It was the first time the Romani flag had graced the backdrop of the stage in the 51-year history of the festival. Peña Flamenca Torres Macarena From Seville. Tied at two corners with shoelaces, she painted the blue of the sky above and the green meadow below. The red wheel of a cart in the center and raw emotion on full display. One had to tip one's hat to the speech of a brave woman with three dozen ovaries who stood up to reclaim her heritage and defend Gypsy identity, far beyond what surrounds the flamencoSix hundredweight of daring, one for every hundred years his people have lived here. And one more basketful, for what we've been doing in this one. With knowledge, boldness, all the age and courage in the world, he held court in five minutes that tasted like fennel stew. Pastora Filigree marked a milestone in the history of this sun-drenched peñaAnd he told it like no one else. With his left hand to his lips, he brought the audience to their feet. What comes from the heart in torrents, reaches the boiling heart. Then he introduced the painting, and it was all delightful. Bravo, cousin! Even though I'm a bit of a fool.
The idea came from The hubbub, who whistled at the peña Asking for their boards to celebrate this special day. They were missing those fritters. Maybe next time. And Jose Antonio Troya, which presides over the temple of flamenco The man from Seville opened the shutters wide, telling him, "All this is yours."
The grandson of farruco He is not deaf. And he let himself be accompanied by the honeys and the apricots of Manuel de Gines y John of the Maria, who carried him on their shoulders from the moment he left the dressing room. Ramon Amador He extended his strings so that he could tread upon his gypsy music, marking on the staff the commandments of the macho dance of the FernandezOh, if only his Pillar You should have seen it! Because he danced to yell at her. Barullo came with his love and the kids. I'll tell you later. But he climbed onto the wooden beams and gave orders.
"Her presence alone was worth the price of admission. And her soleá was heartbreaking, painting the poses born of experience. Here she truly shone. The footwork was sharp. Her shoulders moved with authority. She stopped time, pointing to the dark paths where silences weigh heavily. The Barullo danced for her." cante "Now the guitar. And the history of his people, what runs through his veins."
First Ramón played alone, to lull us into a dream of tremolos and alzapúas, tuning his bass guitar to a tone of deep emotion. He swayed the caramelized melismas of his Adam's apple to the tientos of Manuel de Gines' tangos, caressing the cadences and remembering Pastora y Joan of the StirThey continued with alegrías, and María's sweet beginning with those from Córdoba, vying with her partner for the salt, until the bulerías of Cádiz. Death called to Juan in the seguiriya, skinning himself raw in the surrender, changing the twists and turns of the cante by a half step more. It crackled nicely on the change of Juanichí The Handler And the audience gave him a standing ovation. At seven, Amador played masterfully, accompanying the soleá por bulería, his voice dripping with sensitivity and flamenco spirit from his fingertips all night long, brimming with passion. And at the end of the show, El Barullo's wife and children joined him, demonstrating the artistry of this Gypsy family that perpetuates the traditions of an unparalleled lineage. They all deserved to be carried out on their shoulders.
And how El Barullo danced, ladies and gentlemen!
He shone in the alegrías without fanfare or pretense. He imbued his dance with elegance—strong, pure, and timeless, yet sprinkled with freshness. His style was highly personal, possessing the bearing of his grandfather, but he was not a copy. He was the closest in appearance, exuding and resonating with him. Impetuous, but not unrestrained, powerful and manly, knowing when to retreat without slipping or contrived displays, he danced with integrity, without nonsense or ostentatious, dizzying percussion. Although he demonstrated impeccable footwork, his arm movements were rounded in the graceful passages and tense in the closing sections. He knew how to move his jacket, stop, stroll, and flirt with the rhythm of the alegrías as he pleased, without losing control or letting his hat move.
Her presence alone was worth the price of admission. And her soleá was heartbreaking, painting the poses born of experience. Here she truly shone. The footwork was sharp. Her shoulders moved with authority. She stopped time, pointing to the dark paths where silences weigh heavily. She danced for the cante The guitar. And the history of his people, what runs through his veins. And when he wanted to leave the police, he slowed down a million-carat harvest that exploded, uprooting the oles. This gypsy is different and knows how to scrape in his little feet and flames the mysteries that stir your guts. The bulería was already the absurdity to tattoo on the retina of the good aficionados the gypsy spirit of El Barullo.
Open Rome!
Credits
Dance recital by El Barullo
International Day of the Gypsy People
Peña Flamenca Torres Macarena of Sevilla
April 8th 2026
Dance: The Uproar
CanteManuel de Gines and Juan de la María
Guitar: Ramon Amador
