Camden Fringe: Flamenco through the eyes of a balletomane

Image: FlamencoDanza

Flamenco – the flair is almost audible in its name. You might find it in an unsuspecting tavern in Seville, or so I have heard. In the UK however, its appearance is commercialised, exoticised, balletised. The performative function of Flamenco for the stage is partially why I have never indulged in the much-anticipated Flamenco Festival at Sadler’s Wells, but also because I have had no clue where to start in watching it. Just go to a performance, I hear you say – but I didn’t want my first impression of a Spanish tradition to be a clinically curated theatre piece. Despite this wish, it already was.

My dance training and love for dance is rooted in ballet and expands rapidly every day. Like many British ballet dancers, I worked my way through the Royal Academy of Dance’s exam syllabus, which also includes ‘character dance’. This particular dance style is a balletic version of folk dances largely originating from Russia and Hungary, as well as Italy and Spain. Ballet is littered with Spanish character dances – Coppélia and Swan Lake for instance, but Don Quixote is the most famous with the entire ballet drawing from Spanish influences. Its choreographer, Marius Petipa, lived in Spain from 1844-1847, experiencing Spanish dance first-hand (Meisner, 2019:49). Consequently, the ballet’s direct Flamenco roots are crystal clear. Balletic versions of Spanish folk dance possess town and countryside scenes, and the classical ballet dancing itself is draped in ruffles, lace and flamenco-like port de bras. Classical ballet is tidy, well-choreographed and each movement is done purposefully – whether I liked it or not, I already had a clean yet vague impression of Spanish dancing long before my curiosities about Flamenco were born. So when Flamencodanza came to the inobtrusive SPID Theatre for Camden Fringe, I seized my chance to go and witness some live Flamenco in a smaller setting.

A duo consisting of dancer Aylin Bayaz and guitarist Raul Mannola form Flamencodanza. The show is stripped back, honest, and focused on the very essence of Flamenco. Mannola’s skill as a guitarist is exceptional: each dance is introduced with his rich tones reverberating the air in rolling chords or rhythmic melody, fingers easily moulding the mellow voice of the guitar. Here, the musician is every part as important as the dancer. When Bayaz takes the stage, she and Mannola engage in a conversation of tune and rhythm. The pair echo musical phrases between them, Bayaz stamping and clicking her heels in response to, or proposing an idea to Mannola. Two things are particularly striking: the way Bayaz separates parts of the foot to accent her phrasing, and the sense of conversation between musician and dancer. 

Clad in mid-heeled shoes, Bayaz’s feet can be seen as split into two entities, the heel and the sole. The heel strikes the floor in a hard staccato, whereas the sole taps softly or strokes the ground in a sweeping motion as the working leg circles the body. The dynamic of the heel is hard but almost minute, allowing the feet to act as an additional percussive element to Mannola’s guitar. The control and precision Bayaz exhibits is mesmerising as she holds her upper body proud and stiff, an anchor against the rapid steps flicking out from her upheld skirt. The use of epaulement, a slight twist of the upper ribcage and shoulders, is often seen in classical ballet but is an extra embellishment when tracing Spanish ballet back to roots. Other positions and movements appear to translate; when Bayaz’s hands clasp on her downstage hip, back elbow bent, I am reminded of Kitri in the third act pas de deux of Don Quixote in a similar stance. Flamenco arms frame the head but retain a curved shape – ballet arms extend a little further – and Bayaz’s final dance involving an intricately woven yellow shawl makes me wonder if Don Quixote’s Act II pas between Kitri and Basilio was inspired by a similar dance. 

The shawl is a further indicator of a particular relationship in Flamenco: the relationship between dancer and textiles. Dance and fashion often go hand-in-hand. In classical ballet, costumes are meticulously crafted; more modern ballets have seen collaborations with designers like Coco Chanel for the Ballet Russes’ Le Train Bleu (1924). In other forms such as Khon (Thai classical dance), costume is a reflection of royal opulence and history, or dress and dancer can become equal mediums for each other, as in Japanese Kabuki. In Flamenco, it seems that dress transforms the dancer into a moving work of art in textures and shapes that ripple into silhouettes. A triangular lace panel sewn into the side of Bayaz’s blue satin skirt. When her skirt wraps around her, she can hold it out to one side for the panel to reappear, emphasising line and direction across the body. As the final dance reaches its climax, Mannola’s chords and melodies soaring into a crescendo, Bayaz turns swiftly, sending her skirts flying and the yellow shawl arcing above her head, eyes aflame. Like much of the past hour, this lasting image is enthralling. The costume adds a polished touch to the Flamenco dancer, completing her movements and poses by adding an extra dimension that enhances line and dynamics.

Alongside being a relaxed and absorbing introduction to Flamenco, watching Flamencodanza with ballet in the back of my mind reveals how one dance form can translate to another. Rather than presenting a caricature, Petipa’s knowledge arguably informs the appearance of Don Quixote without completely undermining the aesthetics of Flamenco. The shape of the arms and sense of bodily geometry bear similarity to balletic positions, but there are also plenty of elements that are not translated so obviously and are a pleasure to witness with Flamencodanza. The earthy quality to Bayaz’s dancing, for example, solidified in the connection between feet and ground. At the same time, light, rustling cloth, and Bayaz’s stage presence breathes a warm ethereality to the art form. The equality between musician and dancer is also key, with Mannola and Bayaz interweaving their disciplines into one practice. Seeing a stripped back performance from two artists well-versed in their craft, with no dramatic effects or big sets is a delight, and one that makes me feel set to view more Flamenco in future.

Further reading

Meisner, N. (2019) Marius Petipa. New York: Oxford University Press

Wingrave, H; Harrold, R. (1972) Spanish Dancing: A handbook on steps, style, castanets and dancing. Tunbridge Wells: Planned Action Ltd.

To watch

Don Quixote - Act II pas de deux (The Royal Ballet), 2015 (online) Dir: Royal Ballet and Opera Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJo39pcjhOw [accessed September 2025]

Flamencodanza Aylin Bayaz and Raul Mannola | Flamencodanza | trailer, 2024 (online) Dir: C Arts Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4tKtcpF808 [accessed September 2025]

Maia Makhateli, Daniil Simkin DQ PDD, 2022 (online) Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nN_1eNONmZA [accessed September 2025]