion, and yet so readily shared. It was as if those women meant to encourage others to find something to bring out his or her own passion, passion so fierce and burning within one’s self that is must be unleashed to be fully human, to be fully alive.