Finally! Flamenco Night in Seville

SEVILLE, SPAIN -- April 26, 2006

My last day in Sevilla was spent wandering the Barrio Santa Cruz, lined with shops, cafes, restaurants, all enclosed in a labyrinth of narrow, winding, cobblestone streets. What is it with Europe and these twisting alleys? I enjoy getting lost, but I must admit, my sense of direction is really suffering!! I shared a farewell lunch with John before he left for the train station. It was 2:00 PM, and we were the first to be served. Everything is later here in Spain. The paella, fried calamari and marinated fish on the set menu were fabulous.

The highlight of my day -- and probably of my entire stay in Sevilla -- took place this evening, after the sun went down. I enjoyed a light dinner of crusty bread, cream cheese, and ripe, red strawberries before returning to the Barrio Santa Cruz, to find the Casa de la Memorias, where I had a reservation for the night's flamenco performance. As soon as I entered the inner courtyard where the performance was to be held, I knew I was in for a treat. The setting was intimate -- no more than 60 people lined the stage area in a U-shape, and the backdrop was a stone wall covered with vines and blossoming flowers. The ceiling opened to the floor above, and overhead, I could hear birds chirping their sweet melodies.

Soon the guitarist and soloist entered, and an incredible energy began sweeping through the room. The sounds, the melodies, the rhythms, were so captivating, so emotion- evoking, completely visceral and yet classically artistic. It was so moving that I felt my skin prickle over and my eyes haze over with the beginnings of tears. After a powerful opening performance, the first of two flamenco dancers took the stage.

This young woman was beyond beautiful, her hair carefully coiffed in a traditional Andalucian style. Her dress was colorful and flambouyant, ruffles spilling from her shoulders to the fringes at her ankles. She threw herself into the expression of the dance, tapping out intricate steps in hurried succession, swirls of dust rising into the air from the floor upon which she stood. And then in a split-second, her motions slowed to graceful, fluid movements, a fan in one hand which she flipped, opened, and twirled with the grace of a ballerina. Her face was composed and focused, her eyes searching and serious.

The second dancer brought a somber mood to the floor. Cloaked in black, her movements and expressions reverberated a sadness, a loss. One look into her face, which appeared and disappeared into the shadows of the night, and you could feel the pain which she so masterfully displayed through the motions of her body. Without warning, her body would convulse into a caucophany of brisk steps that would outdo the most trained of tap dancers. She pulled the ruffles of her skirt up to her knees to display her speed-of-lightning footsteps. It was exhilarating. And then, in a moment, the croon of the singer's melancholy melody would pull her back into an ethereal dance of sadness.

I was absolutely moved by the artistry of the Spanish flamenco. I left Sevilla feeling that I had authentically experienced this fine city. It is no wonder that it ranks so high in the wishlists of would-be travelers, and among the favorites of those who have visited and returned.

~Melanie