Julius ruiz (Almería, 1993) works from the wound, between light and darkness, between comedy and tragedy. This dancer and choreographer, about to premiere his new work, The, in the first biennial of Flamenco Madrid -3 June at the Condeduque Contemporary Culture Center–, has become the first artist flamenco in obtaining the prestigious scholarship Center National de la Danse de Paris, an experience that has deeply marked his new creation.
Family It is a piece that integrates writing, dance, performance y flamenco to explore family dynamics through three key women in his life: his mother, his grandmother, and his aunt. "I never understood the relationship between them. As a child, I saw that it wasn't like other families had," the artist confesses a few days before the premiere, days that are lived with emotion but also with the vertigo of exposing the work to the public, who find in this work a way to shatter inherited patterns and construct their own definition of family.
Trained at the Andalusian Dance Center and graduated in Professional Dance Teaching Flamenco, Ruiz combines his signature creations with his daily work in the country's most important tablaos. His work is characterized by its writing, a discipline he has cultivated alongside dance, and by a brutal honesty that does not shy away from controversy. In this conversation with expoflamenco, the creator reflects on his artistic process, the Parisian experience that has transformed his outlook, and the premiere of a work that promises to shake consciences.
What is Family and why was it necessary to tell this story?
Family It's a story in which I talk and reflect on family and family dynamics, but I focus on the three women in my family: my mother, my grandmother, and my aunt. It's ostensibly a love letter to each of us, but since love is so open and we each understand it in our own way, I understand it as telling each of us what I like about them and what I don't, what legacy they leave in our family, what I'll take away from them and what I won't. My intention was to understand the dynamics of my family, and also to blow it up, to say, "Okay, let's end all this and start over." Now, with everything I have left and everything I don't have left, I will decide what family means to me.
This level of personal exposure is very risky. How did you manage working on something so personal?
It almost always happens to me with all my projects: I try to be as vulnerable as possible, because that's how I understand art and how I understand I can connect with whoever's sitting there. When I embark on a process, I'm usually guided by what I need to say at that moment and how I make the other person ask themselves at least a similar question. The question I ask myself here is who my family is, who are these people I share every Christmas Eve, people I haven't chosen. It's true that it has its moments of difficulty, especially now, just before the premiere, which is the most sensitive time for projects. But since this project began almost two years ago, many of the questions I asked myself have been answered. But I approach it from a fictional perspective, which is why it's a short story, and I've been in close contact with my mother to choose the boundaries of the exposition. It's also true that my family is very artistic and constantly hovers between comedy and tragedy, which is a very Andalusian thing.
"I am a dancer who writes, a dancer who if I am at the tablao I put on my polka dot shirts because they drive me crazy, and then I create. I don't do flamenco contemporary nor flamenco I don't know what. I'm a dancer, period. Anything I want can fit in there.
Why did you choose to focus on women after exploring masculinity in Touching a manHow do the two works relate?
I think the relationship they have is just going to the other extreme, with the male figure taking a backseat. Women have shaped everything in this family. We're all men, I don't have any female cousins, and the only women are my mother, my aunt, and my grandmother. They've shaped everything. I think they make up 50 percent of who we are, and I'm noticing it more and more. As much as I don't want to see love the way they do, or death the way they do, of course I do. I was very eroticized by the idea of me disappearing and them appearing on the scene.
Your work is based on writing, something unusual in the flamencoHow does the word relate to movement in your creative process?
Since almost everything I share stems from a very specific wound, it helps me tremendously to put it into words and then I speak in motion. One thing happens to me when I write: I feel even freer than with dance because I'm under no pressure. Since I'm not a writer, this feeling of being an imposter doesn't matter to me; I taint myself with so much freedom. I write because I want to, because I'm free, and because it makes me see everything more clearly.
There are some important names on the team. Why are they there? How did you choose them for this project?
The main one is Ernesto Artillo, with whom I've been collaborating since 2020. He accompanies me on direction and dramaturgy. I think we make a wonderful team; we understand each other very well and have complementary visions of art. He clarifies a lot for me and brings many ideas down to earth. There's also Macarena Regueiro, who is a wonderful actress who is accompanying me throughout the process. And on stage will be David de Ana, who is a guitarist from Malaga who I say is 12 years old because I can't believe how young he is, and Pepe de Pura as well. canteI really liked the fact that three completely different generations were together, none of us knowing each other at all. It's the first time I've felt like I was in the middle, because I've always felt like the youngest, and now there's someone younger than me. It's very interesting to listen to David; it's especially special to share our visions of life.
