Conception,
choreography
sets dramatic
arrangement
of the music
Salvador
Távora
Music
Salvador Távora
Julio Vera
Rafael Soto Reyes
Jose Ramon
Perez Soto
Angel Manuel
Cerebero Miranda
Francisco Rodriguez
Carmen
Lalo Tejada
Don Jose Lizarrabengoe
Marco Vargas
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Carmen
Salvador Távora
Sadler's Wells
18 - 26 Feb 2002
Since Mérimée wrote Carmen in 1845 and Bizet transformed it into opera, the powerful and evocative story of a gypsy girl has taken countless artistic forms. Re-living childhood memories through this production, the Seville-born Távora attempts to reclaim the real Carmen through tales passed down by his own great-great-great grandmother.
In challenging the myth of Carmen, who in Mérimée's interpretation was frivolous and shameless, Távora has re-made the story by capturing feelings and images of the Andalusian life lived by his own ancestors. Experiencing sadness, suffering and injustice, Távora's Carmen leads protests against the social conventions of the time.
Távora clearly doesn't believe in taking the softly-softly approach. From the start, and throughout, the audience is faced with more than twenty Andalusian soldier musicians, a group of wailing gypsies, and fast flamenco footwork from the main protagonists.
It comes as little surprise that the chief pleasure is given by the performances of Carmen (Lalo Tejada) and her lover, Don Jose (Marco Vargas) through their display of expert, drumming footwork, delivered with genuine hauteur, which leaves the audience breathless.
Carmen herself looks the part. Her beauty shadows the rough edges of her gypsy existence and her long, dark hair is left loose so that it can be thrown and flicked in displays of passion and torment.
Be prepared therefore to be drained by the pace and emotional energy after a tumultuous forty-five minutes. It is hard to pin-point whether it is the ear-piercing bugle playing, the sheer energy of the performance, or the struggle that is at the root of Carmen's story, which produces this effect. Needless to say, by the time you reach the "Love" scene and "Habanera", when original music from Bizet's Carmen kicks in, there is a palpable sense of relief. This interlude works as a comfort break, albeit short-lived, in a performance that has no interval.
The highlight of the production is without doubt the magnificent white horse. The programme refers to "Love on a horse", but the actual arrival of a horse which takes centre-stage is a delightful surprise. It is a stunning, even breath-taking spectacle that at the end of the show receives a standing ovation. That said, the excitement could 'excite' animal rights campaigners in a different sense; the horse ridden by Carmen's new love the Picador, trots no, dances – round the stage in a style reminiscent of a performing circus animal.
The bugle calls and melancholy chanting of the gypsies are both piercing and unsettling throughout. Távora's skill in gathering the audience in a whirlwind of noise, anguish and pain is extraordinary.
This is more than just another version of Carmen. But you would be disappointed if you went hoping to be treated to a musical masterpiece or dance extravaganza that leaves you wondering whether it is too late to take tap lessons. Instead, let this assembly of flamenco dancing, musical percussion, handsome soldiers and woe-stricken gypsies broaden your experience of Carmen the story and Carmen the woman.
Jemma Walters
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