Waterfall

My Walkabout finds me in Madrid for a little while, and I find myself reporting joyfully on rain, once again. Not because it has been raining an unusual amount here, but because of a production I went to the other night. It was primarily a dance event, celebrating and dramatizing the work of poet Frederico Garcia Lorca during his time in New York in the 1920s. The choreography was by (I’ve forgotten… will find ticket and update shortly) [update: Blanca Li. Title: ¨Poeta en Nueva York¨] with flamenco as the primary form, mixed with several other dance traditions. There was a lot of good and enjoyable work to see, but I’ll admit to being blown away by the theatre’s (and associated production staff’s) ability to suddenly create a rainstorm on the stage, and sustain it for a prolonged period while one of the dances (using the water, as you can see) used it to great and stunning effect. I had to sneak a (no flash and no disturbing of neighbours of course) photo for you. Click for larger view.

A bit like the first time you saw Jurassic Park back when it was first released and utterly groundbreaking visually, I (and maybe you?) spent time thinking, “this is amazing!”, “how did they pull off this illusion?”, before concluding that maybe the only way to do it so well is if they actually just did it rather than simulate it. In this instance (but, of course not the movie), this was in fact the case. That’s real water pouring down (there’s a hidden line of drains you can’t see) and splashing all over, and it is not the end of the show. Cleverly, the next piece was a voice artist simply reading a poem with a spotlight on him, giving the staff time to go over the stage in mop gangs again and again to dry it down before more dance continued. I am happy to report that nobody slipped later on in the event, and it all ended splendidly with the big number and so forth…

-cvj

(For those following along, the library hideout in an earlier post was the lovely space at the Riena Sofia Art Museum, in the new space designed by Jean Nouvel. I told you about this museum on my last trip.)