I think of Sadlers Wells of being quite a genteel place.  Anything which gets audience members whooping while applauding as though they were at a Boyzone concert has to be pretty special.  Paco Pena, the world-renowned flamenco guitarist, and his flamenco dance company are just that.  I’m not a fan of reviewers who spout adjectives like ‘breathtaking’, ‘spellbinding’ and ‘sensational’ as though they’d swallowed the theatrical cliché thesarus but when you see a show which attains this level of excellence it is difficult to avoid them.  Both Pena’s guitar solos and the passionate performances of the dancers were simply exhilarating to watch.  Pena’s nimble fingers dance up and down the fretboard with expert precision making his solo sections just as engaging as those of the dancers.

The show begins with a stage which is empty apart from a few chairs.  Four silhouettes appear and then the unmistakable lone cry of the flamenco singer, reminiscent of the Muslim call to prayer, echoes throughout the theatre.  Paco Pena’s show includes all the elements that you would expect from a great evening of flamenco:  women swishing their skirts

Flamenco encompasses so much. Music, dance, costumes, atmosphere. It's one hell of a seductive package. Which probably explain why Paco Pena's shows do so well, both in London , and around the world.

A Compas! To The Rhythm returns to Sadler's Wells after a hugely popular run at the Peacock Theatre last year. The show explores flamenco in all its incarnations, and provides insight into this rich musical form in a far more cohesive fashion than cultural collages like the recent Havana Rakatan did with the music of Cuba .

This sense of purpose is down to Pena's superb playing. The celebrated guitarist, and his fellow musicians and vocalists, sit on stools at the back of the stage, allowing the dance elements of the show to be fore-grounded. This is a successful set-up, allowing the audience to better appreciate some truly beautiful dancing. Flamenco done well, as it is here, is exciting, electric stuff, all sensual writhing and snaking arms, accompanied by some incredibly intricate footwork.

There were three dancers in all, each with a distinctive style and manner. The two male dancers had both appeared in the show's previous London run, but the female dancer, the enviably graceful Charo Espino, had not; though this distinction hardly mattered – they were all superb in their way, hypnotic to watch, whether dueting or performing solo.

It’s easy, when confronted with one souped-up, watered-down spectacle after another, to despair of ever seeing good-quality flamenco on a concert stage. All the steam machines, lurid lighting and thematic programming in the world can’t make up for the absence of honesty and heat.

But just when you decide the form is too temperamental, too particular to survive in the theater, a troupe like the Paco Peña Flamenco Dance Company comes along as a reminder that great art can make a home for itself anywhere.

Town Hall, which played host to the troupe in “A Compás!” (“Into the Rhythm”) on Friday night, is far from ideal for watching a footwork-heavy form like flamenco. But the annoyance of poor sight lines was the only barrier to experiencing the range and depth of artistry on display, from Mr. Peña’s quiet but fierce leadership at the guitar to the regal, smoldering dancing of Ángel Muñoz, one of the more magnificent performers I’ve seen in recent memory. The clarity and complexity of his rhythms dazzled, but what truly astounded were his sense of pacing, his presence, and his ability to communicate through the simplest gesture. With a raised, curving palm or a sharply angled lunge, Mr. Muñoz told the audience everything it needed to know.

What comes to mind when you think of the word “tradition”? I always picture barrel-chested Tevye, who proudly proclaimed to the skies in Fiddler on the Roof, “TRADITION!!!.” There was most definitely a beautiful display of flamenco tradition on stage that night. World-Class Master Flamenco Guitarist Paco Peña started off with an elegant Petenera, one of many palos which he performed that are not part of the usual theatre fare.

At another instance in the show, guitarists Paco Arriaga & Rafael Montilla’s skillful fingering complemented his playing, each adapting harmonies-- one higher, one lower, all melting into the sound of one guitar. There is a statesman-like quality to Sr. Peña’s playing, clothed in his humble willingness to be the guitar that accompanied the other members of the company as they danced. I could not believe how much stage time he allotted to all his performers, this was a TROUPE in the very noblest sense of the word. Paco has enough confidence in the quality of his own person “product” that he understands that audiences will evaluate his mastery without the need to “hog” the stage as others have in the past. Each and every number had a connection to the one before it, and highlighted the skills of the dancers, guitarists and singers in a truly even-handed way.

