I like Australians. Like Canadians, they are (by and large) warm, enthusiastic, and straightforward folks - definitely 'what you see is what you get', kind of people. Judging from how they were talking, they were excited about the show. They were also new to flamenco.
The tablao's host entered the stage, and asked in Spanish, English, and French, to please refrain from taking photographs or videos during the show; there would be time for that at the end. It's a pretty standard request. As soon as he finished, the woman beside me yelled, 'VAH MOSE!' Then her partner shouted it, as if to make sure we all heard. "VAH MOSE!"
I cringed. Who had told them that was an appropriate thing to yell? I've had enough flamenco to know when it's reasonable to shout a jaleo or two. Hearing 'VAH MOSE' (or 'let's go!' for vamos) was too much for my sensibilities. Plus, I didn't want to keep hearing it shouted in my ear throughout the show.
I leaned over to the woman and whispered, "Excuse me. I know a little about flamenco. If you really want to show your appreciation, a better thing to say might be, 'Olé!' or 'Eso es!"
Her eyebrows lifted. Her partner considered me as if I had suggested a better Rioja. "Eso es?" she repeated.
"Yes. It means, 'that's it!' You can say it when a dancer performs a really amazing bit of footwork. Or you can shout, 'Toma!' It means to 'take it!'"
She beamed at me as if I had handed her the moon. He nodded. "Toma! Right! Thanks!"
"No problem." I smiled. I had done my good flamenco deed for the day. None of the performers would be insulted with hearing "VAH MOSE!" as if what they were doing on stage wasn't enough, and the two beside me were happy, armed with appropriate jaleos. As the guitarist and singer took the stage, we watched them tune up. After their first piece, one of the dancers performed an incredible Tarantos. As she finished with an awe-inspiring set of turns, it came:
"HAY SOW! HAY SOW!"
My seat-mate was so enthusiastic, and shouting it so loud, she almost lurched from her seat. I didn't have the heart to stop her. Every time she shouted 'HAY SOW', I kept finishing it with an 'es' in my head. Was 'HAY SOW!' any better than 'VAH MOSE!'? Probably worse. I hoped the flamencos on stage would see her appreciation for what it was.
But when she started in at the start of a Seguirillas, I set a hand upon her arm. "It's probably better to say that a little less during this piece," I whispered.
"Oh, right," she said, noting the terse expression on the dancer's face. "She looks a bit upset."
"Yes. It's that kind of dance."
"Got you," my seat mate replied, nodding. We were flamenco sisters now, afficionadas.
In didn't stop the 'hay sows', but the end, she won me over. She was so happy and thrilled with what she was seeing, she kept grabbing me by the arm when something exciting occurred. Being a touchy-feelie person myself (although not as touchy as she was), the four of us agreed the show had been astounding. Afterwards, we introduced ourselves. They were Natalie and Wade from Adelaide, and off to Madrid the next day. It seems Australians like Canadians, as much as Canadians like Australians. I told them they should visit Casa Patas, a famous tablao there. Natalie assured me they would.
I suspect Casa Patas rang with her "HAY SOWS!" I don't doubt they'll be remembered in Madrid. :-)
Hasta luego, mis amigos, olé!
- Susan.
No comments:
Post a Comment