RAFAEL AMARGO FLAMENCO BALLET - TIEMPO MUERTO (TIME OUT)

RAFAEL AMARGO FLAMENCO BALLET  - TIEMPO MUERTO (TIME OUT)
Rafael Amargo is one of Spain’s top flamenco dancers. Enjoying movie star status in Europe, Rafael is a regular face on glossy magazine covers throughout the continent, and has been photographed by Bruce Weber, Annie Leibovitz and Christopher Makos to name a few. He is a versatile award winning dancer and choreographer. Whilst he adheres to the purest flamenco style, he has assimilated other types of dance, influenced by his studies in New York at the Martha Graham School of Contemporary Dance.
A young flamenco star with a great track behind him, Rafael was born in Granada in Andalusia, the heartland of flamenco. He studied with some of the best, including Mariquilla, Maite Galán, Alejandro Granados, Ciro, Manolete, El Guito, Antonio Canales and Adrián Galia. He began ballet and classical Spanish dance training at the Royal Conservatory of Madrid after seeing “Carmen” with Antonio Banderas. He was able to complete this training with his experience as a solo dancer in the dance companies of Antonio Canales, El Güito, Luisillo, María Rosa, Mario Maya, Rafael Aguilar, La Chunga and in Karine Saporte´s contemporary dance company. During the period he spent in Japan, he danced in the prestigious Flamenco tablao, and he was the choreographer for such Japanese dance companies, as Yuirko Yoda´s, Etsuko Saito´s and Chizuko Otsuka´s.
 
           1997 Rafael Amargo started his own company, Nacencia, where he showed that he is quick and efficient at creating stage shows that strikes up a connection with the audience. He has performed in the most important theaters, festivals and shows worldwide. He has also received 4 Max Awards (Highest distinction of the Spanish Scenic Arts): two awards as Best Dancer and Best Dancing Show for “Amargo”, one Best Dancer Award for “El Amor Brujo”, and one Best Dancer Award for “Poeta En Nueva York”, a show which has also been awarded as Best Show of the Decade by the readers of EL PAIS (Spains’ most important newspaper). He has also received the "Positano Leonide Massine Prize", in recognition for his work as a choreographer and a dancer. This award is the most important given to dance in Italy, which has been previously awarded Rudolf Nureyev, Maurice Bejart, Lindsay Kemp and other stars of the dance world. Rafael is the choreographer for the new London spectacular musical, “Zorro” with music by The Gypsy Kings.
 
 TIEMPO MUERTO (TIME OUT)
After flirting with modern dance, break-dance, aerial theatre and cinema. Rafael Amargo returns to the most flamenco essence with "Tiempo Muerto", the sixth show in his career. For this new production he has entrusted one of the biggest names of flamenco music to compose the music scores, Juan Parrilla, a celebrated musician and flamenco composer whom has previously worked along with the senior league of flamenco such as Antonio Canales or Joaquin Cortés among others. Juan Parrilla’s creating concept is certainly adjacent to Rafael’s concept – both have conceived modern variations of the earliest forms of flamenco.
The current musical group of the Compañía Rafael Amargo has been enlarged with a wind section, stringed instruments, woodwinds, bass, synthesizers and piano as to cover the musical needs of the score composed by Parrilla. El Cante (Flamenco singing) have been committed to the notable voices of Maite Maya, Carmina Cortés and Pedro Obregón. All the lyrics of the show have been written by Rafael Amargo.
 
