STATE THEATRE, AUSTRALIA

As the worlds first professor of flamenco guitar, Paco Peña knows as much as anybody about the origins and development of flamenco. Happily, though, he doesn’t let scholarship gum up the works of a dazzling live performance.

As he points out, flamenco is a developing form, subject to spontaneous reinvention. The trick is to assemble the right performers for the job. And if there’s anything missing from the repertoire of Peña’s Flamenco Dance Company, it probably doesn’t exist.

The performance builds methodically from Peña playing solo, motionless in the spotlight with his guitar, through passages featuring two and three guitarists to the company’s full complement, including male and female singers, dancers and percussionist. The approach is to contrast a rotating cast of soloists with the insistent but always shifting rhythmic patterns of the ensemble, the latter built from a latticework of crosshatched guitars and Nacho Lopez’s percussion, plus the relentless clatter of syncopated handclaps.

Thus, Fernando Romero, Alicia Marquez and Charo Espino take a spin through Explorando el Fandango while the company’s singers urge them to feats of ever-faster footwork. Cadiz is a solo spot for Marquez, while Sevilla ends the first half in a whirl of Espino’s black-and-white polka-dot frock and the blur of Angel Muñoz’s gyrating heels.

In the middle of all this it could be possible to overlook Peña’s brilliance on guitar, so he wisely helps himself to some eloquent solo passages in the second half. Through he’s a master of the driving blood-on-the-sand drama of flamenco, he also has a fine lyrical touch and a penchant for a kind of baroque impressionism, alongside his knack of producing far more notes than one pair of hands would seem capable of playing.

Then the company comes roaring back, the women suddenly dramatically dressed in red, the men circling them like matadors. In Peña’s band everybody gets a go, like it or not, and the evening ends with a couple of comedy dance routines from the usually static singers and dancers. It’s as if they’re reassuring us that it’s not all lust, vengeance and murder.

The high point of Paco Peña’s newest flamenco production came just before the interval in an exquisitely wrought taranto featuring Fernando Romero dancing to Peña’s guitar accompaniment.

With flawlessly executed turns - a feature used again and again in an choreography unusually low in rapid footwork but high in concentrated gesture - Romero pushed the boundaries of flamenco.

A compact, stocky figure, whose lightness on his feet is a relative rarity in a flamenco context, Romero clearly had the attention of the aficionados who roared their approval of his artistry. Not the least of the pleasures of this offering was the extraordinary level of coordination between dancer and musician, the subtlest gestures in absolute accord with the guitar line.

Earlier, Peña was joined by second guitarist Paco Arriaga in extended guajiras which, like the taranto , was a marvel of synchronisation and expressiveness. A particularly rewarding feature of this was the care lavished of precise intonation, a crucial factor not given it’s due in flamenco presentations.

Certainly, it was an important feature of Peña’s account of fandagos de Huelva , playing with splendidly precise rhythmic underpinning, consistent clarity and tonal colourings.

Another delight was Charo Espino’s castanet playing to Peña’s accompaniments in a set of Lorca-inspired arrangements of traditional folksongs such as Cuatro Muleros with Espino’s use of tiny, high pitched instruments an agreeable contrast to the darker, warmer tones of the guitars lower register.

Of the two female dancers, the youthful Alcia Marquez demonstrated impressive potential. Superbly gowned in red and white, she was the epitome of Andalucian elegance in her exposition of a traditional alegrias, with skilled used of bata de cola, the flamenco tail dress, suggesting that she is a worthy disciple of the legendary Matilda Coral.

Here was a performance which convincingly conveyed the joyousness that is the essence of the alegrias. And there was a good deal of jovial bulerias too, the flamenco equivalent of a jam session from the entire company with guitarists and singers having a tongue-in-cheek stab at dancing.

Throughout, the lighting design was simple and effective and electronic amplification of guitar, voice and footwork was excellent. A particularly lavish bouquet to singer Maria del Mar Fernandez, whose passionately intense account of the martnete/seguiriyas set the pulse racing. It was riveting.

Bravissimo!

NOT MANY instrumentalists lead dance companies but Paco Peña, the celebrated flamenco guitarist is one such. With the support of singers, dancers and two more guitarists he presents an ensemble performance in which the dancing is intimate and companionable, even in a venue the size of the Royal Festival Hall, and there is an emphasis on camaraderie over fierce individualism.

That goes to Peña, too. He has several solos, but the heart of the evening is in the guitar duets and trios, where there is a mellow depth of sound under the sparkling detail. His singers have traditional flamenco voices, raw and wailing, but the tone is one of celebration rather than passionate gypsy grief. The greatest excitement comes from the percussion, with brilliant, clapped cross-rhythms.

Peña’s young dancers can be surprisingly gentle. Angel Muñoz ends his first solo with a drum role of stamps that slows to a soft, quiet close. Alicia Marquez makes most impact through her hands and hips. Gestures are driven by her fluttering fingers and winding wrists, but she keeps her torso simple, bending very little.

Charo Espino is stormier, a matriarch in the making. She fixes the audience with a stern eye, whisking her skirts with an angry flounce, making the most of her powerful upper body.

