From November 15th to 23rd, the Malaga native Rocio Molina The ticket offices of the Matadero Dance Center from Madrid. A sold out The resounding acclaim was further solidified by the media frenzy surrounding the piece's premiere. Cultural figures paid homage to the dancer's challenging work. I say challenging because Rocío Molina's proposals are not usually characterized by complacency, and this Heating it was not going to be less.
As the audience entered the room, they saw Rocío on a stage with a floor-level platform, dressed in a tracksuit, barefoot with socks, doing stretches, push-ups and other generic exercises prior to a demanding job.
The dancer looked at the audience, observed her entrance, how she positioned herself, at the same time she appeared focused, seeking dedicated attention.
Once Rocio had put on her professional shoes, she began to show us what a flamenco dancer's warm-up is like, with her duchesseshis quirks and his knowledge. "I'm going to do what's known in the flamenco "Like a plank of wood," she said. Thirty-five minutes of nonstop tapping her heels, not twenty-five, not thirty. Thirty-five minutes! An exercise I've been doing since I was seven. In twelve-beat time, like alegrías, soleás por bulerías, or slow bulerías, at one hundred and fifty bpm." She encouraged herself, giving herself instructions: "Slowly! Keep the tapping! Give yourself some space, Rocío! Change it up!" The prodigious met the prosaic, ways of understanding her body, an exercise in pure technique. The emotion lay in the dialogue she maintained with her body, a body that was growing weary, aching. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them, soaking his t-shirt, and flooding the floor, which made his heel strikes less accurate—realities that plague the daily life of a body dedicated to dance, to dance made flesh.
Rocío Molina took up the mantle of the dance-conferences, of that act of bringing the voice to where it is not usually heard. A flamenco dancer who walks and speaks. Reminding us of The language of lines, from the beginning of the last century, from Antonia Mercé 'The Argentine'or to the current conferences of Leonor Leal. This gesture allows us the opportunity to approach the more personal universe of a flamenco dancer, to move away from passive, sometimes voyeuristic observation, and place ourselves in a more human, closer, more intimate relationship with the dancing body.
"Despite all the tests he throws at us – singing to a chair, dancing around it, rolling around on the floor, playing the drums, dancing to a rave beat, talking and rehearsing – he maintains the pure spirit flamenco. Flamenco in terms of attitude, in terms of standing with courage, with grace, with poise"
Rocío jokes, revealing the loop she's trapped in and that she places us in: "Before starting the warm-up, I'll do a pre-warm-up to get my body ready before we begin." A game with her own life force, the fear of starting for fear of finishing. Rocío doesn't want to finish; she even mentions what her doctor tells her: "Don't stop, or you might not be able to start again." Here, in the work with the text, we see the direction and relationship with the Argentinian. Paul Messiezwhere one perceives their ability to combine their disciplines and dedicate themselves to the piece, making things work, starting from premises as simple as they are human: work, observation, and listening. The work of Markings in the lighting, bringing sensuality and rage, and of Elche Niño in the musical selection, expanding the places of encounter with the work.
A two-hour performance. A performance in which Rocío leaves the audience adrift in her creation. Offering it to us with naturalness, the artifice is delicately placed. This naturalness translates into admiration for an artist who explores art from her inner desires, from her possibilities, open to experimentation, to trial and error, to wonder, drawn to a world waiting to be discovered.
The woman from Malaga puts the body at the center, the body in dispute, the body in constant service of dance, of flamencoA body that doesn't shut down, that doesn't want to shut down, that keeps on making noise. A body pushed to its limits. "Once the pain arrives, that's when I can start to dance, that's when I absorb the blows," she said. This reminds me of the book Sacrifice as a poetic act de Angelica Lidell, where the Catalan woman states: "What the external violence of the sacrifice revealed was the internal violence of the being (...). Sacrifice is excess, beautiful excess, liberating excess."
Molina offers the possibility of letting go. He is subtle with emotion. He abandons his genius at times. flamenco And he gives it when it's meant to be, and when it's meant to be, he makes himself known, he lights up, his eyes shine, and we smile because of his passion, because of his heart. flamencoAnd despite all the evidence he throws at him – singing to a chair, dancing around it, rolling around on the floor, playing the drums, dancing to a rave beat, talking and rehearsing – he maintains what for me is pure spirit flamenco. Flamenco in terms of attitude, in terms of standing up with courage, with grace, with jechura, The rooted body, the body that feels, with a predisposition for celebration. A celebration that, as the flamencoIt's like life, with its sorrows and joys, but always celebrating.
The team on stage represents a final part of the piece, where they appear radically, contributing forms that dialogue from within with the flamenco. OrucoThe Sevillian flamenco dancer helps Rocío up from the floor: "Look at you, Rocío, my dear, what a mess you're making, sit down properly, come on." He helps her center herself and guides her toward the rehearsal. They maintain a powerful physical dialogue, moments of joy, fun, and depth. Two bodies speaking the same language, two bodies in tune with the rhythm. They sit face to face, very close. Delicate gestures break the silence with bulería rhythms. And here, one smiles at the powerful onslaught of art. flamencoBecause of the capacity for unity, familiarity, empathy, drive, playfulness, and enjoyment. And as I was saying José Bergamín, “In the game, each participant enhances the pleasures of the other.” This also happened with the group of flamenco singers, four feminized bodies—not representing what is understood as the normative body of the flamenco woman—positioned inside what appeared to be a mirror. From that interior, from that kind of gallery, they sang, experimented, and rehearsed. cantes without guitar. To the cantes followed him palmas in time so that Rocío could dance comfortably. Remembering Maria Pagesreminding us of Carmen amayaAnd again, explosions of passion, and again hard work and dedication in a group that felt passionate and enjoyed themselves. Dedication and love, the ultimate proof of a deep respect for the flamencoAn art form always in motion, which, when inhabited by bodies, offers the possibility of a continuous exploration of its limits, of its forms. With the volatility of flesh, a body, Rocío's, that knows itself, but that still lives with doubt: it asks itself, it questions itself, it lives.
Credits
Heating, by Rocio Molina
Matadero Dance Center, Madrid
Dance: Rocío Molina
On stage: Ana Polanco, Ana Salazar, María del Tango, Gara Hernández, José Manuel Ramos Oruco
Direction and choreography: Rocío Molina
Musical direction: Niño de Elche
Capacity: Full
Text: Manuel Cid Fernández
