Flamenco Festival USA.

George Washington University Lisner Auditorium Washington, D.C. January 28-February 7, 2003 Reviewed by Paula Durbin

For three years the Flamenco Festival USA showcases, assembled by Miguel Marin, have brought U.S. aficionados the artistry and eclectic styles of flamenco's divas and icons. This year's festival opened with the twenty-three-member Ballet Flamenco Sara Baras in Mariana Pineda, a fresh portrayal of the nineteenth-century Andalucian activist who was arrested for her political beliefs and chose death rather than betray her comrades. Famously celebrated by Federico Garcia Lorca, whose play this ballet loosely follows, Pineda boasts the warmth of tiny, strong-featured Sara Baras. Guitarist Manolo Sanlucar composed the radiant score, played by an orchestra suspended over the set.

Sanlucar's lyrical cadences owe more to Andalucian than to gypsy tradition, and the choreography was suitably adapted. ITS FOOTWORK WAS USED SPARINGLY; IT RELIED MORE ON FLAMENCO'S ELOQUENT POSTURE, ITS RANGE OF UPPER BODY, ARM, AND HAND TECHNIQUE, THE PIQUANCY OF AN OCCASIONAL FAN, THE SILKEN DRAMA OF BIAS-CUT SKIRTS AND A FUCHSIA SHAWL. The narrative flows from the prisoner's confinement to a convent guarded by nuns and soldiers. In sometimes overlapping flashback scenes, Baras (and occasionally a double from the corps) played Pineda as she dealt with the men in her life: her young lover, Fernando (Miguel Canas); Don Pedro de Sotomayor, the rebel soul mate she protected (the excellent Jose Serrano); and her inquisitor, Pedrosa (Luis Ortega). In the death scene, Baras, bound to a grille, let loose with stunning, a cappella footwork, a poignant and powerful finale to a lush, swirling spectacle.

Por Derecho, the festival's second offering, was an uninterrupted display of flamenco percussion. Juana Amaya and Farruquito, headlining a cast of twelve, had promised a concert faithful to their gypsy heritage, with no plot, minimal staging, and traditional guitar accompaniment. The show coasted on sheer mastery of compas, the rhythmic measure that defines all flamenco, and on the charisma of the artists probing the art's dark and light moods.

Farruquito was in fine form after a two-year hiatus to mourn his late father, singer El Moreno. The lanky 20-year-old dancer, grandson of the paunchy, bandy-legged flamenco legend Farruco, generated even more excitement, with elastic moves and state-of-the-art footwork, than the old man had. The dazzle didn't detract from his late grandfather's legacy; it was tempered with great elegance and a gravity that served flamenco's darker side well. Farruquito's 14-year-old brother, Farruco, explored a lighter genre with his devilish take on the extroverted, Cuban-flavored guajiras. Resplendent in a tropical blue suit, he left the languid phrases to the singers and turned the rest into a bulerias, an entirely different genre whose very name implies a joke. Then, straight-faced, he waved to the audience, tossed his long hair, and walked off--a schoolboy's getaway.

These two firebrands, with the other men onstage, made for a testosterone-charged program, but Amaya easily held her own. Her style is not conventionally feminine--except perhaps for her supple hands--and she seems to prefer her art's athletic extremes. Challenged by the young masters schooled in flamenco's most macho tradition, Amaya erupted with equal fury and matched their ferocious footwork beat for beat. When the multiple musicians joined the trio's second-act crescendo, the effect was electrifying.

So was Manuel Soler's a cappella showcase of footwork, finger-snaps, clapping, and percussive cajon accompaniment. The solo was missing from the program, which buried Soler's name among the other musicians'. But the acclaimed dancer-turned-percussionist virtuoso didn't seem to mind the slight, and played as if he were having the time of his life.