Flamenco Love

Just over 10 years ago I took Flamenco dancing lessons while studying abroad in Granada, Spain.  I still have my Flamenco shoes in my closet eternally waiting for Flamenco lessons to become available in London, ON, Canada.  It’s been a long wait that continues.  Last night I was able to attend a Flamenco show put on my 4 musicians and dancers who study Flamenco in Sevilla, Spain.  This was my husband’s first time seeing such a spectacle and a great prelude to what he’ll see when we go back to visit Granada in August.   The event was very small; I counted a maximum 50 people.  It was a powerful and intimate performance.  At intermission my husband turned to me with “What do you think?” and I must admit it was great, but after living in Granada (the birthplace of Flamenco) and seeing real gypsies and Flamenco artists perform with the Alhambra in the background – I’ve been pretty spoiled.  Last night I was reminded of my love for Flamenco and the got the push to start planning my August vacation to Italy, Spain, and Austria.

 

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This women was the tallest and most blonde Flamenco dance I have ever see.  It was impossible to take in her movement with my glance.

 

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I could not stop staring at the guitarists shoes.  They were black healed Flamenco shoes.  Like this:

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They were perfectly worn in, scuffed, and reinforced and looked like they had been dance through and stomped millions of nights.  I may need to investigate this more.