Although Spain is generally considered a good-humored country, humor doesn't enjoy much prestige. Not as much, at least, as sadness, which always seems a more respectable emotion. However, the best of our country's culture has a strong comedic component, from the most popular novels to the Quijote...even the films of Berlanga and Azcona, to name a few. Although there are gentlemen—it's almost always gentlemen—who take it too seriously, the flamenco It has also had, since time immemorial, an important element of humor, perfectly compatible with those dark sorrows that would be the other side of the same moon.
Magnificat, the new show of Maria MorenoIt's not exactly comedic, although you watch it with a smile from beginning to end. And the first one to smile, we can tell you now, is the flamenco dancer from Cádiz herself, who between dances parodies herself by opening her arms and shouting "¡eh!" to receive applause (a gesture that, incidentally, as incredible as it may seem, other flamenco dancers do seriously).
Amidst piles of plastic chairs and hanging garlands, the stage resembles the remnants of any old village fair. It is here that Moreno will offer his own interpretation of the myth of the Visitation, the biblical encounter between the Virgin Mary and Elizabeth, both cousins and pregnant. But it will be neither a devout nor an irreverent interpretation, but quite the opposite: in the same way that the Andalusian people—and practically all the Mediterranean people, brothers and sisters on the same shore—blend the sacred and the profane, this Magnificat It reflects those celebrations that take place in our land without interruption: from carnival to penitential week, from there to the fair... And back again.
"Few works reflect us as a society like this one by María Moreno. That's why, when she holds up that mirror to us, we can't help but rejoice, both in its portraiture and its caricature. And spend an hour or so safe from the noise of the world, taking a good spoonful of that medicine for the soul we call..." flamencoand thinking how beautiful it is to live."
Although I was able to see this montage in the past Nîmes FestivalAt the Villamarta Theatre, with its smaller stage and more intimate seating, I was able to appreciate many details that had escaped me the first time. For example, the deliberately fragmented format of the numbers, where not everything has to begin or end in a canonical way; their seemingly improvised feel, as these popular expressions were long before they were framed within a theatrical setting; or their comprehensive catalog of paloswhat are they going From alegrías to seguiriya, from villancicos to sevillanas, the soleá of Cádiz or Pepe Pinto's proclamation.
Then, of course, there are those scenes destined to remain in the audience's memory, such as the juggling with the shawl amplified by the silence, the duel of palmas to Robert Jaen –speed, Bach already knew that and Moreno knows it well, it can also be a form of humor–, the procession with pruned flowers, the electric guitar of Raul Cantizano paying implicit tribute to Andalusian rock… And of course, the hilarious performance of the performer pink rosemarywhich has the virtue of completely decompressing the spectacle, taking it to another place. A simple, prosaic, and even somewhat grotesque place, as we can sometimes be, in any case far from the constant epic to which dance often appeals.
Few works, indeed, reflect us as a society as well as this one by María Moreno. That's why, when she holds up this mirror to us, we can't help but rejoice, both in its portraiture and its caricature. Or, at the very least, spend an hour or so safe from the noise of the world, taking a good spoonful of that medicine for the soul we call flamencoand thinking how beautiful it is to live.
Credits
Magnificat, from the María Moreno Company
XXX Jerez Festival
Villamarta Theatre in Jerez
March 5th 2026
Dance: Maria Moreno
Performer: Rosa Romero
Performance: Rosa Romero
Guitar: Raúl Cantizano
CanteMiguel Lavi
Percussion and palmasRoberto Jaén