Into this mix of traditional and modernist flamenco Peña’s choreographer, Fernando Romero, injects a balletic influence. Like Muñoz, Peña’s other male dancer, Romero doesn’t put much emphasis on the torso. He pulls himself up more grandly for a balletic fourth position than for the raised arms and pointing fingers of Flamenco.

Romero also has a balletic eye for floor patterns. In the first of his group dances, he sets the dancers on diagonals, and they move in straight lines, with the unison style of a corps de ballet. These are still flamenco steps but they and diluted by the tidy organisation.

There is more freedom in the second group dance, and it’s exhilarating. The dancers clump together then drift off at will. The pace keeps changing. They raise their arms at once but at different speeds, different positions and phrasing, each dancer responding individually to the music.

There’s a return to traditional flamenco for the last numbers. The dancers step forward one by one, in concentrated bursts of dancing. The performance seems most personal here, with each dancer packing in favourite steps. The musicians lean forward for each new solo relax back with a shout as it finishes.

who performs around the world and even runs his own flamenco academy in his hometown of Córdoba.

Few however would have had more than an inkling of what this cool-headed, seasoned master would serve up in this current tour Flamenco in Concert because by the end it turned out to be way more than the title suggested.

It begins as a solo. Taking his seat on the bentwood kitchen chair, Peña slowly weaves a long, rhapsodic solo improvisation with layers of naily tremolos and running flourishes. In countenance and manner, Peña is similar to John Williams (with whom he sometimes performs); refined, intellectual and utterly at one with his instrument. In sound he is edgier and earthier than Williams, not striving for the latter’s rounded, pearly tone – but it is just the go for flamenco.

No ordinary guitar concert it proves to be. Two fellow guitarists, Rafael Montilla and Paco Arriaga, join him on stage. Both are young guns with a more red-blooded approach who pull out fierce offbeats either side of their seasoned master. The two steadily accelerate the tempo with fiery, ravishing outbursts and progressively fierce strumming.

This combination of discipline and control with the constant undercurrent of passionate emotion has helped to make Pena one of the premiere flamenco guitarists in the world.

Sunday night’s performance by Pena and his company in the world premiere of his new show, “Flamenco in Concert,” made that vividly apparent.

Pena plays with a remarkable palette of colors, from the gentlest of whispers to a robust warmth in the bravura flourishes. He set the tone of the concert’s purely musical sections in the opening “Granaina,” with its sense of intimacy and introspection, an almost-tender improvisational musing layered over the delicate patter of repeated 92nd notes.

When Pena was joined by three other guitarists (the talented Losada brothers Tito, Diego and Vaky), the music became slightly more extroverted, though flash and dazzle was still subservient to purity of form and intention.

The show’s real fireworks came when the two dancers took the stage. Young Angel Munoz trotted out some brilliant footwork. He displayed a phenomenal technical command, spinning out crisp, clearl impeccably controlled volleys of rhythms that he sped up or slowed down with absolute precision. Yet he also had a graceful elegance with flamenco’s subtleties.

His overall presence, from his expressive upper torso to his flirtatious demeanor, was riveting.

In contrast, Espino was all intensity, from the deep arch in her back to the look of almost pained focus on her face. Solid footwork was complemented by luxuriously expressive hands.

The show’s only disappointment was that Pena was so generous in sharing the spotlight, one left wanting more of that singly pure Andalusianvoice – Pena’s flamenco guitar.

The maestro’s deft playing of the Spanish guitar, a sonorous instrument that in his hands seems capable of shedding tears of both joy and despair, was a thrilling spectacle. Pena’s lightning-quick fingers created complexities of sound as fine and as intricate as a lace mantiila. His music, quick and fluid, described the sound of clattering rain on ceramic rooftops. Or, spare and dry, it recalled the arid lands of Andalusia, the birthplace of flamenco.

Pena’s sensational two-hour show features vocalist Angel Gabarre and a formidable trio of guitarists known as the Losada Brothers. But the show owes its irresistible charm to the biggest discovery of the evening, a fiery male dancer named Angel Munoz.

Munoz is a dancing dynamo whose vibrant sex appeal electrifies his body from the top of his curly head to the tips of his black suede boots. Combining balletic grace with the brilliant footwork of flamenco dance, Munoz delivers a bravura performance that balances technical accomplishment with emotional éclat. Partner Charo Espino, a dancer whose twirling skirts accented the torquing sinuosity of her upper body, also accompanied Pena with a sensual performance, using castanets.

A centuries-old tradition rooted in the polyrhythms and chants of the Moors, the jews and the gypsies of Andalusia, flamenco is a complex art form thet is more than fire and temperament. “It is not simply a style of music,” says Pena. “It is a complete way of life, and is the expression of a deep feeling which has to do with happiness, love, sadness, hardship and the struggle for life.”

With Flamenco in Concert, Pena captures the art form’s full expression with captivating music, heart-stopping song and some of the most brilliant Spanish dancing to click across a Toronto stage.

The evening began with a virtuoso guitar piece by Paco Peña consisting of chico flamenco, a type characterized by a multitude of emotions, including deep love, gaiety, sadness, frivolity and tenderness.

