MIDI LIBRE 16/1/2012 Roland Massabuau.
(Festival de Nimes)
“La Moneta” dans la grande cour”
Sur scéne, elle est "La Moneta", pseudonyme emprunté au surnom, féminisé, de toute sa famille. Et depuis hier soir, á l´unanimité du public présent au théâtre, elle a atteint triple M. Comme la premiére lettre de son nom de scéne, bien sûr, mais aussi M comme magistrale et magnifique. C´est le crédit que lui a apporté le spectacle, devant une salle bondée, programmé dans le cadre du festival flamenco et elle assurait la derniére partie.
“…Mais, et lá, sans réserve aucune, c´est avec Fuensanta La Moneta que le théâtre entier impressionné par la classe et la performance, á tous les niveaux, réalisée par l´artiste, a salué une danseuse franchissant avec panache les portes de la grande cour. D´une intensité renversante, avec un zapateo á la fois nuancé et vibrant, une aisance gestuelle digne des meilleures, une intuition chorégraphique et une énergie qui en disent long sur la lette compléte de ses possibilites, elle a maintenu constants la tensión et l´impact du moindre des signes de son vocabulaire flamenco. Grenade a une nouvelle reine. “
VOLANDOVENGO BLOG 6/6/2012 Jorge Fernández Bustos
“Lo que trae el aire”
The air is whimsical. The air comes and goes. The Flamenco displayed by La Moneta in the Teatro Isabel la católica on Monday, June 4, coinciding with the first day of the celebrations of the Corpus Christi in Granada, was like the air; it was like that wind that comes and goes on a whim, which takes and brings at will.
It starts with ‘granaínas‘. She heels over to the left as the musicians gather on the right. She challenges symmetry and she is a trendsetter because of her moderation. The light is kind-hearted and unveils all sort of secrets. There is nothing to hide. The sound is impeccable too. Even the absence of 'taconeo' (heel-tapping) is noticed in this first piece. She just sings with her body. With a leonine gown and a shawl, she dances to the singing which, just like her, is a ceremony. Firstly, Juan Ángel Tirado and his personal music box, then Jaime Heredia 'El Parrón' and the bronze in his voice. The anthological closing is provided by Manzanita de Granada and his deluge.
In the danceless ‘abandolaos’, the flamenco singers Miguel Lavi de Jerez and David `El Galli' de Morón make their appearance. What a display of voices, what a treat of timbres. They are all different, complementary, admiring one another, imposing their taste.
The dancer comes back ‘por soleá’ with her three tiered flounce dress. Her precise beat, her glance, her silences, her falls and her poses render her intentions transparent: the singing is the language, she is the interpreter; the singing is free, she invents; the singing creates, she recreates. The closing 'por bulerías' is a celebration where this woman from Granada seems to slip into a trance. She lets herself go and fears neither emptiness nor anyone.
The guitar turns into a solo to deliver a beautiful ‘bulería’. Luis Mariano brings the sound from the mountains. He conveys both love and lack of affection, storm and calm. He is accompanied by the particularly fine Miguel ‘El Cheyenne’ with his box.
Luis sings a solo and he starts the 'farruca'. Dressed in a backless black boiler suit, Fuensanta discovers another form of dancing. The 'farruca' swaps gender. It now is sinuous and sensual. Her feet sing the absence of voices. The sky is hers.
A round of ‘martinetes’ reveals the greatness of the flamenco singers, their good form, their healthy rivalry. They look at each other and they like what they see. They pass the baton on, cheering on the remarks of sympathetic circularity and the cues of their companions. The ‘seguiriya’ rolls on. This is possibly the style which La Moneta is best identified with. The drama turns light-hearted and the grimace invades the wise contemporaneity that has soaked the whole concert.
The finale, after the greetings, comes in the form of ‘tangos’, where the flamenco singers sing at will and become choirs when they are from ‘el Camino del Monte’. Fuensanta, with more freedom than ever, dances for desserts.
IDEAL 6/6/2012 José Manuel Rojas.
