Review: Ballet Flamenco Sara Baras: Vuela, Sadler’s Wells

As the house lights dim, six diagonal beams slice through the darkness, illuminating the stage in a mysterious, cinematic tableau. The haunting and evocative music of Keko Baldomero swells, setting the tone for a journey that is as much about life and death as it is about movement and music. A single chair stands on an otherwise bare stage. Then, a solo guitar strikes its first notes and Sara Baras emerges. What follows is nothing short of a revelation.

Celebrating the 25th anniversary of her company, Baras presents a deeply personal and emotionally resonant tribute to the legendary Paco de Lucía: one of flamenco’s most revered voices. The show, structured in four acts —“Wood, Sea, Dead, Fly”— unfolds over fifteen unique pieces, each centred around a single word. It’s a poetic structure that allows for the exploration of texture, mood, and metaphor. From the grounded rhythms of “Wood” to the luminous transcendence of “Fly,” Baras moves like someone who has lived every beat she dances.

There is a deliberate elegance in the production. The lighting design by Oscar Gómez de los Reyes is spectacular, casting dramatic shadows, painting reflections, and crafting moments of painterly beauty reminiscent of Caravaggio and Julio Romero de Torres. Chairs, minimalist and refined, are more than props: they’re part of the choreography. The detail in every tableau is stunning, offering visual poetry to match the physical.

Baras’ footwork is jaw-dropping—precise, fast, and impossibly clean. But what makes her artistry exceptional is how it’s never just about technical mastery. Every hand gesture, every pivot, every flick of her skirt carries meaning. She dances not just with her body, but with her whole being. Her silhouette framed against a hand-painted backdrop of doves is a striking image of beauty and grace, encapsulating her singular presence.

The “Sea” act is a standout: joyful, playful, and fluid. The dancers become waves, the music a tide. In “Dead,” the show takes a more sombre tone, evoking the processions of Semana Santa in Andalucía, where sorrow and reverence fill the streets. Yet even here, there is beauty—a reminder of flamenco’s deep emotional range. It’s a journey through grief and into transcendence.

The ensemble deserves its own ovation. The army of dancers wield sticks with rhythmic precision, building collective moments of catharsis. Singers May Fernández and Matías López “El Mati” are heart and soul incarnate. López, in particular, is a marvel—his voice rich with both vulnerability and razor-sharp control. His presence electrifies.

Watching this is more than witnessing a performance: it’s sharing in a devotion. There is something profoundly moving about seeing an artist not only in their element but thriving in it, discovering new possibilities within their craft. Sara Baras is that rare performer who bridges tradition and innovation with honesty and reverence.

And just when you think the final notes have rung out, she returns, again and again, with encores that feel like gifts. The final bow is not hers alone, but shared generously with her troupe, spotlighting the community behind the brilliance.

You don’t need to understand Spanish to feel this show in your bones. Flamenco, as shown here, is a universal language: visceral, raw, and deeply human. This isn’t just dance. This is art that leaves you breathless, reflective, and utterly inspired.

Direction, Script, and Choreography: Sara Baras
Music Director: Keko Baldomero
Lighting Designer: Oscar Gómez de los Reyes

 Vuela plays at Sadler’s Wells Theatre until Saturday 1 June