The benefits of taking public transportation

I wonder, if I took the bus to work, whether I'd run into some hot guy on the bus and dance por solea por bulerias with him.

I imagine that it would go something like this:

Flamenco Open Stage this Sunday

Our big student show is this weekend, and I'm really excited about it. We've been working on this long choreography por alegrias for several months now, and it's been challenging but freakin' awesome at the same time.

I'm even getting a skirt made special for the show.

That's life in showbiz, kids.

Has it been a week?

I know. It seems like eons ago when I last posted. Don't look at me like that. I've been busy.

So I thought I'd do a little touch base, and leave you with the cutest gypsy flamenco home video you've ever seen.

If I ever have a daughter, I'd want her to be able to bust out a buleria like this one:



You're looking great. Let's do lunch. I'll call you!

La Vida Flamenca

If you don't have any plans yet for tomorrow night, may I suggest you check out this show:




From the San Francisco Bay Guardian's Rita Feliciano:

The Azahar Dance Foundation is a good idea. Realizing that artists have a difficult time stepping out of the pack, the foundation for the past four years has supported flamenco dancers by giving them opportunities to put on a full evening's worth of their own work. This year it's Melissa Cruz's turn to curate a show. She has invited her French-Basque colleague Fanny Ara ("La Fanny"), tabla player turned flamenco percussionist Sudhi Rajagopal, Seville singer Felix de Lola, and master guitarist Jason McGuire to contribute to a program of choreographed and improvised works titled "La Vida Flamenca." Both the compact, petite Cruz — a student of the legendary Rosa Montoya — and the elegant Ara are experienced, well-known dancers, performing often with Yaelisa and Caminos Flamencos. They also are open to experimenting with the myriad musical and theatrical influences that are reshaping concepts of this Iberian–North African–Indian gypsy art. Three years ago, for instance, they were brave enough to join speed metal guitarist Benjamin Wood for "Flametal," a kind of Rocky Horror Picture Show of angst and theatricality. Cruz makes a 180 degree turn away from that show's extravagance with this evening of flamenco puro, in which nothing interferes with the direct expression of human emotions — passion and pain, exhilaration and loneliness — through music and dance. As always, at the heart of flamenco is the spontaneous give-and-take between musician and dancer that is at once playful and deadly serious.

Of course, I know this will be awesome. My teacher's the show's artistic director.

Be there.

LA VIDA FLAMENCA Sat/8, 8 p.m., $25–$29. Cowell Theater, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna, SF. (415) 345-7575

Lazy Sunday Afternoon Blogging

So I'm sitting here on my couch watching the Concert for Diana. So far I've seen Tom Jones, that girl that sings the song from "Laguna Beach," and Bryan Ferry. With the exception of Bryan Ferry, Duran Duran (!!!!!), and Joss Stone (although she's looking crazy these days), I've gotta say, the rest of the lineup is kind of ... meh.

Right now they're doing an Andrew Lloyd Weber segment, which I think is the most engaging set of performances so far. This woman's singing a song from "Jesus Christ Superstar," and she's totally rocking out. And it was announced that the original Christine from Phantom of the Opera was going to sing, at which the large crowd at Wembley ooohed and aahed. Impressive.

And now Donny Osmond is singing. What just happened here?

Oh. Donny Osmond was in "Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat"? Who knew?

Clips from the audience show that they're totally into it. I guess those Brits really love them some theatre!

I'll admit, I totally cried and was even sad for a few days after Diana got killed in that car accident. Don't even judge me. I can't believe it's been ten years now. If I had the means, I'd so create a concert of all of my mom's favorite singers, with all proceeds to benefit non-profit organizations my mom supported. Although my mom likes singers like Johnny Mathis and Andy Williams, so I don't even know if we'd even raise any money.

In case you were wondering, Andy Williams has a web site. Oh my god, so does Johnny Mathis!

In other news, I have two hours of flamenco coming up this afternoon. I bet you a carne asada burrito that I miss the Duran Duran performance. Ain't that a bitch.

Thursday morning Eva "La Yerbabuena" blogging

Por solea:



Eva, you are too good.

Hell yeah.

Oh yeah, and P.S.? My show last Sunday? Rocked.

Friday morning Flamenco blogging

Because I'm really into Fandangos right now:



Featuring a very young Chano Lobato!

I have another show in two weeks. Yes, I'm excited.

Sunday Night Flamenco Blogging

I had my first Flamenco show tonight. All day, I had been so nervous about it. Wanting-to-vomit-I'm-so-nervous style. What if I missed a step? What if I fell on my ass during my first turn? All these 'what ifs" running through my mind.

As a child, I had a history of performing; tap dancing, jazz and piano. State competitions and stuff. This should be old hat to me, right?

But I have so much respect for this art form, this gypsy dance, this song of the outcasts, that I wanted to make sure I did it justice.

I managed to pull it off, thank Jah. I did mess up a few times, but I don't really think anyone in the audience really noticed. And now I am more sure than ever that I've found the creative outlet that I've been searching for. I have another show at the end of the month, and I'm really excited about it.

Oh yeah, and I think I'm supposed to come up with a stage name. Because all of you who know my real name know that it isn't exactly ... Spanish-y. Any and all suggestions welcome. I feel weird making up my own Flamenco nickname. It's totally awkward saying, "hey, call me this!" But you know, whatever. All in the name of art or something.