‘Singing renders tribute to La Moneta’
There are only a few people who can command and can do, but there are even less people who show respect and do share. This reflection is one of the main valuations that must cross the mind of anyone after seeing Fuensanta the Moneta dancing. Well, if the 'granadina' purported to dance to the singing in the play “Extremo Jondo”, in ‘Lo que trae el aire’, in spite of not having an established script, a primitive similar structure can be felt although with tints closer to a symbiosis. A paradigm of flamenco singers who grow bigger as they constantly take turns to sing different 'palos' (beats) supported by Luis Mariano's colossal work on the guitar and the skilful percussion of ‘El Cheyenne’. Not only they all work in order to please the public, but also to attain a personal satisfaction of the moment. This is not just a job, it is a challenge between friends where no one wants to be left behind, and that is conveyed in the form of a healthy competition. In this environment, any flamenco dancer would grow bigger and, in the case of Fuensanta, a transition to become huge, almost titanic, is shaped. She fills the stage of the Isabel La Católica theatre with a repertoire of poses 'por granainas' decorated with the floating of the shawl and the long-tailed gown; she leads a crescendo 'por soleá' where even the flamenco neophytes applaud to a rage.
And, inadvertently, we are already captives of her ritual, a place where the spectator is mesmerized by each one of her glances, and where the high priestess of dancing could do whatever she wanted, for she has already put a spell on us. No hidden catch, but based on a creed where there are no lies. There is only delivery.
But beyond what might seem a fervent and instinctive act, La Moneta listens to every guitar chord, she forms an alliance with every beat of the box and respects with intent each utterance of her flamenco singers. Everyone sings anything, but everyone gets their own prize. Round Miguel Lavi ‘por soleá’, powerful and fancyful ‘El Galli’ marking the ‘abandolaos’ pace, striking with intensity ‘El Parrón’ por seguirilla, Inevitable Juan Angel Tirado with his ‘martinete’, and close as well as vintage ‘La Nitro’'s tangos. Equally, the guitar has its moment, although its moment equally lasts all evening. Right after a solo supported by the percussion, Luis Mariano dances a ‘farruca’ 2.0 where the dance becomes modernistic and the most respected dancer dreams of Fuensanta's forms thanks to a black dress that leaves her entire back exposed. The finale comes closer with a round of ‘martinetes’, and the penultimate choreography of the night ‘por seguirillas’ in this occasion; although, finally, in an encore ‘por tangos’, there will be another important kick.
Here, more than ever, emerges that savagery which the flamenco dancers from Granada should not miss, that freshness which should not be educated, that dancing blowing in the wind.
GIRALDA TELEVISIÓN 28/9/2012 ANTONIO ORTEGA.
"... La Moneta, when she starts dancing in her own right, which is what she did last night, dazzles the senses of the most discerning fans; in her dance, she gives us details of the greatest dancers in history, but seasoned with her own personality, a nectar that tastes like earthy roots ... ", " ... she danced a pas de deux with Javier Latorre which left a legacy in the annals of this Bienal... "
She gave a flamenco lesson without theatrical prominence other than the dancing of a brilliant and eloquent artist in the forms she purports. Fuensanta la Moneta gave her all on stage in this dance recital one hundred percent flamenco, unsweetened, dancing in her own right, she herself and her ‘jondura’ (depth).
"... She had the collaboration of the master Juan José Amador singing ‘por seguiriyas’, evocation of one of his main flamenco dancers, the great Carmen Amaya, whom the dancer constantly shows tacit support through her dancing..."
"... She also had the special collaboration of dancer and choreographer Javier Latorre. His dancing is like the architecture of a cathedral, a masterpiece. Latorre's dancing style purports excellence because everything in it is developed in a body language that is not tied to tensions, dancing for him is the same as blinking, it is not a sequence of positions, it is an extension of his body. The well of wisdom he now treassures has given him excellence and elegance. “Solea Apolá”, Latorre's mastery was melted with La Moneta's temperament in the pas de deux. They are two concepts far apart, but the union was delightful..."
"... La Moneta naturalized the dance in this recital and she emptied the grief of her fans, bereaved by the impure false vanguard. With Luis Mariano's music, guitarist, she also interpreted a ‘farruca’, ‘malagueñas’, ‘zapateados’, ‘tientos’, ‘zambras’, ‘jaleos’ and ‘solea por bulerías’.”
