Review: Solera, Sadler’s Wells

I’ve been lucky enough to see flamenco live in both Spain and Cuba, but if I’m being honest, I’ve never quite taken to it. Too often, the format feels set in stone: a couple of singers sounding as if they’re in considerable emotional distress, lamenting (in a language I don’t understand) what I can only assume is unrequited love, the tragic demise of a bullfighter — or perhaps both. Meanwhile, dancers hammer the life out of a wooden floor, interpreting the anguish with thunderous footwork, while a couple of guitarists strum furiously in the background. It’s passionate, certainly, but also a little relentless.

So how did I find myself at Sadler’s Wells for an evening of flamenco? Well, my wife loves it, and as I’ve dragged her to a few things she wasn’t keen on, it’s kind of a quid pro quo.

As Solera begins, however, my expectations are promptly upended. Instead of the usual dramatic flourish, the lights dim and we hear the hum of city life. Onto the stage, in single file, stroll the nine performers in everyday clothes — handbags, backpacks, phones in hand — looking more like commuters than flamenco royalty. They appear to be riding a train, and before long we’re transported into a rehearsal studio where the dancers, singers and musicians are warming up, swapping ideas and applauding each other’s flourishes. It’s loose, intimate and quietly fascinating — a rare glimpse behind the curtain at how the art form actually takes shape.

The dancers take turns testing out solos and the results are electrifying. Angel Muñoz is a revelation: his feet hammer out classic flamenco rhythms, while his upper body seems to channel a curious, captivating blend of Fred Astaire elegance and Michael Jackson cool. Gabriel Matías offers something more sinuous and balletic, while Adriana Bilbao is pure magnetism — sensual, commanding and impossible to ignore.

The musical line-up is equally formidable. Flamenco legend Paco Peña leads alongside fellow guitar virtuosos Dani de Morón and Rafael Montilla, with Julio Alcocer supplying razor-sharp rhythms on percussion. Vocals come courtesy of the superb Immaculada Rivero and Iván Carpio, whose voices soar and rasp with thrilling intensity. Watching them experiment, tease out rhythms and build pieces together is unexpectedly mesmerising.

After the interval, the rehearsal morphs into the polished performance it has notionally been preparing us for. The dancers reappear in striking contemporary costumes — dazzling white in one number, shimmering blue-greens in another, and crisp modern tailoring in a third. The guitarists each enjoy moments to shine, the singers trade solos and duets, and Alcocer even claims a barnstorming percussion showcase. It’s flamenco, certainly — but not as I know it. The tradition remains intact, yet it’s reframed with flair, invention, and a welcome sense of theatrical play.

Solera is the result of a collaboration between Peña and his long-time creative partner Jude Kelly, who directs, and together they’ve nudged flamenco firmly into the 21st century. By exposing the craft behind the spectacle and loosening the genre’s often rigid format, they breathe fresh life into an ancient form.

Do I now love flamenco? Probably not, but if productions like Solera keep arriving at Sadler’s Wells, I’ll happily come back. And judging by the smile on my wife’s face at the curtain call, I know she will.

Director: Jude Kelly
Special Musical Collaboration: Dani de Morón
Choreography: Fernando Romero
Light Design: Tom Wickens
Sound: Lauren Serrano
Costumes: Cariola, Linda Rowell, Elvira Peña

Solera plays at Sadler’s Wells until Saturday 4 April.