Flamenco: A way of life Picture a cavernous, smoke-filled bar in the midst of Andalusia. Tapas dishes are scattered around the tables, handled by a few locals playing cards. A musician sits in a corner with his guitar, plucking strings to the beat of his foot on the rustic floor. A mysterious dark woman joins his side. She swishes her skirt; she drums with her buckled shoes and flirts with the acoustic sounds. She smiles, she pouts and she dances flamenco. Flamenco is more than a slick of red lips, a pair of castanets and few ‘Olé’s’. The traditional Spanish dance is hard to come by especially in its most authentic form. But in Stockholm, you can dance and study under the watchful eye of Gabriela Gutarra. With a Peruvian and Spanish background, Gabriela has been dancing for 20 years and has lent her charm and expertise to Sweden since settling in Stockholm in 1991. She founded the Flamenco Center seven years ago and, from the day-to-day tuition in her studio on Torsgatan to majestic performances with the Royal Swedish Theatre, she lives and breathes her art. “Flamenco is a way of living, it’s not just a dance style,” she says. “The tradition has developed from folklore to an art form. Tradition is not enough, you have to study flamenco.” “People who have danced for years know how difficult it is. They have respect for it and know how huge it is within Spanish culture.” Flamenco takes inspiration from mixture of cultures including Arabic, Muslim, gypsy and Spanish-Christian; all of these and hundreds of years of evolution. But anyone can dance Flamenco according to Gabriela, who insists talent isn’t necessarily in the blood. “People from Spain come and they are really bad dancers. And then you have a person from China, and she is better. I don’t believe that if you’re Spanish you dance better. You have to believe in it with your mind and heart and give it time.” Add to that list a strong set of thighs after having endured a one and a half hour class. And passion, something the Swedes don’t have enough of, Gabriela observes. “I have to give them passion,” she says. “Sometimes I yell at them too much but dance is hard and you have to push people. Some people think I’m too hard, the very weak people go home because they think it’s a kind of dance therapy. I don’t do dance therapy, I do dance and culture and a way of living and I try to inspire them to be strong.” Offering classes from beginners to advanced level, her studio is framed with portraits of her performances. But with her pinned-back hair and glasses, she is almost unrecognisable from the Flamenco diva you see on the walls. She takes a no-nonsense headmistress approach to her teaching and expects no less than 110 per cent from her students. Be put off at your peril. “No chewing gum in class,” she says and cups her hands under one student’s mouth as an order to spit the offending article out. She can shout and she will tell you straight. “If you don’t like me, take the next class with my sister; she is much nicer.” But she hides a certain softness under that hard exterior which surfaces when she fights to describe her emotions on the dance floor. “You can’t explain it, the enjoyment is too huge. You would need a poet to explain.” Added to that is an extraordinary compassion and belief in her work. On meeting Gabriela Gutarra you really wouldn’t want to be taught Flamenco by anyone else. -Christine Demsteader © 2006, Swedish Bulletin. All rights reserved