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Forever Flamenco

Far from Southern Spain, but in the heart of Hollywood, that once monthly dance staple, “Forever Flamenco,” was alive and well again at the Fountain Theatre, if only for the month of August. Co-founded by Deborah Culver Lawlor and Stephen Sachs in 1990, the Fountain, in addition to being home to a range of new and established plays, was also, because of Lawlor’s passion for the art form, the place to see up-close-and-personal flamenco dance and music.

Performance

Forever Flamenco: Caminos Flamenos by Yaelisa

Place

Fountain Theatre, Los Angeles, California, August 3, 10, 17, 23 25, 2024

Words

Victoria Looseleaf

Yaelisa Caminos Flamencos. Photograph by Moises Navarro Photography

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With Lawlor’s death last year at 83, Los Angeles lost the “Godmother of Flamenco,” and the curatorial force behind the series that featured a host of flamencan stars: Whether local, national or international, these artists kept the flames burning brightly for decades at the 80-seat venue. And, while the fate of the series, which was programmed this month to honor Lawlor, and included such boldfaced names as Maria Bermudez, singer Antonio de Jerez and dancer Timo Nunez, is unknown—Sachs is retiring at the end of 2024—this writer was thrilled to get her much-needed dose of vicarious duende when Yaelisa Caminos Flamencos, and guest singer Felix de Lola, took to the stage on August 23.

Beginning the concert was guitar ace Jason McGuire “el Rubio,” who’s also the husband of the Emmy Award-winning mononymic Yaelisa—and, as a luthier, performed on a guitar he built. Providing rhythmic strummings and bouts of solo flights that were a study in deft fingering, McGuire was a perfect complement to de Lola, whose scorching voice appeared to come from a deep well of angst.

Enter then, Yaelisa, shawl-clad and possessing an earned haughtiness that comes with age (unlike Hollywood, which worships at the altar of youth, flamenco operates in a reverse ageism universe), stalking the small stage in precise steps, a hint of a smile underscoring her love of the art form.

Joining her were dancers Vanessa Albalos and Alexandra Rozo, also wielding shawls, the trio maneuvering them with what appeared to be gale force winds. Each performer deployed short solos before taking seats next to the musicians, with Yaelisa catching her breath, and then introducing the artists, lauding Lawlor and giving a brief history of the series.

We could have been in an Andalusian tablao, sans drinks, however, but with all of the intimacy, fervor and glory that is flamenco in the hands—and feet —of fine artists. After Yaelisa’s heartfelt spiel, de Lola, originally from Seville, took a solo turn, his mournful wailings cutting to the bone. Rhythmically clapping alongside him were Yaelesa and her gal posse, his voice one of equal joy, pain and grit.

From left: Vanessa Albalos, singer Felix de Lola, guitarist Jason McGuire, dancer Alexandra Rozo, Yaelisa (in background). Photograph by Moises Navarro Photography

Rozo, a Southern California favorite, then assayed a propulsive “Alegrias,” offering a firestorm of filigreed fingers and fleet footwork, as well as several whipping turns, her cat-like eyes hinting at some unknown mystery and reminding this reviewer of a portrait come to life, specifically that of Carlotta in Alfred Hitchcock’s “Vertigo.” Rozo’s backward bends seemed to say she was just getting warmed up, a terpsichorean train careening down the tracks, with de Lola’s raspy singing further propelling her until she skittered off the stage.

Mexican-born Albalos is a frequent presence on the flamenco scene. With her zaftig figure amplifying her swiveling, swirling hips, she then owned the space in “Solea por Bulerias,” her serpentine-like hands and grenade-fueled stomping nothing short of mesmerizing. Add to that a round of fearless body-slapping, with flowers flying from her hair and an earring lodging itself in her shawl, and this performer nevertheless radiated majesty.

After a brief intermission, the dancers, now clad in an array of riotously polka dotted sevillanas—think Yoyoi Kusama, the Japanese artist obsessed with that particular circle motif—executed precise unisons, lending the mood an air of jubilance, with McGuire’s crack accompaniment and de Lola’s throaty vocals coursing through the theater.

When Yaelisa, who, in her illustrious career, was the co-founder and artistic director of the highly successful New World Flamenco Festival at the Irvine Barclay Theater (bring that celebration back, por favor!), did her “Solea,” she absolutely ruled. Bathed in purple light, she offered an excursion into arm flourishes and intricate steps, her feet a display of mini-volcanic eruptions as she continued her dance in full-throttle attack mode.

Statuesque, Yaelisa reached heavenward with her arms before assaying a series of quarter turns. Then, rocking back and forth on her heels and drawing a breath, she took a moment to . . . button her vest. Yes, even that small act of buttoning—which she did, with brio, of course—can be regal in flamenco, and Yaelisa proved she still has it all going on. Indeed, from strutting and preening to slow spinning and executing a fusillade of stampings, Yaelisa’s moves were akin to a purring Ferrari engine.

When the other two gals joined her for the “Fin de Fiesta,” which also included rounds of syncopated clapping and a dollop of body quaking, they dazzled with sharp, jabbing footwork, which was punctuated by McGuire’s stellar sounds and de Lola’s piercing laments, the authenticity of the latter’s heart-wrenching vocals reaching a fever pitch.

The drama was high, the art higher, but there was also a feeling of unmitigated pleasure. It’s actually quite remarkable what five humans in a small theater can do. But that is the beauty of art. After all, who needs 21st century technology when we’ve got the earth and fire of first-class flamenco?

Victoria Looseleaf


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