The historical cycle Lorca and Granada in the Generalife gardens evolves at the same pace as the avant-garde movements of flamenco and the performing arts. Many years have passed since its first edition in 2002, organized by José AntonioIn all of them, the Lorca requirement has been a condition sine qua non so that those designated to magnify his work can base their proposals freely. There have been better, worse, disastrous, and surprising years over more than two decades of creations. This year's work has been by the Granada-born flamenco dancer Manuel Linan. An outstanding debt from the organization to him in which he has completely emptied himself to offer a personal history and vision of Federico Garcia Lorca, the same as always, but told and danced in a new costume. Because there were many Lorcas, and each one of them was different, unusual, poetic, prosaic, and a genius. Liñán's creative ability stands out, from an idea that flies above his head and transforms into art. Art for the senses, but not suitable for those who come to see it through the lenses of classicism, mental stagnation, and prejudice. Because in Liñán It is always appreciated that it is ahead of an archaic and obsolete society.
And it is made clear in Call me Lorca, that keeps the poet alive, kills him, breathes him, expels him, and injects him into those who still deny his history. The work is a set of musical and choreographic pieces that converge into a whole, a multidisciplinary universe, closer to the multiverse-multiversatility than to how we've been told the poet is.
In itself, it is an ode to transgression based on the classics: So five years pass, The public, Yerma, Mariana Pineda, Romance of the moon, moon, the one of the black Sorrow, The three Moorish girls of Jaén, Sevillanas of the 18th century, The three leaves, Café de Chinitas, The Guitar, all of them with music from those old popular songs that the poet recorded on piano with The Argentinita. As a sonorous dressing, The four muleteers, Come on, make a fuss, and the most traditional music of Granada and its folklore-flamenco: the dawn, the fly and the cap.
On stage, the cast of dancers become a thousand Federicos, in black suits, white handkerchiefs in their lapels and vertical and poetic masculinity, very much like Vicente Escudero and his Decalogue of Dance, or white and red, predominant colors throughout the repertoire. Half of the show became a mosaic of group choreographies in which only Liñán appeared at the beginning, setting the pace, directing, and leaving the innovative character of the dance corps on stage without his presence. In the background, an enormous white wall depicted Lorca, his stages, his miseries, his moods, and ultimately, an exceptional visual journey told with millimetrically measured broad brush strokes that adorned each scene: the moon, so present in his work, its saddened eye, looking from that panel to the stage, watching. An ephemeral work of art that will appear and disappear every day at will.
"The culmination came with joy. Liñán was able to fill the enormous Generalife stage with a white train and red shawl, while Antonio Campos sang of modernity, of transgression, of the present and future of Lorca, who left us with his legacy that diversity in art is a transformative necessity for ancient and past societies. From here to the poetic heaven of Lorca."
August 1, 2025. Photo: Antonio Conde
The musical protagonism was provided by a cast entirely from Granada, except for the guitarist and musician Robi Svärd. Led by experience and know-how Antonio Campos, who sang and told the poet stories with his powerful and confident voice. They accompanied him in their voices Fita Heredia y Marian Fernández, both leaning on each other. The musical wonder came from the hand of the great Jose Fermin Fernandez, who with his hands and his genius knew how to give an extra touch of majesty to the show. What remains in memory is the granaína he played, a personal creation, with nods to bulería, to the classics, to his homeland, but traveling a century ahead: a true masterpiece. So too was Svärd's surprising way of playing on electric guitar the most typical and well-known falsetas of Granada's tangos, those inherited from The Sheep which are the hallmark of the land, to which Liñán danced on a major scale of originality. Without being left behind, the seal of Michael the Cheyenne He contributed the need for a rhythmic and percussive marking with cajón and drums, managing and directing the stage tension with his hands.
There were, on the other hand, several guest artists. The first of them, Raquel Heredia La Repompa, with a tangible expressive force on stage, without abusing eccentricities but with a fierce forcefulness. We were also able to hear falete, by arrow, which began with the verse of the poem of Guitar which derived into tonás. We also hear it at the end of the work in fandangos, those of El Caracol and the Gloria and a series from Huelva, with persistent off-key notes, giving the opportunity to Liñán, who danced them with overwhelming personality. The third guest artist was undoubtedly the best choice, the most Lorca-esque of all, the great figure from Granada: Curro Albaicín. Adorned in a white suit, replete with ornaments resembling white roses, he recited the universal poet's poems, embodied him, magnified his personality, and knew how to go beyond the imaginable. Curro, the Great Curro, at times became the most sensitive and poetic Lorca ever. He also had lyrics of his own making, perfect for placing on the altar of Federico.
The dancers' dance scenes were on par with the work: José Maldonado (in a pas de deux with grandiloquent Liñán), Irene Morales, Raquel Heredia, Irene Rueda, Susana Sánchez, Rocío Montoya, Cristina Soler, Cristina Aguilera y Anabel Moreno They represented the most feminine and masculine sides of the poet with flowing red and white outfits, or stripped of unnecessary draperies in scenes where the poet's modernity had to be present: away with prejudices and complex epidermal complexes. Also noteworthy in the pas de deux between Maldonado and Liñán is how they fused in love and heartbreak, mimicking the poet's sexual life and his feelings toward the unknown and toward his peers. The work ended, as I mentioned, with some fandangos by Falete, with a body structure resembling a giant can-can to which Liñán danced without hesitation.
But the climax came with joy. Liñán was able to fill the enormous Generalife stage with a white train and red shawl, while Antonio Campos sang of modernity, of transgression, of the present and future of Lorca, who left us with his legacy that diversity in art is a transformative necessity for ancient and past societies. From here to the poetic heaven of Lorca.
Credits
Call me Lorca, by Manuel Liñán
Lorca and Granada Cycle in the Generalife Gardens
Granada, August 1, 2025
Direction, choreography and dance: Manuel Liñán
Special collaborations: Curro Albaicín, Falete
Guest artists: Raquel Heredia La Repompa, José Maldonado
Guitar: José Fermín Fernández and Robi Svärd
Percussion: Miguel el Cheyenne
Dance troupe: Irene Morales, Raquel Heredia, Irene Rueda, Susana Sánchez, Rocío Montoya, Cristina Soler, Cristina Aguilera and Anabel Moreno
Cante: Antonio Campos, Fita Heredia, Marian Fernández
August 1, 2025. Photo: Antonio Conde
