Spanish Rocío Molina stunned audiences with her modern flamenco at Adelaide’s Her Majesty’s Theatre in her performance of Caída del Cielo (Fallen from Heaven) at Adelaide Festival.
The 40 year old dancer and choreographer has been getting recognition since an early age. At just 17 she graduated with honours at the Royal Dance Conservatory in Madrid. By 26, she was awarded the National Award for Dance for “her contribution to the renewal of flamenco and for her versatility and strength as a performer capable of handling the most diverse registers with freedom and courage” by the Spanish Ministry of Culture.
At 28, after Molina’s outstandingly successful performance of Oro Viejo (Old Gold), Mikhail Baryshnikov kneeled before her at the door of her dressing room at New York City Center. Molina has been associated with the Chaillot National Theatre in Paris since 2014, where she premiered this piece, Caída del Cielo, in November 2016. She has also collaborated with Jean Paul Goude in designing a project for Hermès in Shanghai.
Molina’s opening performance in Caída del Cielo happens without music, in a stark contrast to the usual rhythms of flamenco music, and the loud opening number the band performed before she appeared. All that we hear is the movements of the long ruffles of her bata de cola dress on the floor and the occasional familiar foot tapping. Her movements are exaggerated and powerful, even though they may occasionally be so slow you feel like perhaps she’s not moving at all. An exaggerated lean is striking, she makes back-bending from standing upright to lying horizontal seem effortless.
Following this first act, Molina disrobes, before covering her naked body with her hands in a pose reminiscent of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus before herself being reborn as a matador-esque figure in leggings, a crop top and a gold vest. This is the first time we see Molina interact with her band members, the wonderful singer Kiko Peña, and José Manuel Ramos “Oruco”. She has a dance-off of sorts with them. We don’t understand what they are saying so it’s unclear whether they are encouraging her along or provoking her. But in any event, she begins to dance faster and faster, her zapateo tap-dancing feet and thigh slapping (golpe de muslo) becoming more frenzied. Her facial expression makes it appear as though the movement is involuntary, as if she isn’t in control.
And control is very much the theme of the next part in which references to BDSM through a brief costume adjustment, and the amusing placement of a packet of chips. This is just one of the absurd and humorous moments offered by Molina in Caída del Cielo (Fallen from Heaven). It’s clear that Molina likes to have fun with her dance, as she turns traditions on their head. She dances with a pole between her legs both suggestively and perhaps in a nod to the old-fashioned perception that women who were different were witches. There’s the same rapport with the band members as before – where we’re not sure if she is dancing to impress them or dancing angrily at them.
The most impactful of Molina’s costume changes in Caída del Cielo (Fallen from Heaven) is the next one, in which she changes into a purplish-brown liquid soaked dress, with which she paints the stage as she dances and moves across it. She moves slowly across the stage before slumping to the ground. Molina struggles to get back up. Perhaps this is symbolic of death, or simply of struggle.
The audience gets to see her movements for this piece, not just by watching Molina on stage but courtesy of a camera mounted above the stage which projects to the back screen. Just as with her opening dance, this one is silent allowing us to hear the swishing of the wet fabric as it is dragged across the stage. The dress doesn’t just stain the stage, it leaves is mark on her too allowing her to have a biblical washing of the feet moment.
Just as Molina mixes traditional flamenco with more contemporary dance, she contrasts the fast and the slow. Moving now from the slow, quietness of before, Molina is again with her band who are playing rock sounding electric guitar. Just as they alternate between slow and frenzied guitar riffs, Molina’s movements also alternate from slow sashaying to frenzied toe tapping and thigh slapping. Again, she moves so fast it’s as if it’s involuntary, as if she were possessed.
The show is described as showing the “multiple incarnations of the feminine archetype – from virtuous beauty to bondage-clad toreador to bloodied supernatural being”. It could also be viewed as a portrayal of the different phases of the moon, as at various points in the show different moon images are projected onto the back screen.
There is no doubting Rocio Molina’s talent but at times we started to feel that something was lacking – whether it be another dancer, or someone else to interact with. Admittedly though, just when we were thinking that, Molina surprised us with the soaked dress.
Caída del Cielo (Fallen from Heaven) is for lovers of dance with a twist, dance with theatre, and a celebration of womanhood.
4 CROISSANTS
Matilda Marseillaise was a guest of Adelaide Festival
KEY INFO FOR CAÍDA DEL CIELO (FALLEN FROM HEAVEN)
WHAT: Rocio Molina’s Caída del Cielo (Fallen from Heaven)
WHERE: Her Majesty’s Theatre, ADELAIDE
WHEN: Last show tonight, Monday 3 March, at 8pm
HOW: Purchase your tickets via the Adelaide Festival website
HOW MUCH: Ticket prices (exclusive of transaction fee) are as follows:
- Adult
A Res $109, B Res $89 - Festival Friends
A Res $93, B Res $76 - Concession (Pensioner, Health Care Card* holder, MEAA/Actors’ Equity member)
A Res $87, B Res $72 - Under 30 (ID Required)
A Res $55, B Res $45 - Full-time student (ID required)
A Res $50, B Res $40
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