It is 25 years since the premier of this fiery, passionate, powerful rendition of the Carmen story. Devised by Antonio Gardes and Carlos Saura at the same time as the latter's film version, and inspired by the film's success, the flamenco staging of Carmen was both obvious and right - a Spanish story for a Spanish performance medium, in which the perfect consistency of matter and manner could be achieved.
      Dramatic flamenco has all the exhilaration of flamenco's dark raw energies in music and movement, plus a focus for them. There are those wailing songs about love and loss - also about the comedy of life too: they not infrequently have an hilarious take on the absurd sides of the passions. There is the elemental nature of the dance, lanced through with terrible restraints and boiling, sulpherous, agonizing feeling that can explode in a volcano of energies. Put these together with a narrative that is the exact expression of them - the Carmen story of desire, dangerous eroticism and murderous jealousy - and the match is perfect.
      Stella Arauza does not merely dance Carmen; she achieves complete identification with Carmen. Carmen lives on her pulses, acting as her instincts and urgencies dictate. If she loves, she has to express that love in whatever direction it takes her. This Stella Arauza manifests in the fire of her dancing. Therein lies the tragedy of Carmen's story: something pure and instinctive in her collides with the dark needs of Don Jose, who loses so much for her, and suffers so much, that eventually he is driven to kill her. Exploring this process in the medium of flamenco brings out the blood, the sinews, the sweat, the irresistible impulses and exigencies which make that collision inevitable.
Stella Arauza is well-matched by Adrian Galla's Don Jose. He moves from elegance to love and onward to despair, from pain to murder, in tautly convincing steps. There are real sparks between Don Jose and Carmen here, a play of electricity that weaves into the songs and the company's alluring presence as a Greek chorus, acting as part-participant, part-observer and part-commentator as the tragedy mounts and unfolds.
      A newcomer to flamenco would instantly get the point of this powerful performance medium in watching Carmen. The opening scene has one of the most exhilarating of ensemble dance settings; and the whole thing moves compellingly onward from there.
AC Grayling