 
 



Event Reviews

Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Spin, Spin, Sugar: Rafael Amargo Takes Town Hall with “Tiempo Muerto”
Review by Tony Phillips

Just steps from the Bryant Park tents, this 33-year-old bailaor showed clothes more effectively than Marc, Calvin or Oscar.  Floor-length dresses spun up past thighs as Rafael Amargo’s dancers drilled the floor like human jackhammers.  The company’s latest offering, “Tiempo Muerto,” is a white-hot fusion of flamenco and modern styles.
Daring costume choices ran the gamut from basic flamenco black to glitzy gold lame.  Mr. Amargo even wor e a spandex number that resembled the new, aerodynamic Olympic Speedo.  To say he was well received on the first of his two-night Town Hall stand is to understate the audience’s fervent cries of “Ole!” and even one case of actual swooning.
The titular opening number presents four, black-clad female dancers backed by the company’s excellent musicians playing instruments as traditional as Spanish guitar and the percussive box called a cajon and as unexpected as the electric flute.  Mr. Amargo shows off his flamenco chops, but also his time at the Graham School, with this homage to Martha’s “Steps in the Street.”
“Abandolao,” a fandango from his native Granada, is a chic, sophisticated duet Mr. Amargo dances in a white dinner jacket while “Matanzas” functions as a generous showcase for his two leads, Eli Ayala and Susi Parra, who share co-choreographer billing.  Ms. Ayala, who danced a spellbinding “Solea” earlier in the evening, actually stopped the show with her turn in “Matanzas.”
But it wasn’t until the final encore—an impromptu sing-along--that the company really turned on the charm.  Mr. Amargo, whose haircut is as precise as his dancing, flicked his sopping locks with each successive stomp of a pair of patent leather boots that would give even Prince pause.  One couldn’t help wondering where the company was headed post performance because though the show was over, they were hardly done dancing.

 

Monday, September 22, 2008
Rafael Amargo’s Tiempo Muerto at Town Hall
Review by Beth Nesbitt, Flamenco Buzz Correspondent

To quote Rafael Amargo’s definition of the idea behind his latest production, Tiempo Muerto, “…it is a parenthesis, a looking back at the past, a look so that I will continue further in my flamenco world. It means the missing beats (in between notes), the beats of silence, and beats of the heart, whatever marks the rhythm”. When flamenco as a musical genre is mentioned, one’s imagination immediately goes to a dancer’s furious feet or a singer belting out letras, forgetting that the silences in between breaths are just as impacting. When a performer stops for that breath, the mind instantly takes a photograph and breathes along with them.

A brilliant score by Musical Director Juan Parrilla set the mood that night with contemporary music respecting traditional flamenco melodies. This work is furthered by instruments that are not normally found in flamenco i.e., electric bass, drum/percussive set, cello, and flute. Sr. Parrilla’s style of flute playing is percussive and otherworldly; it left me with the impression that had he been the Pied Piper, I would have gladly followed him anywhere.

Rafael Amargo started the show with a super-fast paced Bulerías wearing what resembled jodhpurs, the voices of singers Maite Maya and Carmina Cortes clashing in the air. The stage was dark save for an overhead spotlight reflecting the angles of his face, the shaded parts of it a co-protagonist. Mr. Amargo is a consummate showman, with acrobatic dexterity, eclectic choreography, and theatricality that drags the audience by its ears compelling them to come along. We were all eager participants. The female dancers Eli Ayala, Carmen Iglesias, Rosa Jimenez and Susi Parra were all powerful in their expression, each with differing intensities of delicacy and strength. Many companies exact uniformity in their dancers. This was not the case here. Although all were doing the same choreography, each displayed a personal touch – the flick of a wrist, the lifting and rounding of a shoulder, the jack-hammer intensity of a heel tremolo.

The costuming was not the traditional lunares and ruffles but fluid jersey-like material, contouring that did not distract the eye from the dancer’s lines. At one point, in a heavenly white bata de cola, Carmen Iglesias danced a refreshing Alegrias. In the Silencio portion, Ms. Iglesias’s arms disseminated the heaviness of the tempo with unhurried arms and lunges. The choreography of the night reflected elegant modern dance elements incorporated with grounded and earthy movements.

