Every Dance Tells a Story

A few saw the above performance and commented that they felt I was telling a story. Glad my state of narration bleeds though. Some stories are too private. Dance is perfect for those paths where words don’t dare tread. A sentiment can be made of charmeuse wings of a butterfly. To speak its name is to soil it beyond grace. However, I can give you an abstract idea.

This form of flamenco is called solea. Which mean loneliness or aloneness. Big chucks of flamenco is about anger, fiery tempers and forbidden desires. Yet, my interpretation of solea, which is totally my own, is of what happens after the bitterness is gone. Revenge is no longer craved. A dancer is dancing to console herself. The dream of a happy ending has been given up on. And yet inside this act of submission, a victory of a different kind. Dark and light. White and black. Between them a never ending dance. This isn’t despair. This is victory of the finest sort. Relief need not come.

Vocals: Vicente Griego
Guitar: Peter Mole
Palmas: Elvira Yebes & Bethany Murphy

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