So my week in Spain is over and I am back in Boston once again. Madrid was amazing, as I expected it to be. The streets, the food, the scenery, and the people were just as I remembered, which left me feeling surprisingly comfortable in the city I used to call home. Five days of intense tourism gave me plenty of inspiration for this blog. First, I will focus on flamenco, a passionate song and dance that originated in the southern region of Spain known as Andalusia. It has been publicly performed in Spain since the mid 1800s.
My first night in Madrid, I decided to dive right into Spanish cultural history by attending a flamenco show. I went to Casa Patas, which is a small flamenco bar on Calle Canizares (Metro: Anton Martin or Tirso de Molina). Since it was my third time experiencing 'flamenco en vivo', I went into the show thinking I knew exactly what to expect. Boy was I wrong. The third time really was the charm for me because the Casa Patas show left me speechless; it was unlike any show I had seen. I lost myself in the eerily soothing sounds of the flamenco guitar, the resounding screams of the lead singer, and the intensity of the dancers' performance. The combination of song and dance left me oblivious to all that was going on around me.
In my opinion, it is best to watch flamenco in an intimate setting. In a large venue, you can't see the deep concentration on the face of the dancer, the sweat furiously dripping from their brow, or the unyielding passion in their eyes. Luckily, Casa Patas was small enough to make me feel closely connected with the dancers. It was as if I had known the dancers for years and finally they were ready to express their most painful secrets--secrets they were unwilling to publicize verbally so that they chose to express them physically instead.
While at the show, it became obvious to me why flamenco is often associated with sex. The dancers' eyes seemed to stare deeply into space, as if searching for a long lost love. Their bodies moved in unimaginable ways, causing one's mind to wander. The pace of their step was calm and slow at first as they prepared for what was to come. Gradually, they coaxed their feet into a steady rhythm, growing comfortable with the increased movement. Their pace quickened until they reached a grand finale, during which all of their energy and emotion was released. At this point, they violently stomped their feet on the ground, threw their hands in the air, and let out an exasperated scream.
The reason I like flamenco so much? The passion. Genuine passion. Too many people lack the passion I saw in the dancers' eyes that night at Casa Patas. American culture, especially in this digital age, would be substantially enriched if people were less worried about appearing vulnerable and more concerned with publicizing their passions. At the show, it became clear to me that Spanish people possess an inner passion that Bostonians all too often suppress. Boston needs something like flamenco. We need a public expression of our culture (no, the Red Sox don't count...) that encourages us to release our emotions, both individually and collectively.
I cannot describe the emotions flamenco summons; these emotions can only be felt when experiencing the song and dance firsthand. However, the video below might help you better picture what I am describing.
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