I often watch the faces of the musicians as they perform. I am seeking an insight into what they are feeling, their reactions. Where is it taking them? If a guitarist closes his eyes and holds the guitar in an embrace, he has transcended to a place where the only language spoken are musical notes. The guitar playing of Eduardo Cortés and José Andrés Cortés provided a delicious smokiness that supported the powerful voices of the cantaoras. Rafael Amargo’s production of Tiempo Muerto was truly an exhilarating journey into the mind of a flamenco maverick.

Sunday, September 21, 2008
Compania Rafael Amargo - Tiempo Muerto
Review by Sarah Hart, ExploreDance.com
The lights darken and murmurs subside. Onstage, a curtain is slowly illuminated vivid crimson and nine silhouetted figures file in. I'm excited. This will be the first flamenco performance I've ever seen and I have reason to expect the best. Rafael Amargo, born in Granada, Southern Spain, the heartland of flamenco, has been widely praised for his exceptional dancing, his command of flamenco's essence, and his bold choreography. His achievements are all the more remarkable because he is so young. Amargo started his company, Compania Rafael Amargo, 13 years ago when he was just 22. Tiempo Muerto is his sixth show and he is not only the principle dancer, but also primary choreographer, art director, and composer.

When the music starts I am immediately struck by its thrilling urgency. It is the singing, however, that really impresses. I have heard "passion" and "drama" used abundantly to describe flamenco, but I am startled nonetheless by the almost desperate emotion and seemingly personal anguish that Maite Maya and Carmina Cortes, standing center stage, draped in black lace, occasionally thrusting out their arms and clutching their garments, convey.

Four beautiful dancers swirl in, feet pounding, arms whirling and then catching, crisply taut, in elegant arcs. They are followed by the much-anticipated Amargo. He wears dashingly tight trousers and his long hair whirls and clings wetly to his face. The exuberance and incredible skill for which he is known is immediately apparent—but, watching him dance, especially when Maya steps out and sings directly to him while the others clap and call out—I realize that what is really so compelling about this dance is in that concentrated attention and energy between musicians and dancer. Throughout the performance, when Amargo danced alone, the musicians would lean in towards him, urging him along, and as the energy built he would move as if possessed—as if the pressing rhythm and aching song had generated such power that he was overwhelmed and absolutely impelled to dance.

It was moments like those that made this performance remarkable. Although the obviously choreographed movements—as in the third when Eli Ayala dances a fluid, lyrical melding of modern and flamenco—were beautiful, it was when the interaction between musicians, singers, and dancers seemed organic and unchoreographed that the performance was truly spectacular. Especially touching was a long segment, starting with just the two guitar players and two singers sitting face to face and playing solos, when Eli Ayala and Susi Parra each danced alone while the others encircled around them. The tempo adjusted to the dancer's movement, and the dancer seemed to be drawing her energy directly from the encouragement of the music-makers.

At such times, when the performers' uninhibited expressions, or seemingly impromptu gestures, or highly individual styles, conveyed so eloquently that special energy of flamenco, the ubiquitous stage smoke and dramatic lighting in the show seemed not only unnecessary, but a detraction. Amargo succeeded, I believe, in doing what the show promised—it gave viewers a sense of flamenco's traditional essence. Ironically, this glimpse made me yearn to see this dance performed in a setting that was not a stage, without any of the bells and whistles, where the drama was generated entirely by music and movement.

That said, the costumes—especially the women's dresses—were fantastic. Designed by an acclaimed Spanish designer, they were bold and sensuous and perfectly complimented a dance that is more about suggestion than revelation. The press of a thigh against long, form-fitting long skirt, or an elegant jacket slowly removed as the dancing heats up, does wonders amplify to the tension—perhaps between desire and restraint—that seems inherent in the music.

This show certainly lived up to my expectations and I was not the only one who thought so. When the lights came back on and the packed audience shuffled and shifted in preparation to leave, I heard the woman next to me: "Bailor sensacional… bailor sensacional…" she said, again and again, shaking her head in wonder.

Venue:



 
Go Back

Select a date:



Event Reviews:

3 reviews available.
Read reviews