Flamenco Sin Fronteras
Not everyone can flamenco. It’s an artform unto itself, fusing music, dance and performance all in one.
Overview
At some point during my hardcore So You Think You Can Dance addiction during my first year of uni, I became inspired. These were kids like you and me, carving up the floor week in and week out, in dance styles I’d never heard of, let alone seen! I was convinced I could do a little swing, a little jazz ballet… but what I didn’t take into account was that these people were talented, and spent hours upon hours per week perfecting their craft. All I was willing to do was swirl around my bedroom after each episode, for about ten minutes (after that I got bored and gave up).
I guess on TV you don’t really see the slight nuances that create the barrier of difference between these expert movers (them) and novice shakers (me). For example, not everyone can flamenco. It’s an artform unto itself, fusing music, dance and performance all in one. There’s an energy that seeps out of flamenco dancers that is incomparable to veging out on the couch, watching the SYTYCD eliminations. Here in white-bread Brisbane, you can catch that Spanish sizzle at Flamenco sin Fronteras, but it’s for one night only. After that, the only flamenco sin fronteras you’ll be able to catch is through your TV screen, or, if you’re lucky, you’ll catch me trying to make my break in dancing after a couple of sangrias (do yourself a favour and go see the real thing).
