I imagine most everyone who has attended an authentic flamenco show has walked away like I did – with my jaw hanging open in amazement.
It is impossible NOT to be considerably stirred and confused by the sounds, movements and emotions one witnesses at a flamenco performance. And it is equally impossible not to want to share what you have seen, heard and felt with others. The question is how to do so.
Even if photography is permitted at a flamenco show, how much of the experience can a photo actually capture? What of flamenco can a series of still images convey?
A still photo fails to communicate the intrinsic elements of flamenco – sound and movement.
But is there any type of recording which can encapsulate those essential elements?
An audio recording could potentially capture the sound of flamenco, but its ability to do so is limited.
Even the highest quality recording would not do the artists justice. The guttural cadences and improvised percussion of flamenco would lose a dimension in translation. Its adamant stomps and lacerating cries would not slice through the air and resonate against the tile walls of the candlelit patio. It would be flat.
Moreover, an audio recording would divulge none of the invigorating visual elements of flamenco: the gleaming wood of the musician’s guitar; the delicate lace on the dancer’s dress; the expressions of agony, passion and rage on the artists’ faces; the dancer’s erotic hand flourishes, high-speed twirls and fervent thrashes … and the hummingbird blur of her hammering feet.
So … that leaves the option of a video recording -- a tried and true tool often used to convey and arouse emotion. But I would argue that even the most artistically rendered flamenco film would be bland compared to the real thing.
While film can communicate some sensory details, when it comes to recreating an entirely sensual experience, film falls short.
A video screen does not capture the play of light across a room -- the way it envelops certain faces in a warm glow, and brushes briefly against others before leaving them to the shadows.
When you watch flamenco on a movie screen, you will not you breathe the cool night air laced with honeysuckle, your eyes will not detect the sparkle of perspiration on the dancer’s face, nor will you feel the temperature rise as her body movements and footwork accelerate.
For me, the question of how to document the performance was rendered irrelevant because recording devices were not permitted. Instead, I jotted down notes throughout the performance in an attempt to capture the scene in words.
But it is not easy to find words which accurately describe the visual, auditory and emotional stimuli one encounters with flamenco.
Unpredictable. Desperate. Angry. Insistent. Fluid. Graceful. Soulful. Sultry.
The juxtaposition of these terms is a decent start …but does not even begin to paint the full picture.
In fact, I am not sure an encounter with flamenco can be recreated through any combination of words, images and sounds. I see it as one of those rare and beautiful creations rendered comprehensible only through personal experience.
It is impossible NOT to be considerably stirred and confused by the sounds, movements and emotions one witnesses at a flamenco performance. And it is equally impossible not to want to share what you have seen, heard and felt with others. The question is how to do so.
Even if photography is permitted at a flamenco show, how much of the experience can a photo actually capture? What of flamenco can a series of still images convey?
A still photo fails to communicate the intrinsic elements of flamenco – sound and movement.
But is there any type of recording which can encapsulate those essential elements?
An audio recording could potentially capture the sound of flamenco, but its ability to do so is limited.
Even the highest quality recording would not do the artists justice. The guttural cadences and improvised percussion of flamenco would lose a dimension in translation. Its adamant stomps and lacerating cries would not slice through the air and resonate against the tile walls of the candlelit patio. It would be flat.
Moreover, an audio recording would divulge none of the invigorating visual elements of flamenco: the gleaming wood of the musician’s guitar; the delicate lace on the dancer’s dress; the expressions of agony, passion and rage on the artists’ faces; the dancer’s erotic hand flourishes, high-speed twirls and fervent thrashes … and the hummingbird blur of her hammering feet.
So … that leaves the option of a video recording -- a tried and true tool often used to convey and arouse emotion. But I would argue that even the most artistically rendered flamenco film would be bland compared to the real thing.
While film can communicate some sensory details, when it comes to recreating an entirely sensual experience, film falls short.
A video screen does not capture the play of light across a room -- the way it envelops certain faces in a warm glow, and brushes briefly against others before leaving them to the shadows.
When you watch flamenco on a movie screen, you will not you breathe the cool night air laced with honeysuckle, your eyes will not detect the sparkle of perspiration on the dancer’s face, nor will you feel the temperature rise as her body movements and footwork accelerate.
For me, the question of how to document the performance was rendered irrelevant because recording devices were not permitted. Instead, I jotted down notes throughout the performance in an attempt to capture the scene in words.
But it is not easy to find words which accurately describe the visual, auditory and emotional stimuli one encounters with flamenco.
Unpredictable. Desperate. Angry. Insistent. Fluid. Graceful. Soulful. Sultry.
The juxtaposition of these terms is a decent start …but does not even begin to paint the full picture.
In fact, I am not sure an encounter with flamenco can be recreated through any combination of words, images and sounds. I see it as one of those rare and beautiful creations rendered comprehensible only through personal experience.
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