Gypsy Passion. - Radio City Music Hall, New York, New York - dance reviews

Dance Magazine, Dec, 1996 by Camille Hardy

Transforming the subtle, steamy intimacies of flamenco into a splashy extravaganza that could bounce off the cavernous art deco rafters of Radio City Music Hall is no small feat. While purists may protest that some of the art's quintessential duende is lost in this process the dynamic expressiveness that is gained catapults Joaquin Cortes's Gypsy Passion into the global mainstream, magnifying an ancient form into a new contemporary style. Smoky floor-show precision mingles with theatrical cult ritual, yet the sincerity and technical finesse of the performers fully support the bravura, causing spectators to reevaluate traditional intricacies in terms of Cortes's massive scale.

As the evening begins the dark stage is lit by massive tiers of glowing candles. Cortes makes his entrance down the theaters center aisle, bare-cheated and wearing a long black skirt. To percussive strains from his brilliant musicians, the hero-star lies his arms majestically and the candles glide on cue into the blackness of the wings. In spite of this opening, and multiple program listings that credit him with direction, choreography, a hand with the lighting and music adaptation--along with star billing--Gypsy Passion is not a Cortes--orama. Other fine dancers--Aida Gomez, Rosa de Las Heras, Conchi Maya, Marco Berriel, and Cristobal Reyes--are prominently featured. The musical ensemble, together and in solos, weaves the entire production into a single tapestry. Miked, mixed, and mightily amplified, singers Charo Manzano, Ana Reyes, Jose Salito, Juanares, and Miguel Montero ringingly articulate erotic passions and sorrows.

The attempted flirts with sexual ambiguity play quite differently in New York City than in many other world cities. The twelve gorgeous females in Ambiguedad ("Ambiguity") look less like what the program describes as "women dressed as men" than Ford models wearing Armani pantsuits--very feminine and sexy; the cross-dressing reference doesn't shock or even resonate. The same can be said for Berriel in Suspiran ("Sighs"). The train from a Spanish dress called bata de cola is attached to one side of his black tights. Like any fine dancer with a fabric prop, he handles it deftly and dramatically, projecting pure masculine sensuality.

The excellence of all the performers prevents Gypsy Passion's boldness from becoming hokey. Mystery and magic are further evoked by stunning lighting designed by Juanjo Beloqui and Patrick Woodruffe with Cortes, whose spectacular dancing becomes almost an afterthought.