"When we performed 'Tocar un hombre,' we uploaded a sevillana to social media that went viral, and we received a lot of insults. (…) The most positive thing is that Manuel Liñán, who has a voice, is doing these kinds of things, and that after a few days of being affected by the attacks, he doesn't stop or cease performing his plays, and that the theaters remain full."
The wardrobe plays an important role, right?
I don't want to reveal too much because it's the main surprise we're saving for the premiere, but it does have one. It's designed by Ernesto Artillo and made by Carlota Caro. I've always placed importance on the look, but it's true that the wardrobe is a pretty big deal.
Without giving too much away, we sense that skirts will be a focus, and we can't help but ask you about the recent online attacks against Manuel Liñán for dancing in a bata de cola. How do you deal with these types of situations? How do these attacks affect you, if at all?
The only thing that affects me is that Manuel had a bad time. That's what I find horrible. When we did Touch a man We uploaded a sevillana to social media that went viral, and we got insulted a lot. They called us terrible names. The thing is, I don't think it changes me; on the contrary: this challenges me, because I'll have more skirts. The most positive thing is that Manuel, who has a voice, is making these kinds of things present, and that after a few days of being affected by the attacks, he doesn't stop or cease his work, and that the theaters remain full. For the children who come after him to say, "No, no, we're continuing, we don't have to stop putting on our gowns, we don't have to stop." Art should make people uncomfortable; it should make them question their reality.
The residence in Paris has been fundamental for The family. What has it brought you?
It's been a dream come true for any choreographer, but especially for any Spanish choreographer, because suddenly, it was three months of living dance without precarious conditions. It was like, "It's possible, how can it be?" I lived in the International City of Arts, a residential complex with 300 artists from all over the world. Sharing time with them has been a true dream. The first thing they told me when I arrived was "You don't owe us anything." You obviously create from a different place. You can't only create from pleasure and absolute tranquility.
How do you see the differences between the French and Spanish cultural landscapes?
I was incredibly surprised when, on a Tuesday, I went to a theater on the outskirts of Paris to see an artist who wasn't a big name, and suddenly the theater was packed. Because there's cultural education. Here, it's unthinkable. The cheapest ticket I've ever spent was 50 euros, and despite this, the theaters are always packed. Besides, in Paris, all artists, from technicians to dancers, have the support of intermittence, because it's understood that an artist doesn't have the same continuity as any ordinary job, and that gives you a security that makes you approach creation differently.
"I think 50 percent of who we are is them. As much as I don't want to see love the way they see it, or death the way they see it, of course I do. I was very eroticized by the idea of me disappearing and them appearing on the scene."
What do you think is your place in dance? flamenco current?
I fit in wherever the programmer wants me to fit in. That's our reality. If I had to define myself, I'd say that above all, I'm a dancer. What I want is for the word "dancer" to fit everything I want. I'm a dancer who writes, a dancer who, if I'm at the tablao, I wear my polka-dotted shirts because they drive me crazy, and then I create. I don't do flamenco contemporary nor flamenco I don't know what. I'm a dancer, period, and everything I want to fit in there can fit.
After the premiere at the Biennial, what are your plans?
Family It has three legs: the stage project, which premieres in Madrid and will tour around stages, a film documentary called Film Diary My greatest reference is Jonas Mekas—and a written document, an artist's book. It's the first time I've dared to do so, but as I tell my friends, "This book is for you." I've been writing for many years, and having a written and printed document of everything I've written about my projects is incredibly exciting.
What is your definition of success in this profession?
My happiness and success come from feeling like I'm supporting myself and doing what I want with my projects. I don't feel like leaps or hits. I feel like an ant: everything little by little and with a lot of work. Sowing, sowing, sowing, and then reaping. I feel like I'm in a place that makes me very happy. I feel like I'm fulfilling Julio's childhood dream, and that's what I'm doing. ♦