Now for my favorite part of the show – sorry but I am rather prejudiced when it comes to Ángel Muñoz & Charo Espino, who are husband and wife. They executed an achingly exquisite Flamenco “pas de deux”, to the point that I felt as if I was peeking into an intimate moment between lovers. You could tell this was much more than a working gig for this pair – it was an expression of their deep love and regard for one another as dancers and as life partners. Angel’s hands caressed the air around the curves of Charo’s body, an unseen string connected his hands to her hips, her deep backbend and outstretched arms signaling her submission. Separately, they are masterful performers. Together, they produce an intense, slow burn that FEW contemporary performers either seek to perform or if attempting to perform, can achieve...

I was absolutely sucker-punched by his amazing grace, strength, and control!) Charo Espino is highly regarded throughout Spain and has joined in performing with Angel’s company in the past.

In fact I can’t remember the last time I have seen a pair dance so exquisitely – these days it’s about solo performances or huge stage gatherings, but the simple “man/woman” thing gets short shrift in modern flamenco productions. Kudos to Sr. Peña’s keen understanding that most American theatre-goers are STARVING for the real deal which he has so graciously provided in this particular production!

New to me, Ramón Martinez’ danced an Alegrías that breathed the heady fragrance of love into the air that lingered momentarily. It’s bright and sunny joyfulness conveyed the promise of young manhood - - - bravado-fueled leaps and hair-tossing turns marked it’s sentiment. I appreciated his sense of playfulness, the audience responding in kind. Like Antonio el Pipa, he smiled and emoted freely (with no regard for any external judgment.) Unlike Sr. el Pipa, his emotion served as accent to the dance and not as a full-fledged character in the story… Isn’t it wonderful how music and movement is a language spoken worldwide and needs no translation? This dancer is a tremendous talent and another hidden jewel of the male flamenco dance community. After a mind-numbing selection in Jerez , it was so refreshing to see Ramón Martinez blow the audience away with his style.

Passion smoldered, interspersed with outbursts of playfulness, abandon and ferocity, all fueled by the pulsing rhythms of guitarists, a drummer and singers at the Latino Cultural Center.

In a Sunday night program called A Compás, the Paco Peña Flamenco Dance Company illuminated the range of flamenco from the trance-inducing alboreá to, in Mr. Peña's words, "the "razor-sharp complexity of the bulería."

An internationally known guitarist and director, Mr. Peña likes to investigate new possibilities. But he stays true to the basics.

The program opened on a dark stage as Miguel Ortega stamped a cane, an elemental call for others to join in. He sang a wedding song, and little by little others got into the swing. Except for Charo Espino, everyone was clad in signature black with a touch of red (rose head piece, red shoes and red lining in a man's jacket). Ms. Espino got all the color – red, orange, yellow – in tight-fitted dresses with plenty of ruffles at the hem.

Initially it was hard to distinguish Angel Muñoz from Ramón Martinez: They have identical waist-length curly hair, bodies of the same build, and both wore black pants and shirts. Mr. Martinez has a mustache, but eventually we came to recognize them because they have extremely different styles.

It takes about four minutes to register the quality of the latest offering from flamenco supremo Pace Peña.  In deep shadow, out of deep silence, a man bangs a rhythm with a stick. Then comes the voice, a rasping wail, ranging over microtones the way a bull might negotiate a trail in the Sierra Nevada . Anguished, rebellious, the song meanders unaccompanied for several stanzas.  Then three guitars lob harmony into the mix, and the shock of this sudden confluence almost lifts you out of your seat. The singer is still bang in tune.

The London-based guitarist attracts the very finest musicians and dancers in Spain , not just by the star quality of his solo playing but by his quietly profound understanding of the art form. Theatrical gimmicks have no place in Peña’s world. His shows simply draw together like- minded artists with a view to bringing about a kind of spontaneous combustion, creating an experience each night that’s as fresh for the performers as for the audience.

This programme, titled A Compás!, sets out to highlight flamenco’s rhythmic aspect - the compas being the strict temporal structure within which each artist improvises. In Pena’s solo guitar number, it emerges in lusciously shaped phrases, intricately voiced and free as water. In his duet with castanet virtuoso Charo Espino it becomes an electrifying dialogue, so fast and alert that it’s comic, especially when she lets the castanets wander up her arm, as if they had a purring life of their own.