‘... Her flamenco spirit was supreme, full of details, she excelled herself with the ‘tangos’, she gave it all and found herself drawing gestures and movements again and again that rocked a tasty palate, she suffered in the tragedy of the ‘seguiriya’, she was sentenced in the ‘solea’ and was a river of joy in the festive styles. Her brilliant footwork rules her dancing but it does not condemn it because La Moneta's vehemence meets her mood when what she dances and what she tells is the same thing ... ‘
SEVILLA FLAMENCA 28/9/2012 Alejandro Medina Merino
To the sound of the ‘malagueña’ and the ‘farruca’, we see a more anchored Moneta, attentive to body positioning. She sometimes looked for awkward positions, but even so, the scent of inspiration always appears. The vision of this she-flamenco dancer from Granada does not give in an inch to banality. She became lighter with her footwork, she connected better with the group and we started to relax to see dancing done in a unique way, which starts to become exclusively the dancing of La Moneta. That dancing style is not merciful, it knows no relief, and it is locked in a dark and dense style of flamenco tragedy.
The ‘seguiriya’ is a knife that stabs her and makes her squirm, and she fights it with the volcanic force of her feet. When it looks like the Earth is going to crack open, La Moneta lifts her face to take our breath away. Her face is the centre of her expression, the deepest Moneta in a body that hurts and gets hurt.
Fuensanta la Moneta focuses her discourse on her feet and on the twisting of her upper body. This might be appreciated or not, for that femininity has in here a more earthly than sensual version. Her arms have no main role, they rarely crown her head. Her twists seem to seek the pain on her feet, and then, for an instant, frees herself, stands up and fixes her eyes on the audience: wow! The most brilliant moment of the night came with the ‘soleá’, together with Javier Latorre, who was her teacher. The cyclonic force of La Moneta stroke against Latorre's stillness, his manly and elevated dance tamed Fuensanta's shoves, who was dancing like the wind whistling through the trees. This is Extreme Flamenco, very exciting.
With the ‘soleá por bulerías’ we enter another emotive cycle, and it gives us unforgettable pictures. But it was in the ‘tientos’ with an edge of ‘zambra’ where La Moneta opened the bottle of sensuality: her arms and hips appear, the set of flounces, the magic of the Sacromonte ... Our chest opens wide and we flutter with the Moorish panache because La Moneta lead us to fall in love with her. In the final ‘jaleos’ we've already surrendered to her, well served of dancing.
The show has areas for improvement, such as lighting and some moments of singing, but we have to thank them all for bringing us so much Flamenco, that flamenco we all need so badly.
ABC SEVILLA 29/9/2012 Marta Carrasco.
"Real Flamenco Dancing from Granada"
"La Moneta paso a paso" (La Moneta step by step) is a decent play; it is serious and it is intended to respond exactly to her name. That is, to expose this Granada woman's dancing who faces alone her dancing and the audience.
Well surrounded by a group of singers and Luis Mariano's solo guitar, Fuensanta La Moneta elevates her dancing to mastery. The play is divided into three episodes: "Sobre mis pasos" (Over my own steps) ‘por farruca’, ‘malagueña’ and ‘zapateado’; "Hados" (fates) ‘por soleá apolá’ and ‘seguiriyas’; and "Vereda" (trail), ‘tientos azambreados’, ‘jaleos’ and ‘soleá por bulerías’. All this with two great collaborators: Juan Jose Amador and Bobote.
But besides showing her dancing, La Moneta wished to bring back a dancer who we haven't seen, in a stage from the Bienal, since 1994, when he took part in a tribute to Antonio the dancer: Javier Latorre. This 18-year absence in which Latorre has been dedicated to creating, have not taken away a bit of his dancing essence. He enjoyed it and the audience enjoyed his dancing.
The dancing progressed slowly and it was ‘por tientos azambreados’ and ‘jaleos’ that Granada gushed out. In a world so standardized, where everyone mimics everybody else, La Moneta has chosen to be different. So, her dancing style is strong on her feet, but singular in her arms and torso. The Sacromonte and the Albaizin are imprinted in La Moneta's dancing. She moves her head back, raises her arms and dances with her feet, and all she missed doing was the arch on the floor like in the famous "The Swallow". I liked what emanates from La Moneta's dancing; it ranges from sensuality to sweetness, from the academic to the popular stuff. The ‘jaleos’ and the ‘soleá por bulerías’ were the finishing touch for a night in which a dancer showed us her sincere way of understanding flamenco, the flamenco from her Granada. I was glad that she never forgets where her roots are.
Copyright © 2013 Fuensanta La Moneta