by Nicole Bravo
We sat down for delicious tapas and chatted with the ladies beside us, excited about our table only three feet from the stage. We took notice of all the scuff marks on the stage and wondered how old it was, how many dancers it had seen, and what great stories it could tell. Then our story began. The guitarist came first, warming up his fingers on his guitar, then the dancers. As he began to truly make his instrument sing, the dancers soaked in the sound and began clapping their own individual syncopated rhythm, this would eventually lead them to taking center stage one or two at a time to dance their own dance. There is no choreography here, no plan of what dancers partner with one another, the dance and even the music itself is guided by one thing. . . passion.
The audience is anything but a group of onlookers as we join in with clapping, shouting, and tears which stream down our faces from somewhere deep within that has been stirred by the display of passion before us. I find myself among the many voices shouting, "Bravo! Bravo!" Yes, Bravo. This is where I come from; these are my roots. I want to live the way they dance, con pasión.
We sat down for delicious tapas and chatted with the ladies beside us, excited about our table only three feet from the stage. We took notice of all the scuff marks on the stage and wondered how old it was, how many dancers it had seen, and what great stories it could tell. Then our story began. The guitarist came first, warming up his fingers on his guitar, then the dancers. As he began to truly make his instrument sing, the dancers soaked in the sound and began clapping their own individual syncopated rhythm, this would eventually lead them to taking center stage one or two at a time to dance their own dance. There is no choreography here, no plan of what dancers partner with one another, the dance and even the music itself is guided by one thing. . . passion.
The audience is anything but a group of onlookers as we join in with clapping, shouting, and tears which stream down our faces from somewhere deep within that has been stirred by the display of passion before us. I find myself among the many voices shouting, "Bravo! Bravo!" Yes, Bravo. This is where I come from; these are my roots. I want to live the way they dance, con pasión.