Thursday morning Flamenco blogging

Ole!


No, I'm not this good. Yet.

It's good to have goals.


UPDATE: For you aficionados out there, I believe the first dancer may be Antonia "La Singla" who, according to this article, grew up deaf/mute after a bout with meningitis as a child. She's dancing por tangos in this clip and one may argue that since she's still able to dance so passionately even though she's unable to hear the music, the cantaores, or the palmas, that she's got the duende inside her. And lucky us who get to see it in action.

Then it's La Tati and El Guito dancing por alegrias. Classic. Am loving her dress.

The final number in this clip, the fin de fiesta, is interesting because it is danced por rumba, which is a significant point of departure from what we are used to (por buleria). Too bad the clip doesn't show the whole number.

¡Vamos ya!

Tonight is the first night of a 6-week flamenco workshop I've signed up for. My second workshop, to be exact. Cannot. Freakin'. Wait. I've been listening to flamenco and watching flamenco DVDs for the last two weeks, in preparation. Obsessed, I tell you. Freakin' obsessed.


(Photo credit: Ballet Nacional de Espana, from Flamenco World.)

Òle!

Tonight was the last night of a flamenco dance workshop I'd been taking. It's a bittersweet ending, because while I'm sad that the workshop is over, I've also been lucky enough to be able to yet again tap into my flamenco obsession. And better yet: I now have one dance under my belt. During the course of this workshop, we've learned just a few compás' worth of the bulerías. I absolutely cannot wait until the next workshop.

I don't even remember when my appreciation---and when I say "appreciation," I mean "insatiable appetite"---for flamenco began. But all I know is that I have been obsessed with this musical and dance style for decades. And I don't know what inspired me, but I decided to finally get off my butt and do something about it. As a kid, I'd danced tap and jazz, so the discipline needed to follow along in a dance class came naturally to me.

Anyway. The workshop is over, and I totally didn't suck. I think I'll be dancing flamenco for a while. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be good enough to perform. We'll see.

(Photo credit: "Flamenco Dancers," Jo Slater-Thomas)

You're not hardcore unless you live hardcore

It feels good to chill out at home. It's been a rough week.

My guitar instructor is starting to teach me flamenco stuff. I guess the first style I'm learning is soleares. I know there are different styles, but to be honest, I only know them by name only. I wouldn't even be able to tell you the subtleties between them. All I know is it's some badass shit.

I've basically been practicing the same 12 counts for a week now. I'm trying to execute the perfect rasgueado, in which you strum the same chord using your index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers one after the other. Pretty hard to do, but it sounds just ... cool.

You know those kids who pretty much stay in their room all day playing guitar? Those antisocial, artistic types? I think I'm becoming one of them. I've been back and forth between hospitals and work and my friend's house all week, and all I could think of the whole time (well, aside from the drama at hand, of course) was how much I couldn't wait to practice my guitar. I can hardly wait until my next lesson, I totally enjoy my weekly hour with my instructor, and I've never been so into learning a musical instrument before. And I've tried my hand at a few - piano, violin, clarinet. The artist in me is happy that I've managed to maintain my interest level so far, but the cynic in me is just waiting for the moment when I get bored.

Although, as I've mentioned before, I loves me some flamenco, so I don't see me getting bored for a long while yet. Ole!

I'm an artist, and I'm sensitive about my shit.

After coming to the conclusion that I need to do something constructive with my life, I started taking guitar lessons last week. Flamenco guitar. I figured this would be a great way to tap into my artistic side, involve me at a deeper level with my fascination with Spain and all things Flamenco, and to finally learn how to play the guitar.

Now, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But man. I had no idea.

My fingertips hurt like a mutha. They feel like I slapped my fingertips on a sizzling-hot skillet, on purpose. Right now, they sort of tingle, but after a while of practicing my chords and some plucking, my fingers feel like they’re going to fall off.

And let’s not forget my funny guitar-playing posture. I am convinced that I am a freak of nature, born with abnormally short arms and fingers. As I reach to play the G7 chord, I find myself contorting my left arm into some overexaggerated undercurl in order to come close to playing the chord correctly.

But I am liking it so far. It’s only been a week, and I find myself holed up in my bedroom, practicing my six chords ever so diligently. If only I had the same approach to my many years of playing piano. My life would have been so different. Perhaps I would have gone to the University of the Pacific, majored in music and, by now, travelled the world performing in concert halls. Wearing formal dresses and shit.

Even now, after only three days, I’m already having daydreams of someday playing flamenco guitar on stage, maybe with two or three other guitarists, and a few dancers getting their stomp on. And I’d be all into it too, making those crazy guitar faces, feeling the music. I’d be the only woman flamenco guitarist in the circuit which would be somewhat of a highly marketable novelty, but I'd be respected because of my talent. Stunned audience members would whisper to each other,

"It's amazing - she's only been playing for a year, and she's already that good?"

I’m sure professional, female flamenco guitarists exist already, but this is my fantasy, dammit.

Anyway. I won't lie. Right now, I suck at the guitar. To the max. But I'll get better. Maybe not concert-hall good, but I-won't-be-embarassed-to-play-for-my-friends good.