Joining Peña on the guitar were master musicians Tito and Vaky Losada who played solo. Then all three joined in a display of amazing contrapuntal and harmonic intricacies making for sounds of untold riches.

Next was an enchanting presentation by Peña playing guitar and dancers Marta Fernandez and Maria Juncal performing with castanets. All were seated throughout the piece. A completely detailed rhythmic and dramatic conversation ensued with especially wonderful use made of facial expressions and body language.

This was followed by Antonio Alcazar, an award-winning dancer, who dazzled

Angel Gabarre then thrilled us with cante flamenco, or singing, which historically was the major part of flamenco development. His vocal color and concern with sharing his emotions were well received by the audience.

This was followed by a rousing and extremely well performed dance by all three dancers.

Adding to the experience were the elegant female costumes and the dancers’ dexterity when “working” their skirts.

The remainder of this outstanding program introduced us to additional types of flawlessly seamed flamenco music, singing and dancing.

It was a profoundly moving evening of excellent entertainment based on artistic purity and skill rather than commercial flash and dazzle.

The ensemble’s harsh singing, rhythmic clapping, flavorful guitar music and defiant dancing communicated the essence of the earthy art form from the Spanish region of Andalusia. Only the annoying overamplification that has become the norm on the museum’s Viva! Festival of Performing Arts detracted from the purity of the performance.

The thrilling concert opened like a solo recital with master guitarist Pena seated alone onstage. Without a footstool or a crossed leg to support his guitar, he pressed the instrument to his heart, the source of the music he played with rich tone and virtuoso technique.

The titles of the pieces were not announced. But the traditional rhythms and harmonies created the intense atmosphere that makes flamenco so exciting. In his first two solos, Pena served notice that something dramatic was about to happen.

When he was joined by guitarists Tito and Vaky Losada, the music got fuller, louder and more percussive. When dancers Marta Fernandez and Maria Juncal came onstage to play castanets, they were the guitarist’s seated partners, speaking to him with seductive rhythms and sensuous arms.

Vocalist Angel Gabarre wailed flamenco laments in a flinty voice that was filled with anguish. Although he expressed the suffering and pain of the Gypsy, he did not mangle his vocal cords as some flamenco singers do. His high tessitura rang out with

Dancer Antonio Alcazar commanded the stage with his staccato heel beats and authoritative presence. When he performed alone, he was as sharp and self-assured as a matador. When he danced with a female partner, the sexual tension was electrifying.

In the first part of the program, the dancers wore black. After intermission, they made several costume changes. Alcazar ripped off his jacket and achieved the seemingly impossible by performing brilliant heel-work with his ankles crossed. Fernandez was a sleek temptress, first in a tight red gown, then in a traditional flamenco dress with a long ruffled tail that she manipulated like a deadly weapon. Juncal, sexy in a white halter dress, picked up her long skirt and beat her heels with the fury of a woman scorned. She also sent erotic messages with her arched back and swaying hips.

Throughout the well-paced evening, the guitarists and singer were the motivating force, maintaining the supercharged aura and setting the scene for each dance. The lighting, too, dramatized the performance with washes of color and deep blackness that gave each artist’s entrance a sense of mystery.

The capacity crowd responded with a spontaneous standing ovation. The performers returned for a short reprise, then made the traditional flamencoexit, singing, dancing and playing with undiminished dynamism as they disappeared into the wings.

Peña is, of course, the pivotal player but by no means the lone star. Having begun the evening with a solo that sounds like a duet for the contrasting weight and mood of the rippling melodic line over the bitingly rhythmic base, he settles in with the Losada brothers – Tito, Diego and Vaky – as one of a guitar ensemble.

The resulting emphasis on the musical content makes this a particularly varied, interesting and sensitive program of flamenco. Marketing can be the only reason it was titled Flamenco Passion, which suggests stereotypical macho thundering about in music and dance. There is passion here, but it is just as likely to be conveyed with elegance and subtlety – descriptions you don’t often connect with commercial flamenco.

This refinement to the essence of flamenco – or rather, one of the many in this multi-character artform – is accentuated by the compact size of the touring ensemble: four guitarists, two dancers and one singer. The viewer is drawn in by the high caliber of the music and dance, the commitment and genuine zest with which they are performed.

Partnering Belén Fernandez, his loose, free-hanging shirt instantly signals that their dance won’t be predictable flamenco, yet he retains such a strong line and technique that his fresh informality is seen only within a framework of that heritage, which works well. Technically the lightness, speed, fluid turns, travelling steps and body-snapping punctuation in his thrilling dynamic range are a joy to watch and admire: the character he brings to them makes his performance even better.

Fernandez projects a forceful presence in her solos, their hold stance and gestures making a good foil for Muñoz’s more sensitive, free-flowing style. Yet with all the strength of her physical impact, she is less convincing emotionally.

Flamenco Passion has many highlights in music and dance, not least of them singer Angel Gabarre in partnership with Paco Peña: the intense, guttural, rolling rawness of the voice set against the relatively cool, detached phrases of the guitar. It’s a vivid contrast subtly delivered, typical of this memorable program.