NEVER invite a flamenco dancer to a house with a newly tiled floor. The power and energy of the three flamenco dancers accompanying legendary guitarist Paco Pena’s company of guitarists and singers could have literally brought the stage crashing down with their rhythmic stomping and tapping. It certainly left the audience at the Dewan Filharmonik Petronas completely breathless, judging from their uproarious response to Pena’s show earlier this week.

It was a complete flamenco concert, where the three aspects of the tradition — singing, dancing and music — were brought together in perfect synchronicity, a symbiosis of call and response, between dancer and guitarist, singer and dancer, and singer and guitarist. Sometimes it was only a dancer and a guitarist. “speaking” to each other, each note of the instrument inspiring an interpretive step, a wave of the arms, a finger tango, a swift turn of the head. The strumming of the guitar and the loud steps of the dancer complemented each other like the rhythmic handclaps that weaved a tapestry of complex tempos.

Peña is not kidding when he constantly emphasises that he is more interested in the roots of the music and culture more than anything else. There was no show- boating or grandstanding of any kind as every component of the Paco Peña Flamenco Dance Company is an equal on stage.

Even the leader himself did not always command the main lines of the music, and made way at times for the younger guitarists to take centre-stage. When every member was on stage, the synergy was complete, every guitarist, singer and dancer contributing their part to a harmonic and rhythmic whole.

You could easily lose yourself in the myriad complexities. It is true what they say — passion, grace and fire are three words that perfectly define flamenco.

Still, all this could not have been possible had it not been for Pena’s singular vision of preserving yet pushing the boundaries of flamenco in all its aspects. Born in Cordoba in Spain , Pena, at six, was taught guitar by his brother, and made his first professional appearance at 12. Since then, he has travelled the world with his music, placing flamenco in different settings, from jazz and classical to even blues and country, and from Ronnie Scott’s Jazz club to the Royal Albert Hall in London and Carnegie Hall in New York . With the Paco Peña Flamenco Dance Company, he has taken flamenco into the sphere of music-theatre, with groundbreaking shows such as Misa Flamenca (1991) and Musa Gitana (1999). Till this day, he continues to experiment with classical forms in flamenco. 

PERHAPS the true mark of a leg end is one who lets others shine. This was the case when respected flamenco guitarist Paco Peña performed at the Dewan Filharmonik Petronas in Kuala Lumpur earlier this week.

The maestro’s presence was undeniably strong but his young ensemble of dancers and musicians — most of whom stood a head over him — took to the stage with such fervour that one almost forgot Peña was there.

Flamenco in Concert marked Pena’s first performance in Malaysia but the audience was no stranger to the art. Visions of Antonio Banderas in El Mariachi and Desperado popped up in this writer’s mind.

The night’s performance opened with the four-piece band —guitarists Paco Arriaga, Rafael Montilla and Pena and percussionist Nacho Lopez playing a subdued, almost morose Presentacion bathed in warm yellow light before diving into a high-spirited song and dance.

Female vocalist Maria del Mar Fernandez, dressed in a long white elegant flamenco dress, was silent in this number, clapping rhythmically instead to the tune of Charo Espino’s snake-like arm movements. Espino twirled her fingers like an Indian dancer would while fluidly twisting her bodylike a barber’s spinning candy-stripe pole.

Of the 17 pieces performed that night (among them were Martinete, Caña, Alegrias. Cantinas, Tangos and Solea), Pena basked in the limelight only once, in the second instrumental number when he performed on solo guitar, skilfully and seamlessly manipulating the strings as if he was tugging at heartstrings, sounding like a scratchy record at times and a tinkling chandelier at others, even tickling the strings into melodious rippling water.

Pena may be a purist in guitar playing but he is clearly no stickler for tradition when it comes to entertaining his audience.

Much like a benevolent guru, he gives his handpicked charges the space for expression; as the latest addition to the company, dancer Ramón Martínez said: “Peña is like a father; he gives us room to experiment and shares his rich experiences with us”.

This was clear in the last performance in the first half of the show. Martinez simply let loose with frantic foot stomping, tossing his head wildly, teasing and taunting the audience by snapping his fingers and sending passionate glares across the hail, daring them to take him on.

Unlike Espino’s more traditional steps, Martínez danced like a rebellious teenager — energetic with an almost trip hammer-like intensity in his legs.

The use of castanets also hinted at Pella ’s willingness to improvise. At one point, Espino joined in with castanets, keeping a keen eye on the maestro’s handwork and allowing it to dictate her own manipulation of the castanets along the length of her arms.