Flamenco’s everlasting magic
When Cristina Hoyos walks into the room and says, «Hola!» with a broad smile on her face, I’m left somewhat speechless. I remember her performing at the Herod Atticus Theater years ago. It is a distant memory, yet a very intense one. Cristina Hoyos. Carlos Saura’s muse. She danced with the legendary Antonio Gades. She had walked onstage, picked up her skirt with the fingers of one hand, and raised the other into the air. These small, simple gestures set the theater on fire. It has been a long time since then. I look at her again, hoping my indiscretion does not show. She is still as beautiful, as luminous. She is wearing a red dress, a black shawl and black espadrilles. Her hair is gathered into a bun and covered in a fine black net woven with small pearls. Hoyos turns 60 this year and there is so much to talk about. She has spent the last two years touring Europe with her ensemble, the Ballet Flamenco de Andalucia. She was in Athens recently preparing for the group’s upcoming performances of «Viaje al Sur» (Voyage to the South), at the Badminton Theater in Goudi on September 26, 27 and 28. It was a perfect opportunity to get her insight on the production, on flamenco and dance more generally. Yes, Hoyos still takes to the stage, and maybe this is the secret elixir of her youth. I saw you dancing with Antonio Gades several years ago at the Herod Atticus Theater. What has changed since then? I have not changed very much on a personal level. I don’t dance the way I did back when you saw me at the Herod Atticus because of my age. But I maintain the same point of view on dance as I did then. Things have changed since then. Antonio Gades is no longer with us and for several years now I have directed by own dance company and created many choreographies. I have had the good fortune to be able to be creative after all these years. This has allowed me to keep in step with my own era, while also infusing new elements into flamenco while, in parallel, preserving the essence of traditional, classical flamenco. What does flamenco mean to you? Flamenco is about the dance more than the music. I was born with the urge to dance. When I was a little girl I would switch on the radio and dance to whatever was playing at that moment. As I was born in Seville, the birthplace of flamenco, I became a flamenco dancer. Had I been born somewhere else, I would probably be dancing something different. Flamenco is an integral part of my life, because it is inside of me and it is what I chose to do when I became a professional dancer at the age of 16. What about that magical thing called duende? In Spanish, duende means «spirit.» They say that spirits exist but we cannot see them. People have duende. A stick of furniture does not. Basically it is magnetism. Something that enchants us, entices us. There are many dancers who dance very well – you can see it – but something seems to be missing. Then there are others who, as soon as they step out on stage, enchant you. Maybe that is duende. That certain something that casts its spell over you. Do you continue to dance? I no longer dance like a young girl, naturally. I have the experience that comes with age and at this stage of my career, I dance differently, but I continue to feel the same emotions, the same sense responsibility – if not more so – whenever I step out on stage. What inspires your choreographies? Many different things. I start with ideas I want to express and then release them to my guitarist. Music is a very strong inspiration, as are the movements of my dancers. I look at them to see what I want to convey during the performance. Obviously I am also influenced by my state of mind or my experiences at any given moment. Tell us briefly about the performance you will present in Athens? The performance is based on three basic emotions presented in flamenco and which, naturally, exist in real life: joy, tragedy and passion. These three elements are normally interconnected, but I wanted a performance that presented them as three separate things, in three different colors. In the first part, we are in a white universe: pale tones, plenty of light, happy gestures on inspiration, the joy of life. All this is interrupted suddenly by the tragic elements that can also occur in life, such as an accident, an illness, a war. This is a world of black. What is it that helps us overcome this situation? What brings us out of tragedy and away from pain? It is our lust for life and love. Love in the broader sense. The color here is red. It is the love we have for our companion or, if we have it, for humanity, our environment and for life itself. It is our desire to return to a state of happiness, to the good things in life. Every one of these states of being are differentiated in terms of movement and music. This article first appeared in the September 9, 2007 edition of K, Kathimerini’s Sunday supplement.
